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. 49 'When The Wolf Is At The Door'


The meeting of the Order slowly wound its way to an end, with a still stunned Draco dazedly half listening to the buzz of conversation around him. It was not unheard of, in Hogwarts' long history, for students to fill in for absent staff. It was, however, exceedingly rare, and a very high honor indeed.

At least he was already familiar with Severus' curriculum. He could just step into the role of instructor, assign the expected material for each year's examinations, then sit back and grade the results. It would be more work than actually taking his own NEWT level examinations, but with the added pleasure of being the only student in recent memory to be honored so.

Draco's reverie was interrupted by the word Slytherin being spoken next to him. When he looked up, Harry was talking to a tired and harried looking Professor McGonagall, and the meeting chamber was empty save for Harry, Draco and Minerva. The topic, once he started paying attention, revealed itself to be the defection of Draco's seventh-year friends.

Harry turned to Draco, "I believe them. Honestly, Headmistress, I think they want safe haven, if there isn't an attack before graduation. Maybe we couldn't induct them into the Order proper, but there has to be a middle ground. We could bring them under the Fidelius and hide them at Grimmauld Place if we had to, right? Or maybe even here at Hogwarts?"

"Harry, this is a bit much to ask. There are questions of security, and they're families have been clearly identified as Death Eaters. There are ways around Veritaserum, albeit few, and short of an Unbreakable Vow, which I do not believe in administering to students, I cannot risk the Order's safety for a handful of students with questionable motives."

Draco cut in, his tone of voice carefully flat. "We're aware that they're Slytherin students, purebloods, and the children of Death Eaters. If you think we'd even ask without giving due consideration to those things, you probably shouldn't trust us with first-year spells, because we'd have to be almost mentally incompetent not to think of them. What Harry is saying, and what I am telling you now, is that Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle are for real. We want to protect them, wherever it is necessary to place them, even if it means Veritaserum and an Oath of Loyalty for each of them.

Frankly, we need all the help we can get. I say bring them into Dumbledore's Army. That's a fair middle ground that won't completely compromise security, but will give them a chance to prove themselves. Someday the war will be over, and when it is, it would be nice if the Order was remembered as a unifying force for peace and good, not just the side that happened to win."

"He's absolutely right, Headmistress," Harry added. "This entire war and every life lost from it started with blind hate between two sides. It has to stop somewhere, and killing Voldemort is just part of it. If we can't even offer a hand in friendship to four fellow students who are scared of being enslaved and forced to kill, what the hell are we even fighting for?"

Minerva McGonagall stood in silence, still surprised by the sense of determination and passion she felt from Harry and Draco. In the massive undertaking she had been laboring daily to command, it was easy to forget the greatest purpose of all...peace and harmony amongst all wizarding kind. It was disconcerting, to say the least, that it took a pair of boys scarcely out of adolescence to remind her of this.

Minerva sighed, but a tense smile softened her careworn face. "Very well. I stand persuaded. I will summon your friends to my office over the next few days and, with a witness present, induct them into Dumbledore's Army after suitable Oaths and Veritaserum testing have been administered. There is plenty of work to go around, now that the Aurors are no longer at our disposal. Which reminds me, you may both be interested to know that Nymphadora Tonks is resigning from the Auror service to join the Hogsmeade guardians. I have placed no pressure on the Aurors in our ranks to do such a thing, but apparently she cannot accept abandoning the most likely target on the near brink of war. Auror Shacklebolt will be continuing as our liaison with the Ministry. Hopefully, he will be able to direct a few resources our way, despite Scrimgeour's interference."

"Thank Merlin," Draco drawled with relief, "at least some of the Aurors have a priority higher than kissing Scrimgeour's arse!"

Minerva frowned, "Mr. Malfoy! Such a statement ill befits even a temporary instructor. I expect better from you than that. The fact that I quite agree with the sentiment is entirely beside the point. Gentlemen, I believe we all need some rest. A good night to you. I shall you again tomorrow, Draco. You'll report to me first thing in the morning. We'll discuss Professor Snape's class schedule and curriculum then."

With that said, Minerva McGonagall left Harry and Draco standing in the cavernous meeting chamber alone, both still reeling from the ever rising demands on their minds and their time.

Harry curled his arms around Draco and hugged him tightly, then broke away for a kiss. "Congratulations, love. You were incredible tonight. You know that, right? Especially when you stopped Hermione from panicking!"

Draco's cheeks pinked a little at the memory. He was fairly proud of that moment. It wasn't often that Hermione Granger listened to anyone other than herself, and Draco had been well aware that it was quite a feat to accomplish for anyone, much less a Slytherin who had once been a sneering rival to her.

"I meant every word of it. The situation is still bad, but it isn't anything that jumping at shadows will solve. If we second guess every little thing we do, we'll be too busy quibbling over minutia to fight back when the time comes."

Harry chuckled softly. "You sounded like a Gryffindor there. I wonder if I've been rubbing off on you?"

