Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.

"Draco, could you please stop bitching about him? I know he's being a complete idiot, but it's been almost three weeks!"

"I'm sorry, I just need to vent."

"No, venting is what I endured last week. This is you being extraordinarily pissy, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop. You can't expect them to come to terms with that bomb you dropped on them immediately; just give it some time."

"He wanted me to go into politics! Can you imagine?"

"I'm not going to speak to you anymore if you don't shut up."

"And she expects me to listen to him as though I'm some helpless child!"

"Draco, will you suck my cock now?"

"All because I was honest, even if – what?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He wondered if Draco would ever stop complaining about his parents. At least if his mouth were full, he'd stop talking, Harry thought wryly.

The lift stopped at the second level of the Ministry and the golden grilles began to open. Harry leaned over and kissed Draco quickly on the cheek.

"I'll see you later."

"Come and get me for lunch, okay?"

"Okay." As long as you keep eating, we'll be fine.

Draco waved at Harry as the grilles closed again and took him to the next level.

Ron was waiting for him in his cubicle, a look of boyish excitement plain on his face.

"Hey. So, while you were with the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Stop-Complaining, we settled on a date," he said as Harry sat down.

"A date for wha – oh, right! The wedding!"

Ron gave him a reproving look. "Yes, Harry, the wedding. Anyway, it's the twenty-fifth of October."

"Hmm, the twenty-fifth of October. I dunno if I'll be available then," Harry said.

"Who says you're even invited?"

They laughed.

"Now, Mum has insisted that I carry everything out in the appropriate manner, so even though I know this has been assumed for ages, will you, Harry Potter, be the best man at my wedding?" Ron batted his eyelashes at Harry.

"Oh, Ronald! I thought you'd never ask!"

"Thanks, Harry, you're a real chum." Ron winked at him and went back to his cubicle.

Harry began to sort through the files on his desk, placing them into their respective piles before he started working on them. He'd only ever been to one wedding before, and he'd certainly never been in a wedding.

"Oi, Ron, what exactly is a best man supposed to do? Other than stand next to the groom and look pretty."

"Well, from what I've been told by my dear brothers, the best man is supposed to convince the groom not to run away screaming, and he should be the one man in the room that's never slept with the bride."

"Got that one covered. What about sleeping with the groom?"

"Eew," Ron said delicately.

"Awww, you've hurt my feelings, baby. Don't you think we owe it to ourselves to have one night of passion before you get married?"

"Harry!"

Harry burst into laughter, and Ron soon joined in.

"Malfoy's had a bad influence on you, mate," he said.

"I wouldn't doubt it. So how are all the other wedding plans coming along?"

"Pretty good, actually. It's not as hard as I thought it would be, mixing a Muggle and Wizarding wedding. Hermione's asked a friend of hers to help us out with the Bonding Ceremony; they've worked out a few charms so that the Muggles won't be able to see the Bonder and the pretty light show that goes with it."

"That's clever, but they'll certainly feel the magic, which will be a nice touch."

"That's what Hermione said."

Harry smiled and opened up his first set of filing folders and began reading the report inside. He was so happy for his friends; it seemed like just the other day they were back at Hogwarts and Ron and Hermione were snapping at each other's throats. Funny how you're always mean to the ones you love.

"Are you going to be at home after work?" Ron asked as they left the office to collect their respective partners for lunch.

"I should be. Why?"

"We need to talk about what we're going to do with the apartment once I'm married."

"Oh." Harry hadn't thought about that. The lift stopped at the third level.

"Yeah," Ron said, looking a little bit wistful. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye."

Harry walked slowly to the end of the corridor where the Potions labs were. The idea of not living with Ron in a few short months had depressed him, and he really didn't want to listen to Draco bitch about his parents anymore. He suddenly wasn't very hungry, either. He knocked on the door to the lab and waited. He didn't really need a two-bedroom flat if he was going to be living by himself. He didn't want to get a new flatmate; even though he and Ron shared the rent, it wasn't as though Harry couldn't afford their flat on his own, but he still didn't want to waste the space. The only other option was to get a one-bedroom, or maybe a loft. But he would miss Ron's company more than he could bear to think about.

Harry was startled when the door opened and Draco appeared.

"Hey, come in for a moment; I'm almost finished," he said.

Harry nodded to Tracey and went to sit at Draco's desk to wait. A loft would be nice, but the complex in which he and Ron currently lived didn't have any available. He'd have to ask the Wizarding real-estate agents across town for some options.

"You're awfully quiet, Harry. Anything wrong?" Draco said as he washed his hands.

"Not wrong, really, just depressing. Ron and Hermione have set a wedding date, which means that before too long, I have to find a new place to live."

"What's wrong with your flat?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, I just don't need the extra bedroom. I'd rather use the space for something more useful. Plus the fact that Ron and I have shared living space since we were eleven, I guess it's just occurred to me that I'm going to miss him."

"Oh, Harry, try not to be so homosexual. Just find a new place to live."

