All I Ever Wanted

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.


All I Ever Wanted…chap. 51 'Destiny'


The ball would linger in Draco's mind as one of the happiest moments of his life. Harry looked perfect beside him, and despite his absolute hatred of the fame that was thrust upon him, Harry coped well with the random applause that broke out whenever he and Draco did anything.

They were formally crowned King and Queen of their class, and if there were a few snickers, they were more than overshadowed by the cheers, and it was abundantly clear, even to Draco, that Hogwarts was united behind them, offering its support without question.

Even Colin Creevey's seemingly insatiable need to take pictures of everything they did could not diminish the pleasure of that evening. In fact, the only truly unhappy soul in the Great Hall that night was Theodore Nott. This came as no surprise, since his 'speech impediment' had alienated him from the rest of the class. Theo just lurked near the punchbowl, muttering to himself, avoiding attempts at conversation to preserve the tiny shred of dignity he still possessed.

Harry's only frown that evening had come from seeing Theo at the punchbowl. Draco, however, insisted on a few minutes alone in Theo's company. As soon as they were alone, Draco smiled in a way that was reminiscent of a starving leopard with rabies.

"Theo, sweetie. It's been ages...looking forward to leaving here and entering the real world?" Draco's voice dripped the kind of acid insincerity that clearly marked him as a product of the upper class. His ability to deride others with a tone that only implied casual disinterest was legendary.

"Dray." Theo nodded his head in acknowledgment. He'd been sticking to terse, sullen, monosyllabic answers for the last few months, just to cope with the bizarre curse that had afflicted him ever since he earned Draco's wrath.

Theo looked about furtively, and once he was sure that there was no one nearby, he spoke slowly and quietly.

"Please. Please take it off. We're almost…almost…damn it! Seen my cock? Take a look! You wouldn't believe how tiny it is! Like a first-year's…really!" Theo paused, panting after the outburst he couldn't halt.

"We're almost out of school, Draco. You won. I'm sorry about it. Just…just please take the curse off me. I'm beg…begging…begging for a dick that wouldn't require tweezers to hold. Damn it!" Theo waited, tense and fretful, hoping Draco would relent and temper his unique vengeance with a little mercy.

Draco looked at Theo speculatively. Being around Harry really had rubbed off on him in a lot of ways. Sometimes a little kindness was called for. Sometimes mercy was appropriate. Then he thought about waking up in a hospital bed, with his Harry half-dead beside him from Healer's Drain. Draco leaned close and whispered.

"Theo. I wish you a long life. Because I hope that everyday you draw breath will be a living hell for you. Just know that my fondest wish is for you to be lying on your death bed, waiting for the end, thinking to yourself, 'If only I hadn't fucked with Malfoy."

Draco turned on his heel and strolled away, leaving a stunned and ultimately pathetic Theo Nott in his wake. His smile was back in place by the time he caught up with Harry.

They survived the formal dance in style, since, with Draco leading, Harry managed to fumble his way through the steps without embarrassing himself for the first time. This was only important for a few minutes, since as the reigning couple, they opened the dance. After that, the rest of the class joined in, obscuring them from view.

Hermione and Ron made a fine couple at last, and Ron was finally in stylish robes (purchased by the twins, at Harry's expense and behest) for once. Even Draco was forced to eke out a few compliments.

There were moments when it made his teeth grind to hold back the sharp comments that were once his pride and joy, but, even though it galled him, he had to admit that Harry's friends were as good in their way as his own.

When the formal dance was over, the crowd began to mingle and drift, some dancing, some dining, others in small knots of conversation. Draco had received one too many compliments about his necklace, and that kind of thing went straight to his head. The fact that Seamus had liberally spiked the punch contributed to his state of giddy happiness as well.