"HEY! Don't tell me I have to explain to my lover what I've been trying to teach the rest of Slytherin! Cunning does not mean cowardice. It means choosing the best time and the best place for action. If that means thinking carefully before acting, fine. But at some point you have to act, and worrying isn't going to fix anything. And as for 'rubbing off' on me," Draco leaned up for a kiss, and ground himself against Harry slowly, savoring the almost instant bulge that formed in Harry's robes, "Well, let's just say that maybe there is a little bit of Gryffindor in me, and, if you don't say anything annoying in the next ten minutes, I'd like some more Gryffindor in me tonight!"

It was not surprising to discover that two people, under an Invisibility Cloak, who are both trying to achieve a proper sprint, will experience some difficulty. The hallways of Hogwarts were filled with enough disembodied laughter that several ghosts assumed that a new poltergeist had arrived. Somewhat later that night, two fairly sweaty and extremely sleepy young men curled tightly against each other as slumber overtook them.

The next day brought with it a flurry of activity. Draco had a chance to review Professor Snape's schedule and curriculum with Headmistress McGonagall, and the reality of what he had accepted became clear to him. Hogwarts was home to nearly three hundred students, the majority of whom pursued their Potions classes at least until fifth year OWLS. This meant that Draco would be administering and grading slightly less than two hundred exams in the next week. No wonder Snape always seemed crankier than normal near the end of the year!

For his part, Harry spent his Sunday off in the dungeons with Ron and Hermione. It was a fine thing to fuel his own spells with magic drawn from the air around him, but targeting minor hexes that were in flight was a far more difficult prospect.

Thankfully, Hermione knew the counter spells for every jinx, curse and hex she or Ron cast. By the time they called it quits, Harry was sore from head to toe, since even with counter spells, Trip Jinxes and other spells had sent him tumbling across the stone floor several dozen times.

At least toward the end, Harry had managed to siphon off some of the strength of Hermione's and Ron's spells, but he was exhausted none the less. He trudged his way back to the suite with feet that dragged on every step.

Draco's eyes never left the mound of scrolls in front of him. Without so much as looking up, Draco smiled and asked, "How did it go, love?"

"A lot like hell, but without all the fun torture and warm fire. I hurt everywhere, plus a few places I didn't know I had until they got bruised. I got the theory down, but absorbing spells before they hit is bloody hard!"

Draco broke away from the pile of paperwork as Harry collapsed with a huff onto their bed. He pulled a bottle of oil from the nightstand and stood in front of Harry's prone body.

"Get your shirt off, love."

"Can I take a rain check on that, love? I'm really sore right now and Remus is supposed to be here in a little over an hour. Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but..."

"It's MASSAGE oil, you big prat! Take your shirt off and leave your gutter of a mind on the desk. I haven't got a lot of time, but you'd better believe I mean to make you feel better before supper. If you knew how much paperwork Snape has for his exams you'd understand why he gets so snarky with students that don't keep up.

Besides, we have things to do after supper, too. Our outfits arrived today. We need to try them on and make sure they fit. Not that I don't trust Malkin's, but there isn't much time left for adjustments. It's better to make sure now."

"OH! Well, damn. Okay, but I get my gutter of a mind back when you're done." Harry groaned as he peeled away his shirt, revealing the bruises he'd collected during hours of non-stop practice. He peeled away his slacks as well, then flopped, as if boneless, onto the mattress.

Draco clambered atop his boyfriend, seating himself comfortably on Harry's arse, and poured the enchanted oil into the cup of his palm. He placed the bottle atop the nightstand, and rubbing his hands together, spread the oil evenly onto both hands.

He started low on Harry's back, carefully working the oil in first, letting its magic kick in before pushing harder. Harry let go a slow sigh of relief as the magic numbed the aching pains along his back and shoulders, giving himself over completely to the pair of talented hands that eased away his tension.

Draco noticed the pale splendor of his manicured hands against the modest darkness of Harry's tanned back. What opposites they were, in so many ways. Light and darkness, and so ironic that the fairer of the two had been so full of darkness. Then, like a blazing sun, Harry had dispelled every shadow buried in his heart. Draco mused on while his fingers worked a magic of their own across Harry's bruised back.

Harry sank into a peaceful torpor, only occasionally moaning in contentment while his lover labored over his every ache and soreness. The enchanted oil melted into every fiber of his being, numbing the small hurts that he had earned himself by practicing so feverishly hard. He murmured, "I love you so much. How can I ever tell you how much, Draco?"

"Take the rest of your life, love. I'm sure you'll find a way eventually. Just...don't worry about it now. You've proven everything I could ever have doubted already. Now hush, before I'm done, you'll feel better than when you got up this morning."

Eventually, Draco's ability to resist the lure of the tawny body beneath him crumbled. The hands that had soothed away pain began to move in subtler, more sensual ways. When Harry felt the heat of breath on the nape of his neck, a low and guttural moan escaped his lips, this time caused by burgeoning desire. Soft kisses began to rain across his back, one after another, followed by tiny, delightful bites that teased and enticed.