They left the lab and went back to the lifts.

"It's not that easy. But I'd better start looking."

"When's the wedding anyway?"

"Twenty-fifth of October," Harry replied.

"Wow. Not wasting any time, are they?"

"Hermione Jane Granger has never wasted a minute of her time on this earth," Harry said, grinning.

Draco smirked. "Something, according to my bloody father, I have yet to achieve. As if he thinks making Potions all day is insufficient!"

Oh, God! Harry closed his eyes in annoyance and wondered idly whether Draco would shut up if he punched him hard enough in the gut.

Ron and Harry sat at their kitchen table two weeks later, copies of the lease on their apartment in front of them.

"So the lease is up on the thirtieth of October, you don't want a new flatmate, and after having checked around, nothing suitable will be available for you until the end of November. Why do you make life difficult?"

"Ron, give me a break. What on earth am I supposed to do with two bedrooms that I can't even convert into something useful?"

"Get over yourself and find a new flatmate."

"No."

"Harry, I'm thinking once again that Malfoy's had a bad influence on you."

"I'm not about to live with some stranger, Ron. I've practically lived with you for twelve years, you can't expect me to just accept some new person just like that. Besides, everyone we know that's our age is either married or living by themselves. I don't think it's too much for me to do the same."

"But Harry, you can't live by yourself until you've got somewhere to live."

"But Ron, what am I supposed to do until then? I can't just renew the lease for a month."

They glared at each other across the table.

What a mess! The depression Harry had been feeling since he'd begun thinking about not having Ron around anymore had dissipated; now he was annoyed. He knew he couldn't blame Ron and Hermione for timing their wedding date with the expiration of the lease on their flat, but it was a bit of an inconvenience for Harry, not having anywhere to live for a month and all.

"Harry, I'm really sorry, you know I am. But you know what my plans are. It's up to you now," Ron said apologetically.

"As usual," Harry muttered.

"And now you're being impossible. Perhaps I'm marrying the wrong woman," Ron said pointedly, the scorn clear in his voice.

Harry's mouth dropped open. Oh! Oh! He did not just call me a woman!

Ron continued to glare at him, his ears bright red.

"Maybe I'd better just move out now and save you the trouble of deciding," Harry said icily.

"Don't be so fucking stupid," Ron snapped.

"Then don't push my buttons!"

Harry stormed out of the kitchen in a whirl of robes that would have made Severus Snape proud. He slammed his bedroom door so hard his bedside lamp capsized onto his bed. Swearing, Harry turned to the wall, barely feeling the pain as his fist connected with the concrete.

It was only later when he'd eventually calmed down that he noticed the blood.

Things were very stiff and uncomfortable between Harry and Ron over the days that followed the argument. Neither wanted to apologise (since they were both right in their own respect), but it was becoming almost unbearable to be together in the apartment when they weren't talking to each other. Ron spent most of his time with Hermione and their respective mothers, planning the wedding, so when he came home he was already irritated, making it much more difficult for him and Harry to even begin to mend things. It was beginning to take a toll on their work.

"Weasley! What the fuck was that?"

Ron pulled off his mask and cloak, looking daggers at Harry.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Potter was in my way!"

"I was not in your way! And how hard is it to aim a fucking curse over my shoulder?"

"That's not the bloody point! Stay the fuck out of my way!"

"FINE!"

Harry tore off his battle gear and stormed out of the Training Room. He burned with anger; if Ron continued to mess their field practices up, they'd be sitting with desk jobs before long – something Harry could not bear to face. It was the third time that week he and Ron had been out in the Training Room, practicing with Mayhew and Tonks, and each time had ended in disaster; had they been out in the real world, someone would have been killed for sure. And it would have been his and Ron's fault.

Hurling his cloak and mask on the ground in the Equipment Room, Harry burst into the large gymnasium on the opposite side of the Training Room. Thankfully, it was still empty. He needed to blow off some steam in the weight room.

"Harry?"

"What?" Harry snapped through gritted teeth.

"Harry, for Merlin's sake! You're going to hurt yourself." Tonks raised her wand and pulled the fifty-pound weight from Harry's grip and sat next to him on the bench. "What's going on with you and Ron?"

"Nothing's going on with me and Ron. And what's it to you anyway?" Oof… stupid question, Harry.

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "I trust by the look on your face that you realise what you've just said. Look, I know there's something going on between you two, but please, please sort it out soon. You've got potential, Harry. I saw it from the first day I met you. I don't want you to lose your chance," she said. She tapped him on the back and left Harry with the weight of her words.

Draco looked at Harry across the table during dinner at the Manor that night, noting the miserable look on his face as he picked at his food.

"Harry, are you okay? You haven't been yourself all week," Draco said, reaching over to take Harry's hand. Harry looked up at him with bruised green eyes and sighed sadly.

"Ron and I had a fight last week, and well, it hasn't been resolved. Now my job is in danger."

"Oh," said Draco, a little bit hurt that Harry had kept this piece of information from him for so long. "Well, what did you fight about?"

