This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note:For Selly on her birthday (a little early because I know you hate to wait for prezzies!) … everything a girl could want: Harry, Draco and Edward …


November 2005

"I said I didn't care, Draco," Harry snapped, clenching his jaw to prevent himself from saying something else that would likely only get him in more trouble. He actually did care quite a lot, but he couldn't see how admitting that would make this any better.

When the silence had dragged on for several minutes, Harry forced himself to turn around, scanning the room for Draco. He expected to see the blond pouting on the bed or rummaging through his enormous closet, but the room seemed to be empty. A feeling of foreboding swept through Harry as he set out to track his errant husband down – a daunting task in a place as big as Malfoy Manor. Especially in a place like Malfoy Manor, actually, since the very building seemed to have it in for him, just like Draco's parents.

"Draco," he called as he hurried down the darkened corridor, his bare feet making slapping noises against the cold marble as he broke into a run. The idiot had about a five minute head start, which meant he could be practically anywhere, Harry thought uncharitably. "Draco!"

Harry briefly considered calling for a house-elf, but he tossed the thought aside. The house-elves were nearly as hostile as the Manor, which made sense, he supposed, since they were tied to serve it. He and Draco had been married for almost a year, but the Malfoys and their sinister home still hadn't warmed to him. It was just as well that he rarely ran into Lucius or Narcissa in the corridors of the Manor; he and Draco stuck to their wing and the elder Malfoys kept to theirs. Most of the time, at least. Not that it stopped them from simply barging into any room in the house they liked when they were searching for Draco, though Harry did have to concede that it was their right, since the Manor was theirs.

Harry steeled himself, making sure he had his wand before he crossed the threshold into the circular antechamber that connected the four wings of the Manor. Last time he ventured into the "family wing", as Lucius and Narcissa still insisted on calling it, one of the suits of armor had come alive and manacled him to the wall. He'd stayed there for two solid hours until Draco finally found him. It was not a mistake he was eager to repeat, but they were due at the Burrow for dinner later that evening and he needed to patch things up with the blond beforehand or risk all hell breaking loose with the Weasleys if he didn't show up with him. Harry grimaced, shoving his hair out of his eyes so he could see better in the gloom. The Manor was semi-sentient, just like Hogwarts, usually doing things like lighting torches and opening doors for guests on its own. He rolled his eyes, raising his wand to incant the charms that would light the space for him, since the Manor wasn't inclined to help.

"This entire family is nutters," he growled as he eyed several glaring portraits suspiciously. He'd never heard of portraits being able to harm the living, but if it could happen anywhere it would definitely be Malfoy Manor.

He'd wanted to live elsewhere – anywhere else, actually. But Draco was bound by familial magic to stay at the Manor as the heir to the Malfoy name, so living on their own had proven to be impossible. They'd tried several times, hopeful that since Draco had spent seven years away at school the Manor would allow him to live separate from it until his parents were no longer in residence and he took up the title of Lord Malfoy. No matter where they went, though, the same thing always happened; by the third night in their new home, Draco would begin Disapparating against his will, finding himself back at Malfoy Manor due to ancient magic that not even Hermione could unravel.

"So help me, Draco, if you're in the library again –"

Harry's dark mutterings broke off with a curse when he realized he was no longer alone in the corridor. Tibby, the only Manor house-elf at all loyal to him – and even then only marginally – stood in front of him, wringing his wizened hands.

"Master Harry, you be looking for Master Draco, sir?" the elf asked, looking as though it had grave distaste for its mission.

"I am," Harry bit out, barely restraining himself from yelling at the small house-elf. It wouldn't do to alienate him, too – he was the only non-hostile being at the Manor aside from Draco, and even he couldn't be counted on to always take Harry's side. Like at the moment, for example.

"Yes, Tibby," Harry said, gentling his voice. "Do you know where Draco is?"

Tibby nodded, hesitating before crooking a finger at Harry and setting off down the corridor in the direction Harry had come from. The dark-haired man sighed and whirled around, following the small creature back through the maze of corridors and darkened corners. Harry was happy to note that fewer things threatened him while he had Tibby as a guide.

"Master Harry is being a bad man," Tibby said suddenly, stopping before a set of double doors Harry didn't remember ever seeing before. He had to have walked right by them earlier, but he could have sworn the doors had been a rather large portrait of a dour woman playing the harpsichord on his first pass.

"A bad man?" Harry questioned, blinking as the house-elf's words registered. The elves had certainly made their displeasure at his presence known along with the rest of the Manor, though Tibby had never spoken ill of him before.

