Draco woke up slowly and very much against his will. What had he been dreaming? Oh well, he never could remember. So long as it was pleasant, that's all that mattered.

He let his eyes slip open a little at a time, drawing the room into gradually better focus. He was curled at Harry's back, and pulled an arm out of the covers to stroke the bare brown skin there, marveling at how white his hand appeared on that background. Harry sighed and rolled his shoulder back, pulling the thick comforter away from his face without waking.

Given this opportunity, Draco propped himself up on an elbow and peeked over his fiancée's shoulder to see his sleep-slack face. Harry always managed to look so peaceful. It was easy to tell when the boy was waking—his brows would knit and he would frown slightly, and then stretch and it was done. Draco wished that they could take sleep draughts and stay in bed sleeping all day. It was always so serene. Even now, half-awake, tranquility seemed to be pulsing through him with every heartbeat.

He lie back down and fit the curve of his scull into the curve of Harry's neck. He liked being able to do this, fit their bodies together like puzzle pieces. He wanted to shove his arms around Harry's chest, but didn't want to wake the boy.

When his brain started working again through the sleep-fog, he smiled evilly. Fucking Blaise. Thinking Draco had lost his Slytherin skills! Thinking he could sneak in with all the manipulation and slyness in his arsenal and take Harry away from him! Blaise had grossly underestimated the blonde in thinking he had let his Slytherin capabilities slip. True, they weren't what they used to be, he had been out of practice for a while now, but, judging by last night, he was still very much in business. He doubted Harry would even remember being angry with Draco over the Christmas party after that lovely show of vulnerability last night. Draco had thought that Harry was going to melt on the spot when he asked, oh so shyly, to be held all night.

Draco chuckled to himself a little. No, he had most certainly not lost his knack. True, Harry wasn't that difficult to manipulate, but this was a battle over Harry, and he had proven, to himself at least, that he still had the skills to win. After all, he had years of extremely volatile history with the Gryffindor, while Harry had known Blaise for all of ten hours. As if Blaise would be able to get Harry to trust him more than Draco, break up with Draco, and then date Blaise—all in two weeks! Less that two weeks! Oh, it really was too much.

Draco was in too good a mood to lie around in bed. He was much too excited now. He sat up slowly in bed and moved onto his knees, overlooking his fiancée with hyperactive joy. Oh, and wearing Harry's pajamas really was an excellent touch; Draco had to give himself a little pat on the back for that one. If he stayed on his game like this, Blaise didn't stand a chance!

Just as Draco was about to push himself out of bed, there was a barely-audible knock on the door and his father immediately put his head through the crack.

"Oh, Draco, you are awake, perfect. Hm, Harry still asleep?" Lucius said scathingly, and a bit too loudly for Draco's tastes. Sure enough, Harry grumbled and rooted around until his head was mostly under his pillow.

"Yeah, did you need something?" Draco whispered.

"Yes, well, I have business in town, and I thought you might like to join me," said Lucius, not lowering his voice.

"Okay, I just need to get dressed. I'll meet you in the Hall?"

"Fine, fine. Make it quick."

Draco quickly slipped out of bed and out of Harry's comically large pajamas, making sure to keep quiet and not wake Harry. There was no reason for the boy to wake up this early; it was still an hour before breakfast. He left the brunette a quick a note and kissed him lightly on his neck as his head was under the pillow, and left with his father for London.

All right, Lucius, the man thought as he and his son stepped into the carriage, your turn.

And, seeing as how he was short on time, he made sure to lose none of it.

XXX

Harry awoke groggily and pulled his head out from under the suffocating goose-down pillow, stretching tall. Draco wasn't around, and he didn't hear the shower running, so he assumed that he must have grievously overslept and Draco had gone to breakfast without him. Draco was notorious for not waking him. At first Draco had made it seem that he did it on purpose to make Harry late for classes or other various meetings, but over time it had become apparent that the blonde just couldn't manage, in his heart of hearts, to force Harry into wakefulness.

Harry smiled. Cute little sweet demonic boy. Who would have thought that someone so bad could be so good?

Reaching for his glasses, Harry's hand ran over a piece of parchment.

Gone to London with Father on business. Be back eventually.

Happy Almost Christmas.

I love you,

-Draco Potter

Is that enough enticement to get you to jump my bones tonight?

PS. Stop making me say odd Muggle things.

Harry smiled and put the note away, shimmying his way out of bed and into the shower. Well, now what would he do today with no Draco to torment? Breakfast seemed like a good idea, as his stomach growled loudly. He hadn't eaten much dinner the night before, as more often than not he had no idea what had been put on his plate, or in other cases the knowing was what made it impossible to eat. Draco certainly hadn't seemed happy about that.