As the night staggered on like a cheerful drunkard, Draco felt a growing restlessness that demanded attention. He flicked a few searching glances about the room, then gave a discreet wink to Harry, who had been chatting amiably with Neville Longbottom. Harry knew that look well, and excused himself with all due haste. A minute later, they were snogging savagely in the dark and curtained alcoves behind the Great Hall.

Harry was busy ravaging Draco's neck, while Draco panted his approval, all the while navigating his hands through the maze of Harry's clothing, ultimately finding and freeing his goal. His fingers worked a magic all their own, and even Harry's explicit attention to Draco's neck and throat became fuddled as he was stroked and caressed into a state of taut and quivering excitement.

Minutes later, they had rather carefully arranged their clothing to allow a certain amount of freedom, and Harry was holding Draco's entire body aloft, legs around Harry's waist, while Harry thrust quickly and fiercely into his lover's pliant body, slamming Draco's back into the alcove wall. Draco had nearly bitten through his own lip, biting back the cries that were on the tip of his tongue.

There was an intensity about them that was frightening, a power that hung in the air around them and smoldered. Neither spoke a word save whispered adoration, and they let their eyes speak for them. When, after an almost incapacitating set of orgasms, they slowed to halt, they remained joined as they were for several minutes afterwards, clinging to a moment that would stand as one of the most joyful moments of a lifetime that was sure to be full of so many more.

Ginny had quietly led Dean Thomas into the alcoves for a discreet snog, idly hoping for something a little heavier (preferably in the petting department) and had selected a suitably distant and private place to conduct this little experiment. Or so she thought.

Dean was doing well enough, and she was enjoying herself quite thoroughly, when Harry and Draco slipped into the alcove across the hall from her. They apparently failed to notice the silent couple nearby, because they made no effort to disguise their actions.

She tried to pay attention to her boyfriend's efforts, but his shoulder kept blocking her view, and, after things with the reigning couple progressed to a remarkably passionate level, she tapped Dean on the shoulder and turned his head.

They watched in silence as Harry and Draco devoured one another in silence. It was embarrassing, knowing that they were peering in on a moment so intensely private, and yet they watched without a word until the end. Only when Harry and Draco had cleaned themselves, refastened their clothes, and left, did they finally dare to break their awed silence.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything that bloody HOT in my entire life." Ginny breathed in a hushed tone of respect. She slumped against the wall behind her, trying to catch up on the air she'd been short of, for lack of breathing, the last quarter hour.

Dean Thomas shrugged calmly and shook his head in amusement. "Well, fuck me if I haven't, either!"

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Actually, now that you mention it, that's not a bad idea! Let's go." And then they were off, hand in hand, this time in search of a place where interruption was a bit less likely.

Harry and Draco returned to the ball and proceeded to converse with their classmates, all the while sharing sidelong glances and equally insouciant smirks. The clock was close to striking twelve, and while the younger years had largely gone to bed, the older students were enjoying the late hour, even with the occasional watchful staff member observing their revelry.

As the clock whiled its way to the midnight hour, Draco pulled his lover into a kiss, holding Harry as closely as he could, letting the last minute slip away in a blur of soft lips and close warmth.

The hour struck loudly, but it was another sound that drew their attention. A faint buzz was emanating from the talismans at their wrists. The talismans distributed by the Order. Around the room, more than a dozen students, and most of the staff, gazed in horror at the words that flashed across the metal surfaces of the enchanted ornaments.

Lisbon, Portugal. Paris, France. Salem, Massachusetts. Washington, D.C. Moscow, Vienna, Prague, New York, Los Angeles, London…Hogsmeade.

The attack had come, and there was nothing to be done for it, save to do what they had been trained to do. The staff was already leading children to the basement of the castle, hoping the wards would hold, and that evacuation would not be necessary. Other students simply vanished, Portkeying directly to the locations to which they had been assigned.

Harry looked at his lover with a mix of despair and resignation. He took Draco's hand, and triggered his Portkey, letting the world dissolve into a rush that swept him toward his destiny.