Draco peeled away his shirt and snuggled close and tight across his lover's back. The sensation of his own skin against Harry's warm and lightly oiled back was incomparable. Harry turned his head ever so slightly, making small noises of lazy contentment. Then Draco felt the hips beneath his move, and with a lusty chuckle, Harry began to grind himself against the sheets, incidentally rubbing his still-clad arse against Draco's now-tensed groin.

They said nothing; a wordless agreement passing between them, propelling them toward satisfaction. Draco was almost surprised by the way something as simple as rubbing against Harry excited him. Although this was by far not the most advanced act that had passed between them, it was oddly just as pleasing.

What was a bit odd for Draco was the simulated act of him topping. Equally odd was the degree to which he enjoyed it! Still, it was Harry. What more needed to be said? There could be nothing more arousing to him than that.

In minutes, their skin was laced with a fine sheen of sweat, and their movements became jerky, erratic, and punctuated by soft gasps and short, sharp breaths. Despite the host of other activities that might have drawn their interest, they were utterly lost in each other, bodies afire with a need so immediate that the mere notion of stopping was left entirely unconsidered.

Draco felt a tightening in his groin, as well as a pulsing in his erection that presaged the orgasm that was so close. He could only whisper Harry's name with a fevered urgency while his face contorted with the rush of pleasure.

His swollen cock was pressed against the warm cleft of Harry's arse, and even through their trousers the sensation was sublime. Draco rutted against his lover's warmth, panting, allowing small grunts to escape him, and pausing to kiss or nip the back of Harry's neck.

Harry felt the changing motions upon him, his heart leapt when Draco whispered his name to him, so worshipfully, so wildly alive with hunger that it sounded like a prayer. He let himself go, and let the burning need to come take him over completely.

With a moan that trailed into a whimper, Harry shamelessly came into his pants as he ground himself between Draco and their sheets. With each pulse and twitch beneath him, another heavy spurt of his seed soaked his clothing. The joy of release was too much to allow Harry to care.

When the last shaky spasms of their respective orgasms had passed, Draco turned Harry onto his back and, straddling Harry's waist and leaning close, kissed him in a way that demanded more than simple frottage.

"I am soooo going to..." Draco's lust drenched voice was interrupted by polite knocking at their door.

"FUCK!" This time they shouted in perfect stereo, as they scrambled for their wands and shirts.

"Just a minute! Not quite ready in here!" Harry shouted to the door while he fumbled with his buttons and tie.

Draco fired off a pair of high speed Cleaning Charms at each of their soiled crotches, which was the only time common curses weren't leaving his mouth. "Gods damn it! I knew I should have just started by ripping your fucking pants off and jumping on your dick! This is what I get for not listening to my own better judgment. No, be nice, don't demand sex from the tired boyfriend...give him a nice massage instead!"

Harry Levitated the piles of paperwork off of the table and onto Draco's study desk. Then went back to straightening his clothes and running his hands through his badly mussed hair. "How do I look?"

Draco paused and stared. "Gorgeous, but in a cute, I-just-came-in-my-pants-because-my-boyfriend-is-a-sexy-bastard kind of way. Good enough?"

Harry broke into giggles for a few seconds. "It'll have to be!"

Putting on his best poker face and smoothing his shirt, Harry moved to the door and opened it with a smile. Remus Lupin stood in the hall, and smiled when he saw Harry.

"Harry, am I interrupting anything? Should I just come back in a bit? It's no worry, really."

"No, no, not at all! Just cleaning up the place before the house-elves bring supper!"

The former professor looked at Harry and frowned slightly. "Tsk-tsk. Look at you! Bad form, Harry. Have you been out all day looking like that? Your collar is crooked, your tie is almost sideways, and your buttons are out of order in two different places. I trust you dress yourself a bit better than this when class is in session?"

Harry was hemming and hawing his way through a suitable excuse, when Draco interrupted, smirking wickedly and chuckling.

"We're busted, Harry. He was on to us the minute the door opened. He's just enjoying making you squirm!" Draco watched the werewolf break into laughter almost immediately.

"It was the clothes, wasn't it? Dead giveaway," Harry asked as soon as Remus regained his composure.

"Well, not quite. To be honest, you two give off enough pheromones to drench the sixth floor with the scent of sex. A lifetime as a werewolf doesn't have many perks, but an enhanced sense of smell is one of them. I was still on the staircase up when I picked up traces of what was going on."

Draco joined Harry in a mutual race to see who turned crimson with embarrassment first.

"Oh, come on, lads. You're almost grown. You do realize that I went to Hogwarts once upon a time? Do you really think no one in my day had sex? I just happened to be the only one in my class who could recognize it by scent alone. Let me tell you, the dorms are a lot tougher to live in with a wolf's nose and palate. Every time Sirius took off his socks I nearly choked!"

It was Draco who recovered first. "Welcome to our humble abode then. I sent instructions to the house-elves earlier. We should be ready to dine very shortly. Please, have a seat at the table, it would be a pleasure to just chat a bit before we break bread."

Harry only managed a few strangled and apologetic sounding noises on the way to the table. This was quickly shaping up to be the longest dinner of his life.