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The Perfect Bed

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By the third bed emporium Harry was having regrets about shopping with his fiancé. Draco was a wizard of exacting demands and thus far not a single bed on Diagon Alley had come close to meeting his precise requirements.

Draco had been sniffy, fastidious and downright finicky about every single piece of furniture. Sales-Elves had been interrogated with a thousand questions until Harry had been compelled to whisper his apologies. Draco assessed every model for springiness and softness but nothing met his superior Malfoy standards. Quite honestly, the Triwizard Tasks were starting to feel effortless when compared to this mammoth chore.

Harry rolled his eyes when nothing in Evelyn’s Enchanted Bedrooms passed muster. “Merlin. They’re all fine,” he hissed at Draco. “Just pick one!”

“It’s got to be perfect, Potter,” Draco muttered darkly over an ebony model covered in tiny carved dragons. “And this absolutely isn’t. No doubt you’d be content slumbering on a straw mattress but I actually want to sleep during the night.”

SleepEeeZees was their last resort.

Even Draco was ready to give up when he finally spied a bed that he deemed unobjectionable.

“Now I could live with this,” Draco exclaimed, running a finger over the carved oak side. The bed was heavy and ancient, carved with protective runes and wrapped in protective wards. Harry raised an eyebrow behind his wire frames. If Draco liked the bed, it was automatically wonderful in his book.

“The mattress is charmed,” Draco read, impressed. “As hard or soft as the sleeper enjoys. Hop on Potter! See if you like it.”

The two of them lay down on the oak bed which Harry decided was scandalously comfortable. The shop was almost deserted so he risked slipping an arm around Draco, pulling him into a sneaky embrace.

“I love it,” Harry replied, unable to believe that Draco had made a decision.

“Me too,” Draco smiled. “Our first bed, Potter. To go into our newly decorated home. To cuddle, sleep and make love in. To spend our lives in. Told you that it had to be perfect.”

Ours. That sounded good, Harry thought. He gave Draco a kiss, all thoughts of his lovers fussiness evaporating like magic.