Oh, but he didn't want to think about that awful dinner. He was glad it was over, and didn't want to spend all morning dwelling on it. Besides, Draco had seemed adequately sorry for his actions. Sure he maybe didn't apologize in so many words, but dating Draco had taught Harry to look past words (or lack thereof), and Draco's actions last night said clearly enough that he was sorry. Well, maybe not the part when he stormed into Blaise's bedroom, but afterwards, the Please-Hold-Me-Really-Tight-I'd-Like-That part, well, it made it apparent that Draco felt badly for bossing Harry around all night.

Harry put the dull aristocratic event out of his mind and got himself dried off and dressed before going down to breakfast.

Narcissa was there in the breakfast nook, still dressed in her peach-colored silk nightgown, a creamy robe thrown over it. Her white-blonde hair was pulled back sloppily, and she was sucking jam off her thumb.

"Hello, Harry!" she said in a sing-song voice around her thumb.

"Hi, I didn't know breakfast was going to be so informal or else I would have stayed in my pajamas, too." Harry laughed.

"Well, with no husband around to look proper in front of, I decided not to bother. After all, you're not going to tattle on me, are you?"

"My lips are sealed." Harry swore, zipping his mouth closed. Narcissa smiled and went back to her toast.

"What are you up to today with no boyfriend around to entertain you?"

"I was wondering the same thing. I…do have some last-minute shopping I could get out of the way…"

"Diagon Alley?"

"Yes. Want to join me?"

"Hm, and get dressed? Well, I guess I might as well. So, what did you get Draco for Christmas?"

"Um, some potions stuff. He's really hard to shop for, you know that, don't you?"

"Ah, what can you get someone who has everything? It can be very difficult. I have the same trouble with Lucius—he's hardly interested in anything as it is, and since he runs the finances, he can buy himself anything he really wants."

"So what did you get him?"

"Lingerie."

Harry's orange juice sprayed the table, and Narcissa cleared it away without looking up from her latté. She did deign to pat Harry's back as he coughed and sputtered.

"I—I so didn't need to hear that!" he choked, eyes watering as acidic orange juice scorched the linings of his lungs.

"Well, married couples sometimes need a little pick-me-up in the bedroom. I used to use Pepper-Up potion, but I think this will work just as well. Tell me the truth, Harry, I'm attractive, aren't I?"

"Er."

"Generally speaking, come on, you can tell me. I can take it." Narcissa said dangerously, and Harry thought it better to answer the woman than lose all his limbs.

"Well, um, ignoring the fact that you're my boyfriend's mother, and twenty years my senior, yes, you are very attractive—in a non-creepy way."

"Of course. All right then," Narcissa said, calming down. "Well, I'll go get dressed, and we can Apparate to Diagon Alley. Meet me in the Entrance Hall?"

XXX

"You…you want to know about me and Harry?" Draco asked, accidentally gulping down an ice cube with his water.

"Of course I want to know about you and Harry! You two little lovebirds, and don't pretend like you don't want to tell me. When I met your mother I talked the ear off anybody who would listen!"

Draco blushed sheepishly. "It would be nice to have someone to gush to. No one in Slytherin wants to hear a word about it. But don't you mind? You always said that Malfoys Don't Gush."

"Malfoys Don't Gush to Strangers, dear boy! Now, I'm no stranger, am I? Eventually you'll have to gush to someone or explode, and what good are you to the family if you're in bits? No, no, I think it much better that you gush."

"Well…what exactly am I allowed to gush about? I mean, what are my limitations here?" Draco asked smartly. With his father, it was always better to ask.

"Anything, absolutely anything at all! I'll get you started—what annoys you about Harry?"

"What? Annoys me?"

"Yes! Surely there's something." Lucius focused on his lobster bisque in order to insure that Draco didn't see the maniacal glint in his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Normal stuff, I guess. The same stuff that used to annoy me. But it's Christmas Eve, I don't want to talk about how he annoys me."

Lucius's hand nearly bent his spoon double with frustration.

"All right, all right—it was only a suggestion! What do you want to talk about? How much you love him I suppose?"

"You said I could gush about anything!" Draco growled.

"And you can, you can, of course you can, go on, why do you love him?" Lucius backpedaled immediately. No reason to antagonize the boy, he didn't want to be found out, better to go about it through the backdoor, no reason to be so blatant about it.

Draco blushed hotly.

"I don't want to aggravate you. I know you don't like mushy stuff like this," he murmured.

"Nothing of the sort! If you can't talk about these sorts of things with your own dear father, then I seriously doubt your level of adoration for this Potter boy! I was nearly insane with gabbiness over your mother."

Draco had a hard time imagining his father in this way, but could not turn down this challenge.

"He absolutely adores me—how could I not love him?"

"Easy! Severus adores me, but you don't see us sharing beds." Lucius waved off Draco's immediate cringe at the thought.

"That's different. That's gross."

"Yeah, well, as your father I can tell you that the same goes for you and that boy."

"Is not. We're both completely gorgeous. Not like Slimey Snape."

