A/N: And this is the LAST CHAPTER of this fic. For real, this time. Seriously. Except for that whole series of epilogues thing. But, anyway, hope you enjoy (it's the last chapter. What more is there to say?). I... well, I can't really say I had fun writing this story because it wasn't exactly happy. But I'm sad that it's over. Anyway, read on (if you want to), and thank you, reviewers, for commenting! You make my world of fanfiction writing go round!

Side note: A lot of the instances that happen to the characters in this chapter have actually happened to me. And I'll be working a lot of my typical life into the one-shots. For instance, the thing that happens with the little girl and her mother... yeah, I accidentally taught my six year old neighbor the "'F' word," and now the mother gives me the evil eye every time she sees me (I had a good reason! I was late for the public bus, and they only come by every hour or so! I missed the damned ferry to Seattle! Okay, maybe fuck was a little strong, but...). Also, my best friend (yes, the icecream night friend) thinks Ben Burnley (frontman of Breaking Benjamin) is hot (okay, I think he doesn't look to shabby, but, I'm telling you, my friend is one step away from being obsessed).

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Chapter Twenty Four

"Do you know that I could never leave you?

And know that I could never beat you

And if I could never find you, never mind; I would not forget you"

"Ow!" Ron shouted, clutching his right hand with his left and jumping around the hallway. "Mother fu... er, hello," he said, cutting himself off and smiling painfully at a little girl that was standing in the doorway of her apartment, regarding him solemnly with her thumb in her mouth. A few seconds later, a woman came into view behind her, a scowl twisting her features. "Um..." Ron trailed off, biting his lower lip, "hi. I'm Ron. Nice day, isn't it?"

The silence that followed was eventually broken by Draco's clearing his throat. "Yes, and for someone that said I was slacking off..." Ron turned around and glared at Draco, who was waiting on the other side of the doorway for Ron to resume pushing a table into Draco and Harry's new apartment.

"Are you the new neighbors?" the woman asked, disapproval clear in her tone as she continued to frown at Ron, her hands resting on the girl's shoulders as if ready to cover her ears to block out any further attempts at profanity.

"We are." Harry, who had just come down the hall, set his armful of cardboard boxes on the floor and waved his hand between himself and Draco before holding it out to the woman. "I'm Harry, that's Draco, and this..." he jerked his head toward his best friend, "is Ron. He's helping us move in."

The woman pursed her lips for a few seconds, then reached out and shook hands with Harry. "I'm Erica Stewart, and this is my daughter, Sharon."

Draco leaned over the table, bracing himself against the doorway, and extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Stewart. Miss Stewart." When he addressed Sharon, he managed a small bow and wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle and duck her head shyly. "We'll have him out of your hair soon enough," he said, jerking his head toward Ron.

Harry sighed and shook his head, then smiled tiredly at Mrs. Stewart. "We'll have all of this out of your way in a minute or two," he said, leaning against the table.

"Oh, would you like some help?" Mrs. Stewart asked.

"No, there're more people on the way," Harry replied, staring down the hall. "Or they should be on the way."

"Probably skipped out on all the work," Draco muttered.

"Lucky sons of... oh shi... I mean... er... how about we get this table inside?" Ron avoided Mrs. Stewart's gaze and turned to Draco, who was managing to smile at him evilly while frowning disapprovingly at the same time.

"Tilt it to the left," Harry said, bending over to pick up some of the boxes, "so you don't knock over that lamp when you get it inside."

Draco and Ron complied, then walked the table in slowly, setting it upright in the middle of the room. Just as Harry was putting the boxes on the table, Hermione and Willow entered the apartment, carrying the remainder of Draco and Harry's luggage. "Took you long enough," Draco said, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "We thought you'd skipped out on us."

"Oh, don't think we didn't consider it," Dean grunted as he came through the doorway, carrying a huge bundle of blankets and pillows. "Never thought a couple of quilts could be so damned heavy... oh, shit, help!" he groaned as the load began to topple over, threatening to knock over the one lamp that the superintendent had provided for the apartment so that Draco and Harry would be able to see at night.

"Crap!" Hermione exclaimed, diving across the room to help her boyfriend steady the small tower of blankets in his arms. "Where the hell is Seamus?" she demanded.

"Guarding the car," Dean replied wryly.

"Ugh. That's it. When we get to the duplex, he's unloading everything by himself," Hermione grumbled.

"He'll break everything that isn't his," Dean pointed out.