"You is making Master Draco be needing his piano," the elf said sternly, cocking his overly large ears toward the doorway. Harry followed suit, surprised when he heard a faint strain of an unfamiliar melody. "Master Draco only needs his piano in bad times. You is making Master Draco need it."

Faced with Tibby's unassailable house-elf logic, Harry had to concede that perhaps he was a bad man in this instance. He followed wordlessly when the elf opened the doors. Draco was seated at the piano bench, his back to the door when Tibby pushed Harry inside what was apparently the Manor's music room. Harry hadn't even known Draco played, but his husband was indeed the cause of the haunting melody he'd heard outside. It wasn't familiar, but something about it made his heart ache.

"My version of Bella's Lullaby," Draco said, not bothering to look over his shoulder or stop playing the soft notes. The explanation meant nothing to Harry, but he recognized the name Bella from the one-sided discussions they'd had about a book. At least, he hoped that was it – otherwise Draco was playing something written his Death Eater aunt, and that seemed unlikely.

Harry turned to thank Tibby, but the elf had already left, closing the heavy doors behind himself. Draco continued to play, and Harry, at a loss for what to do, slid onto the bench beside him.

"I didn't know you played," Harry said, his soft voice slightly accusatory. From what he could hear, Draco played quite well. Harry couldn't believe he didn't know something this big about his husband.

Draco laughed humorlessly, his fingers never faltering as the music continued.

"Lessons since I was four," he said, finishing the tune with a dramatic flourish. "I don't play often. Only when –"

"Only when you're upset about something," Harry offered, shrugging when Draco turned his head and narrowed his eyes. "Tibby."

Draco hummed in acknowledgement, absently playing a few bars of a different song while he thought.

"I wondered how you'd found me," he said at last, letting his fingers fall from the keys. He shifted on the narrow bench so their shoulders were touching.

"This isn't like you, Draco," Harry said, concern tinting his voice. "When you're upset you let me know. You yell, you hex – Merlin, remember that time I accidently knocked your cufflinks down the drain and you cursed me with blue body hair for a week?"

Draco laughed, leaning heavily against Harry.

"You deserved that. I actually wanted to curse you with blue balls, but I was angry and the spell was too literal."

Harry snorted, shaking his head.

"I retrieved them with a simple Accio, Draco. They were hardly lost forever."

"They were Cartier, Harry, Cartier! And they came back all coated with drain muck," Draco said with a grimace, making Harry hasten to change the subject before the blond decided to repeat the punishment the correct way this time.

"At any rate, it all worked out," he said, scooting closer until their bodies were touching shoulder to thigh. "This will, too. I don't pretend to understand, Draco, but I'm not upset. You shouldn't be, either."

Draco sighed, nestling his head against the curve of Harry's neck.

"I just can't believe I did it," he said quietly. "Honestly, calling out someone else's name during sex? How can you not be livid, Harry? Frankly I'm angry that you're not more upset."

Harry groaned as they slipped back into the argument they'd been having in the bedroom. He had no idea how to make himself understood. This was a minor thing. They'd made it through real infidelity a few years back when Draco had gotten caught up in drunken tryst at a party before they were married, but that was water under the bridge. True they'd gone through a rough patch, but Harry had forgiven him. And, while it did tweak his self-confidence a bit, this was hardly the same thing.

"He's a fictional character, Draco," Harry said, trying to keep his tone even. "If you want to pretend –"

"I don't want to pretend I'm having sex with Edward Cullen, Harry!" Draco shouted, pushing away from Harry and standing, the piano keys protesting with a brash cacophony of sound as his hip brushed them.

Harry shut his eyes, trying to draw calm from somewhere inside himself. Ron had learned the technique in an anger management class, and it seemed to work well enough in instances like these.

"I want to have sex with you, you dolt!" Harry's eyes snapped open, their green depths confused.

"I just want you to be a little bit more like Edward," Draco added so softly that Harry had to strain to hear him. "He's elegant and refined. Everything he does is infused with charm and sophistication."

Harry bit his cheek, surprised to feel his eyes prick with unexpected tears of hurt and anger. It sounded like this Edward Cullen was everything Draco and his parents had envisioned for a Malfoy spouse – everything Harry was not.

"That isn't what I meant to say," Draco said, his eyes sweeping over Harry's pinched expression. "Edward doesn't exist, obviously, but if he did, he would be you personified. You're gorgeous, he's gorgeous. You're modest, he's modest. But then it gets exaggerated – you're both sweet, but he's more charming. You're both intelligent but he's wittier and more sarcastic."

