Harry woke to the sound of running water and a blissful lack of a headache.

The headaches had been recurring throughout the last few years. He could trace them back to the night, toward the end of sixth year, when he and Draco had decided to have a purely platonic relationship for the sake of their safefty; but he did not.

The war, of course, had given him lots of headaches. Most of them weren't even scar related. He would stare up at the ceiling of the tent, listening to Ron and Hermione sleep, his head swimming with pain.

The final battle at Hogwarts had given him enough nightmares to last him years, enough long nights to grind his teeth in his sleep and wake up with his entire head aching.

But life had to move on, and so it had.

Kingsley had approached him sometime in June. He was rebuilding the Ministry, and he requested Harry and Ron join him as Aurors.

When Harry had mentioned not finishing school, Kingsley had clapped him on the back, laughed his musical laugh, and told Harry he was a war hero.

Harry was still struggling with that idea, but whatever, he had wanted to be an Auror for years. So he had come to London.

The Ministry had been in shambles at the end of the war, but it was slowly being restored. However, it was still heavily cursed, the Floo Portals blocked. No one could Apparate or Disapparate in or out of it.

The options were either to walk, or rent a Muggle car.

Harry was rather amused by this, and had rented a midsized automobile that was a bit swishy for his taste but did the job well. Arthur Weasley had bewitched it for him so it, for the most part, drove itself, although the charms were faulty and occasionally he had to whack the steering wheel repeatedly.

He had taken up residence in a rather nice hotel in London, not too far from the Ministry, that was sufficiently far away from most people he knew. He found himself needing a lot of alone time after the war, though he was closer to Hermione and Ron than he had ever been. Of course, they were in love, and wanted just as much time away from Harry as he needed from everyone else.

Harry had realized rather quickly that staying in this rather nice hotel indefinitely was going drain his Gringotts account, and had come up with the idea of a roommate.

Okay, he had thought, who's rich, just as fucked up as I am, and likely to leave me alone for the most part?

So that was how Draco Malfoy had come back into his life.

Of course, they had been in touch during the war -- they had to be in touch during the war.

Draco had become a reluctant spy for the Light shortly after sixth year began, under prodding from Harry, who insisted that it was the smartest thing you could do, get on well with both sides.

Harry had his own personal reasons for wanting to live with Draco, of course. The war was over, and the danger was gone, they could go back to 'being involved' now, but neither of them had mentioned it, though Harry was dying inside to.

Draco had drawbacks as a roommate, of course.

Like his habit of taking a shower at god-forsaken hours of the morning.

Harry had his own weird post-war habits, he knew, like jumping into the air when the toaster went off, but nothing as inconvenient as this.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked over at the digital clock (this was a Muggle hotel, after all.)

The blurry red numbers read 4:45.

Harry sighed and pulled the comforter over his head. The other bed in the room, Draco's bed, was deserted.

The bathroom door creaked open. Draco stepped out, toweling his white-blond hair dry, another towel draped casually around his waist like an afterthought.

Harry sat up. His eyes skimmed Draco's lithe, naked torso for a moment before meeting Draco's eyes and glaring at him.

"What?" Draco drawled, tossing the wet towel on Harry's bed and striding over to his bed.

"The sun," Harry growled, "is not up yet."

"And?" Draco said, pulling his pajama bottoms back on.

Harry sighed through his nose and pressed his thumbs against his temples. "You're driving me nuts, here, Malfoy."

"Go back to sleep, Potter," Draco said, curling up in the soft white sheets. He sounded amused.

Harry sighed and tried to.

When he actually did wake up, at a more reasonable hour of the morning, he stumbled out into the kitchen area, rumpling his already wind-strewn hair.

Draco was sitting at the table, already immaculately dressed and jiggling his foot like he had been waiting for hours. It wasn't a nervous jiggle, as Draco seemed to have no nervous energy. It was a very passive aggressive jiggle.

"Morning," Harry muttered. "Is there coffee?"

Draco jerked his thumb behind him at the counter.

"I take it you're coming with me this morning, then," Harry said as he poured himself a cup.

"Antonin Dolohov," Draco said.

Draco had been subpoenaed for the trials of about twenty various Death Eaters, and most of them were ongoing, so he usually came with Harry to the Ministry. Harry went to the bright and recently painted Auror training facility, and Draco went down to the dusty courtrooms that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's Pensieve.

"He didn't automatically go to Azkaban?" Harry said, surprised.

"They're trying to avoid..." Draco yawned. "Barty Crouch, y'know," he said.

"Ah," Harry said.

"Which is why they're making my life a living hell," Draco said, looking at his watch, "when they could just as easily throw them in prison right now. Hurry up, Potter."

Harry dressed and they left the hotel together. The lobby was very nicely decorated, which was something he continued to notice daily. It was large, with sumptuous little chintzes and large exotic plants and marble counters.

They piled into the car as they had for the last... Harry wondered. It was early July, so they'd been doing this for a few weeks. He was surprised it had been that long.

The car started itself and began to pull away in the direction of the Ministry.

"Wait, wait," Draco said. He was tugging on his seat belt. "For fuck's sake! Stupid Muggles!" He tugged it harder, but it wouldn't give him any more slack.

"Stop yanking it," Harry said, amused. "It's a seat belt, not your dick."

Draco let out a trademark exasperated sigh and pulled the seat belt very gently.

"There you go," Harry said with sarcastic amounts of condescension.

"So fucking counter-intuitive," Draco hissed.

Harry began to flip through the radio stations. The car picked up wizarding and Muggle radio, which annoyed Draco to no end, and Harry liked to turn to the oldies station just to piss him off.

"Oh, hey," Harry said, when he heard Fred Weasley's voice.

"I'm not listening to the Weasleys," Draco said immediately.

"Wanker," Harry said teasingly.

"... and I asked her if she found me extremely attractive."

"Did she?" said Lee Jordan.

"Ha," George Weasley said.

"No," Fred replied, "but I have hope."

They cut to commercial and they heard Fred and George's prerecorded voices say in unison, "You're listening to PWTTR, Potterwatch turned talk radio!"

"Celestina Warbeck, then?" Harry said, his hand back to the radio.

"Mmph," Draco said distractedly, ruffling through a pile of paperwork. "I don't see why I need to read his file," he said. "I know what he did. I was there."

Harry shrugged.

They pulled into the parking garage near the Ministry.

Harry checked his watch. "I probably won't be done until late," he said.

"I'll walk, then," Draco said. "I only have to testify once today."

Harry nodded and watched Draco walk off for a minute, the longing in his stomach he had been nursing the past year aching a bit as he did.

A/N: It feels SO GOOD to get this down and done with. I've actually planned JoM farther than I had planned DitD, and I've been thinking about it for longer, too.

Few things to note: Completely canon war, except for two things: I did not kill Fred Weasley or Tonks, and of course, Draco was working as a spy for the Light.

If anyone's confused on the plot, feel free to PM me. I tried to explain well and be concise, and usually one of those gets sacrificed along the way.