"Ha. We used to call him Snivellus."

"You and he…never…did you?"

"EUGH! Of COURSE not! Do you see left-over grease marks on me, for Merlin's sake, how could you ASK such a thing?! YUCK!" restaurant patrons all around jumped in their seats and spilled expensive wine.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry! God, and Harry says I'm dramatic!" Draco hissed.

"He calls you names?" Lucius snarled, jerking up in his chair.

"Oh, please, Father." Draco groaned.

"What does he call you?"

Draco was growing annoyed with his father by now, and he thought he knew the best way to get back at him: give him what he wanted.

"No repercussions? I tell you what you want to know and it stays at this table when we leave—you better act the part of a man Obliviated or I'll turn you into a man Obliviated." Lucius got chills hearing this from his son—sometimes the boy was so much like his mother!

"Deal. Now, what does he call you?"

"I don't know. Lots of stuff. Princess mostly." Lucius choked on his own spit, and had the overwhelming idea that some things are better left unknown. "Sunshine, pretty-boy, sex-machine, but that's fairly recent. Sweet-thing, honey, dear (but only when he's miffed), Master Malfoy (but only when I'm one comment away from getting hexed). Sn—"

"I'm not talking about pet-names, Draco. What mean things does he call you?"

"Mean things? I'm not sure. Sometimes he calls me bitchy. But I am very bitchy sometimes. Catty, spoilt, impatient, dramatic, Prima Donna, evil, forged out of the fires of Hell."

"Does Potter ever…hurt you, Draco?"

"Only when I want him to," he replied easily. Oh, this really was too much fun. He wondered if he could make his father's face go more reddish-purple than this.

"Eugh! Enough! Enough! I give up! Please, no more!"

"You asked."

"Yes, yes, I did. And I'm sorry! Ugh—what sort of perversion have I spawned?"

"Oh, please, Father. It's only spanking. It's very mild compared to some couples. Did you know that Pansy Parkinson let that boy Montague tie her up and take pictures? It was all over school for a while, until Mr. Parkinson hexed Montague to hell and back. It was quite a show."

"You two don't do anything like that do you?" Although I wouldn't mind hexing Potter to hell and back…

"No, unfortunately. Harry's afraid of it ending up like the Parkinson Fiasco. Ruining it for everyone, that whore."

"But…why on earth would you want to be spanked?" Lucius hissed in a barely audible whisper. "Your mother and I never struck you!"

"I know that. I'm not sure why I like it. There's just something about Harry when he's angry—and he has to be angry, he won't do it unless I've done something really horrible and require due punishment. It does make things difficult, that—I had to hex Ron straight to the face, and he's was evil to me for weeks for it."

"He punishes you?" Lucius had just regained his voice from the shock—his entire parenting scheme had been based on not punishing Draco, and here came a young upstart actually hitting his son!

"Well, now. The first time I wouldn't really call punishment. Maybe torture? Enticement? I'm not sure."

"Torture?" Lucius was having an aneurism. He was sure of it.

"He wanted me to say please." Draco sniggered, smiling happily at the memory. "He thought a good spanking was an excellent way to teach me manners. I think it did work in the end, though, so maybe he knows what he's doing."

"Gah…ah!" was all Lucius could say, and Draco smiled smugly at him across the table.

"There, have you had enough? Now stop asking me silly questions. Your father wouldn't have asked all this—he knew there are some things better left unknown. I don't want to know the particulars of your and mom's sordid sex lives, and you shouldn't want to know mine, either. I'm seventeen, and I officially have a sex life—I know I used to tell you everything, but, as I think I've just proven, neither of us want that sort of openness to continue into the realm of sex."

"Yes, yes, you're right. Quite right," Lucius said weakly, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. "So…none of that was true, right? You were just proving your point, right? Draco?"

"Here, Father, you're out of tea. Let me refill that for you."

XXX

"Oh, Harry, I'm just going to run in and see if they have that black ensemble on the mannequin in green." Harry looked where Narcissa was pointing, dragging her arm and all the bags attached to it heavily into the air—a wizarding lingerie store.

"Um, I'll meet you in the café?" Harry said, blushing deeply.

"Yes, yes, perfect. I'll just be a minute."

Harry parted from the woman, and was about to make his way into the café nearby when he suddenly caught sight of the store across the lane and had a marvelous idea.

XXXXXXXXX

A/N: That's all this time! I'm pretty miserable now that I have to wake up early again, but I will not let my work reflect my mood! But there is something you can do to help the situation, ladies and gentlemen (I'm guessing mostly ladies)—review! It only takes a moment, but it brightens up the pre-solar hours of my day, which I now have to be awake for. Suggestions? Things you cannot let this story end without seeing/reading? Then friggen tell me! I'm not a mind-reader! Sheesh.

Um, sorry for that outburst. Like I said. Miserable.

Review!

(please)