Hermione groaned. "Why is he living with us, then?" she asked. Dean merely shrugged.

"Because you're the only ones with a two bedroom complex," Willow explained. "It's a pretty lucky thing that Ron can stay in my dorm with me as it is."

"Yeah, and we can't be disrupting the other residents in this building," Draco, who didn't really care at all about the other residents in the building, added.

"You don't give a rat's ass about anyone else in this building," Ron retorted.

"Yes, I do..."

"Harry doesn't count," Ron interrupted.

"Um, okay, well, is that everything?" Willow asked, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking around. "You need any help moving in?" he asked Hermione and Dean.

"Nope," Hermione replied. "Pansy and Millie have already mostly cleaned out the place, and, considering all of the energy that Seamus has reserved by 'guarding the car,' we'll manage just fine, thank you." With that, she led Dean out of the apartment.

"Well, we'll see you soon," Willow said, smiling cheerfully.

Ron rolled his eyes. "You likes school far too much."

"It's not like 'school' school," Willow protested. "It's college. I'll be considered an adult. I'll be respected." At Draco's snort, Willow frowned and left the apartment with Ron, who kept glaring back at Draco over his shoulder.

Harry sighed and closed the door behind them. He looked at Draco for a few seconds, then picked up a few blankets from the pile that Dean had carried up for them and made his way to the room that would be their bedroom.

"What?" Draco asked, following him. "What'd I do?"

"Nothing," Harry said, spreading a quilt out on the floor.

"Well, then, why do I feel like a jackass?" Draco bent over and began to help Harry create a makeshift bed on the floor that they would end up using until they could go out and buy furniture.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know." He avoided Draco's eyes.

"What's wrong? Come on, you'd better tell me before it all blows up in our faces."

"Would it really kill you to be nicer to people?" Harry asked, finally looking up at Draco."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What, you mean like Weasley?"

"I just mean people in general." Harry left the room temporarily and brought back two pillows.

"I have been nice," Draco said.

"Oh, right," Harry deadpanned. "Just... could you... I don't know. Forget I said anything, all right?"

"Harry...?" Draco frowned slightly, concerned.

"I said forget it." Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then rose to his feet. "Want to go watch a movie or something?" he asked.

"No, I do not want to change the subject," Draco replied. "What's up?" When Harry opened his mouth to protest, Draco cut him off. "No, something's wrong. Come on, I've always known when something's bothering you. How the hell else would I have been able to strike a nerve so well when we were in school?"

Harry sighed. "It's just a nerve thing, you know?" he said, kneeling back down on the floor. "We're... we're here. In America. It's just homesickness."

"I thought you hated your home," Draco said. "And I didn't like that stupid family of yours either when we had to get all of your stuff."

"Yeah, I gathered that when you blasted the wall next to Vernon's head to bits," Harry said dryly. "I told you it was stupid."

"No, it's not stupid. I'm a little nervous, too," Draco said, moving closer to Harry. "The thing is, where would you rather be right now?"

Harry thought about it for a few seconds, then said, "Here." He rested his head on Draco's shoulder. "How the hell do you always know what to say?"

"I'm just intuitive like that," Draco replied, running his fingers through Harry's hair. "So, you want to catch that movie..." he trailed off and kissed the top of Harry's head, "or do you want to stay here and find something else to do?"

Harry exhaled and raised his head, looking at Draco. "We haven't had sex in the apartment yet."

Draco grinned. "It's only fair to let every room in this place know exactly what to expect."

"Yeah. But let's get some more blankets so I can move tomorrow, okay?" Harry said, already standing up to get more quilts from the other room.

"Pussy," Draco called after him.

"And here I thought one of the reasons you loved me was because I didn't have one of those," Harry retorted, coming back with an armful of blankets.

"Well, yeah," Draco agreed. "But that's more like a bonus." Harry looked at Draco, puzzled. Draco reached out and snatched Harry's wrists, pulling Harry down so he was straddling the white-blonde. "I love you because you're the only person in this world who can infuriate, confuse, amaze, and arouse me so much at the same time." He kissed the tip of Harry's nose. "And because you're not afraid to slap me down." Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. "I also love how you get cold so easily, and how you sing Heart songs in the shower, and how you won't let anyone in the kitchen when you're cooking, and how you tape all of Breaking Benjamin's music videos so you can watch Ben Burnley sing... oh, and I'll find that cute as long as you don't have groupie sex with him or anything like that."