"The flat," Harry said. "Ron thinks that I'm being stupid about not getting a new flatmate or just living there by myself until whenever. Maybe I'm being a little bit picky, I dunno, but he made me feel really awful about the whole thing, and I got angry, punched the wall, and we haven't spoken since."

"I don't think you're being picky. If it were me I'd want my own space too, and I guess I can understand why you wouldn't want the two rooms – You know, seeing as I have eight extra ones myself, I really shouldn't talk, but I know what you mean just the same." Harry smiled. "Now, about your job, what's going on there?"

"Since Ron and I had the fight, we haven't exactly been a team during field practice, and well, had we been out actually working, someone could have been killed due to the mistakes we made," Harry said quietly.

"Oh, that's bad. Don't you think it's time to stop fighting? You don't really want to lose your job due to a stupid fight, do you?"

"No, I don't. But I don't know what to say to him. I just think I'm being a bit petulant about it. I mean, I don't have to move out, I just don't want to be… stagnant… you know?"

Draco nodded. "That's perfectly understandable; Ron is moving on with his life, it's only fair that you should be given the choice to do the same. Living arrangements just happen to be a large chip off your broomstick, so to speak."

"Too right."

Draco looked thoughtfully at Harry. My poor baby.

"Do you want dessert, or shall I just clear this up?"

Harry shook his head. "Go ahead, I'm finished." He got up from the table with his plate, and Draco noticed him wince.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, taking the plate from Harry.

"No, I'm fine. I did some work in the weight room this afternoon; I think I overdid it a little."

Rolling his eyes, Draco took out his wand, charmed the plates and dishes clean, and placed them back in the cupboards. "Come on, you. I'm going to give you a massage; I think you deserve some pampering."

Harry smiled and leaned over the table to kiss him. "I love you."

"Love you, too. Now go on and get undressed. I'll be up in a minute." Draco slapped Harry gently on the bum as he left the room.

Draco sat back down at the kitchen table after Harry left the room. His own comment about having eight extra rooms had given him an idea. Why didn't he just ask Harry to move in with him? Sure, they hadn't been dating that long, but they spent enough time together to make it seem longer – which was as much a curse as it was a blessing. Draco knew he was difficult to live with, and it didn't matter who he was living with; he was just himself.

He liked things the way they were in his house, and he wasn't often open to compromise – not that Harry would want to change anything, but he'd seen how Harry kept his bedroom, and it wasn't something Draco would be happy to deal with – even if it was Harry. He also wasn't certain about having Harry around 24/7. Even though they worked on separate floors, they still saw each other often enough to not miss the company during the evenings. It didn't stop them from seeing each other anyway; he just didn't know if it would end up being too close for comfort.

Draco grimaced. Listen to yourself, Draco. Your boyfriend needs somewhere to live for a month and you're more concerned about yourself! That was it. He was going to ask Harry to move in while he was between houses; it was the least he could do, really. It might actually be nice, you twit. Besides, if you ever fight, there are eight extra rooms for him to sleep in.

Shaking his head ruefully, Draco turned out the lights and ran upstairs to tend to his aching and miserable boyfriend.

"What took you so long?" asked a naked Harry from the bed.

"I was fixing your problem," Draco said, pulling off his clothes and laying them on the chair.

"You were fixing my problem? Did you Floo Ron and kick him?"

"No, I did not. That would have been fun, though. Shall I go now?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, thanks. So how'd you fix me?"

"Well, it was just an idea. If you don't want to, it's fine, but I was thinking that maybe you'd like to stay here until your loft, or new flat, or whatever is available?" Draco climbed into bed beside Harry and propped himself up on his elbow. "What do you think?"

Harry looked shocked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, you dolt."

"Draco, that's… that's…"

"Brilliant?"

"Really generous of you," Harry said breathlessly.

"Oh, my sweet little Harry," Draco said, feeling a huge swell of pride in his chest. He leaned over and kissed his lover. "So you'll stay?"

"You're not worried that I'll get in your way? You know I'm not the tidiest of people."

Yes, that's true.

"But I can cook."

Also quite true.

"We'll find a way around the untidy bit. Even if I have to rub your nose in your discarded clothes and beat you with a newspaper," Draco said brightly.

Harry laughed out loud, his usual happy nature poking through his misery of the last few days.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

Harry smiled shyly at him and chewed on his bottom lip, a slight blush staining his cheeks.

God, he's adorable.

Harry leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you, Draco."

"Well, you know I wasn't going to stop by for tea if you'd taken a room in the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry took his hand and kissed his fingers. "So, where's that massage you promised me?"

Draco snatched his hand back. "You ungrateful wretch."

"I said 'thank you'! And I'll say thanks for the massage in a much nicer way when you're finished," Harry said, licking his lips.

"Well, in that case…" Draco grinned.

There was also the benefit of Harry's body in his bed every night to look forward to – that alone was good enough to make up for his untidiness.