"Sounds lovely," Harry said wryly, shaking his head. "If only he weren't a fictional character he'd be perfect."

Draco growled in frustration, stalking to the other side of the room to a bank of windows that Harry hadn't noticed when he'd arrived. It was twilight, and Draco's pale skin glowed against the darkening backdrop, making him seem ethereal, like the vampire they were discussing. At least, Harry thought the character was a vampire. He honestly hadn't been paying that much attention to Draco's musings on the book.

"I just wish you were a little more like that," Draco said, his back turned to Harry so he could stare out the windows. He could see the room's reflection in the panes of glass as the sky darkened outside. "More romantic, more impulsive. A little wilder, I guess. I got caught up in my imagination, and I suppose I fell a little bit in love with Edward. There are to be more books in the series – perhaps I should stay away from them."

Harry chuckled, meeting Draco's eyes in the reflection. Now that he understood the problem he was sure he could fix it. More impulsive? Not a problem. More romantic? He had to admit he'd let that slip a bit, but that was easy to remedy as well.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," he murmured in Draco's ear, his pulse jumping as he saw Draco's eyes widen in the glass. "You are exactly my type of alcohol."

"It's 'my brand of heroin', actually, but I suppose I should be glad you listened even that closely," Draco said with a laugh, turning to face Harry. "I love you, too. I'm sorry I've been such a prat. The romance in the book, it's intoxicating. I got carried away."

Harry silenced him with a sweet kiss, the soft touch of his lips telling Draco more than words could have. The blond sank into his embrace when Harry's arms circled around him, pulling him even closer as the kiss deepened.

"I want you right here," Harry whispered, grinning when he felt Draco tense in surprise and arousal. They never had sex anywhere but their bed chambers, even in their own wing of the house. Harry was usually too uptight to get into the mood anywhere else in the Manor, despite Draco's frequent attempts to lure him into it when they'd first moved there.

"Here?" Draco asked, studying Harry's face carefully.

"Impulsive, remember?" Harry teased, dipping his head to lick a thin trail down Draco's neck. "Romantic."

Draco laughed, feeling touched despite himself. He grabbed at the hem of his jumper, eager to take advantage of this more-pliant Harry while it lasted.

"Let me," Harry said, raising his wand. Draco shivered as the spell whispered over him, divesting him of clothes and leaving him completely naked. Harry repeated the spell on himself, dropping to his knees in front of Draco's throbbing erection.

He licked his way from tip to root, his tongue mimicking the pattern he'd drawn on Draco's neck earlier. The blond couldn't hold back his moan at the teasing sensation, his hips canting forward seeking more of the delicious wet heat. Harry obliged, stretching his lips around Draco's width and swallowing as much of his cock as he could.

He felt Draco's fingers twine through his hair, a sure sign he was close. Harry was just about to move to suckle at his balls when the silence of the music room was shattered by the door opening.

"– heard him play in so long. I can't imagine why he stopped –"

Draco's fingers tightened painfully in his hair, confirming that Harry wasn't having some sort of auditory hallucination – Narcissa had just opened the doors to the music room. And from the sound of the shocked diatribe that followed, so had Lucius.

"– disgraceful and depraved –" Harry was thankful he'd been spared having to look at them, but he could still hear most of Lucius' nearly apoplectic rant. "– no sense of decorum –"

He was shocked into action when he felt a leathery hand against his back, finally rearing backward enough to let Draco's now-softening cock fall from his mouth. Tibby stood there, his eyes wide with panic.

"Tibby tried to be telling Master and Mistress not to enter," the elf said frantically, his voice rising to be heard over the increasing volume of Lucius' now nearly incoherent tirade. "Tibby is sorry, Masters, Tibby is sorry!"

Draco blinked, finally seeming to realize that both he and Harry were naked. Before he could level his wand, however, they were surrounded by a bubble of magic. Seconds later they found themselves in their own bedroom with only Tibby as company.

"Tibby is sorry!" the elf squeaked, disappearing with a pop.

Harry had never been so mortified in his life. It actually felt like physical pain. He stared at the empty space Tibby had been in for a moment before managing a startled laugh.

"He Apparated us."

Draco nodded, obviously as surprised by Tibby's actions as Harry was. When the enormity of what his parents had seen returned to him, he squeezed his eyes shut, his pale skin flushed with arousal and embarrassment that seemed to be tempered with amusement, if the way he was laughing was any indication.