"Look out, Malfoy," Harry said, blushing slightly, "you're beginning to sound like a cheesy romance novel."

"No, cheesy romance novels would involve my 'making sweet love' to you," Draco said.

Harry grimaced. "Can what we do even be classified as... making love?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter how we do it. Just matters that we do it." Draco laughed when Harry continued to look uncomfortable. "It's a little late to pull the blushing virgin act, isn't it?"

Harry scowled and slapped Draco's arm. "Shut it."

"Mm, I love it when you pout, too," Draco said, running his tongue along Harry's lower lip before kissing him.

"You're ripping off some forty-something year old romance novelist," Harry muttered into Draco's mouth.

Draco pulled away, then pushed Harry back onto the blankets. "So let's do something that we're not likely to find in one of those novels."

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Harry stared up at the ceiling, listening to Draco's soft, even breathing. They'd just finished having sex. No, not having sex. He and Draco had definitely done something different. They'd made love. There was no other term for it. They hadn't pounded each other into the floor. It had been soft and slow. It had very well near killed them both, but it had been worth it. And Harry felt complete and shattered at the same time. And then, as if sensing Harry's darkening mood, Draco frowned and reached out, wrapping his arms around Harry.

The man that lived next door turned on his TV, turning up the volume until Harry could hear an old sitcom through the walls. He wished he hadunpacked his stereo. He'd gotten used to music playing throughout the night, and he hadn't had the time toget outhis belongings, including the box holding his stereo.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. After a few minutes, he opened them again and blew his hair out of his eyes. Draco had helped him forget about his nervousness, but now the apprehension was back. And he didn't know why the hell he feltthe wayhe did. He'd been looking forward to coming to America for a year, at least, and now that he was here, he almost wanted to go back overseas. He shook his head to clear it of his disturbing thoughts. Everything would be fine. All of his friends were with him.

Harry rolled over onto his side and looked at Draco. The blonde was still frowning slightly and stroking Harry's arm. Draco always seemed to know when something was bothering Harry. And it unnerved Harry a little bit. He wasn't quite as intuitive as Draco. Sure, he always knew how to make Draco feel better, but he didn't know how to keep Draco from feeling bad in the first place; he was simply reactionary. Draco just always seemed to know. They could have a continent between them and Draco would still know that something was wrong. Seriously. During the war, Harry and Draco had had to be split up temporarily, and, just when Harry was starting to feel absolutely miserable, Draco had actually called him on a Muggle phone and had simply said, "Snap out of it, and I love you," before hanging up. And Harry had, in fact, snapped out of it. Just like that.

Grinning slightly, Harry reached out and brushed a stray strand of blonde hair away from Draco's face. "You know you've ruined me for everyone else, right?" Harry murmured. "Even if I somehow happen to miraculously come across Ben Burnley on the streets somewhere, I won't be able to jump him or anything." He laughed softly. "I'll probably run and find you first thing to tell you I saw him. Miss my only chance to speak to him, or take a picture, or something like that." He moved closer to Draco, feeling the cold start to seep into the room. "You better not every leave me, damnit, or I swear I'll die."

"Golden Boy deflects the Killing Curse, only to be defeated by a broken heart," Draco said quietly, grinning slyly.

"You bastard, you were awake the whole damn time!" Harry hissed, slapping Draco's head.

Draco merely laughed. "So, even Ben Burnley, the Sex God, pales in comparison to me?" Harry scowled and rolled over so his back was facing Draco. A few seconds later, Draco's arm snaked over his waist. "Come on, I didn't mean to trick you," he said, kissing the nape of Harry's neck. "I was just sort of drifting off when that damned neighbor of ours turned on the TV."

Harry laced his fingers with Draco's. "Not mad at you," he said.

"I know."

"Yeah. I know you know. Prick."

Draco chuckled. "Good night, Harry."

"'Night, Draco," Harry said, suddenly feeling sleepy. Finally.

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A/N: Yes, this is, in fact, the end of this story. Because there is a stretched out epilogue on the way. So, if you enjoyed this fic, look for "Get Dressed Before You Kill Ron," the first one-shot in a series that continues from this point on. Well, not this author's note, but from... oh, you get the idea. However, I do have to update "Running To Stand Still," "Family. Both of them," and "Have I Mentioned How Much I Hate You?" first. Thank you so much for seeing this story to the end! It was probably the easiest fic for me to write so far.