"Merlin, they –"

Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. If Draco wasn't humiliated, he shouldn't be. After all, he could hardly have fallen any in the Malfoy's estimation; they already hated him.

"Something good did come of all this, you know," he said, grinning at Draco.

"Your parents. I don't think they'll ever enter a room without knocking again," Harry smirked, his cheeks still reddened from the fiasco. Still, it would be worth the humiliation if it meant more privacy. Impromptu sex with Draco had turned out to be quite a lot of fun, even if the cost had been his pride. And he had a feeling he'd be up for a lot more of it now that their bedroom was no longer the only place in the Manor safe from unexpected intrusion.

"Well, there is that," Draco agreed, a sly smile curving his lips. "And they definitely won't come looking for us anytime soon."

Harry raised his eyebrows suggestively, pushing Draco back toward the bed. Screw dinner at the Weasley's – this was much more important.

"Define 'soon'."

"Anytime today, I'd say," Draco purred, his flagging erection surging back to life as Harry pressed his own naked flesh against him. "Maybe even the rest of the week."

"We should take advantage," Harry said, Summoning his wand from the spot it had fallen to on the floor after their unexpected Apparition. He cast a quick Lubrication Spell on himself, shivering as the cool sensation coated his channel and made his entrance tingle.

"We should," Draco agreed, his grey eyes sparkling.

"You've had quite a shock," Harry said, pushing Draco flat on his back on the mattress. "You should lie down."

"I suppose I should," Draco murmured, enjoying Harry's game.

He watched as Harry straddled him, repeating the Lubrication Spell on Draco's cock and then carefully straddling it, gripping it by the base to guide it as he slowly sank down on its length. Draco craned his head, a bolt of pure lust shooting through him at the delicious sight of Harry's hard cock jutting up out of a tangle of dark curls, his balls falling heavily across Draco's pelvis. He tried to stretch to grab Harry's erection, frustrated when he couldn't. Harry was leaning too far back, supporting himself against the mattress as he slowly fucked himself on Draco's cock.

Draco bucked his hips up, biting back a moan when the movement drove him even deeper into Harry. He wasn't going to last long, but he doubted Harry would be able to maintain this position for long anyway. He could see the muscles in Harry's thighs bulging with the effort of holding himself up. Draco drove up again before grabbing Harry's hips and forcefully pulling away, letting his cock slip free.

"Knees," he barked, his breathing too heavy for more of an explanation.

It was enough for Harry, though, who quickly complied, flipping over and bracing himself on his hands and knees. Draco sheathed himself inside Harry's tight heat again, moaning out loud when the new position let him thrust even deeper inside the dark-haired man. He snaked an arm around Harry's hips, his hand closing around Harry's neglected cock and pumping it in time with his thrusts. They were both groaning uncontrollably by now, and Draco knew it wouldn't take much to send them both over the edge.

"Harry," he moaned, wanting to assure his husband he was thinking of him not someone else. "God, Harry. So good."

Harry made a whimpering noise that was almost a sob at the words, his balls tightening as Draco sped up his strokes and changed the angle slightly, making sure his thrusts hit Harry's prostate. He managed another strangled gasp before he was coming, his entire world narrowing to Draco's cock in his arse and Draco's hand on his cock. He leaned heavily on the mattress as Draco continued to pound into him, spurting his own release deep inside Harry and crying out his name again.

Draco stilled his strokes as they both shuddered their way through the aftershocks of their orgasms, finally pressing a soft kiss to Harry's back and pulling out carefully. A few quick spells had them clean and dry before they cuddled up together, Harry resting against the headboard and Draco's cheek pillowed against his chest, listening to his heart as it slowly returned to normal.

"Don't stop reading the book on my account," Harry said after a few minutes of silence. "If spectacular sex is a byproduct of your obsession with this Edward character, then obsess away. Maybe I'll even read the book."

"Right," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The day you read this book willingly is the day I throw a party for all your Gryffindork friends at Manor."

Harry laughed. Draco was right – he had no desire to read anything that wasn't a newspaper or an Auror handbook. Still, it might be worth it if it meant forcing Draco to spend a tame night among former Gryffindors – there was no way any party with them in attendance could end with half the guests committing adultery, like most Slytherin parties did.

"You might be right about that," Harry conceded, grabbing Draco's hand on impulse and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.

– End –

As I noted earlier, this was written in honor of darling Selly's birthday. It's in the same story arc as my fic Masquerade and her story Breaking Dawn. Go read 'em if you haven't already!