A/N: The end, the REAL end has come for Draco and Harry. It's been wonderful reading all your reviews, hearing how you feel about our favorite couple. A bajillion thanks to: Andrew-squee, Crowley Black, Desinire, official-slasher101, ElfArrow, princess cythera and whoever I may have missed by accident. I look forward to hearing from you guys every time a new chapter goes up. But don't worry, this may be the last chapter but it's definitely not the last story.

To all the other readers (and reviewers!), thanks for taking time to read this. A writer always wants to affect his or her readers, so hopefully I have been able to deliver. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Did I ever really own anything? Nope. Not now, not ever.

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It's just about after dawn, and here I am pouring myself a cup of coffee and Potter has just snuck out of the boy's dormitories here in the Slytherin dungeons. He has a love bite redder than a Gryffindor scarf on his collarbone, and his hair looks even more rumpled than ever. He brushes past me with a curt nod, but please. Anyone can tell that he just doesn't want to have to make conversation. Completely understandable; I must have scared him in the locker room.

Has it really been a whole month since I cornered him there? Huh. You'd think they had been at it for longer than that, they way they carry on. They're enough to make Sugar Quills sick, the way they shoot those toxic glances over steaming cauldrons during Potions or how they both disappear for about twenty minutes in Herbology and come back with both their ties askew. Oh, and don't even get me started on the mornings-after. Let me just say that Potter's exit this morning is a lot more graceful than Draco coming in from Gryffindor tower. I'm usually awake to catch one or the other, and they both give me the same look of "Really, you DID have something to do with it anyway." Now I kind of look back on everything and wonder if I should have.

Doesn't matter I guess. If there's one thing I know about Draco, he always gets who he wants. It must be something he picked up from me. At any rate, he seems contented with Potter and he looks happier than he has in a long, long time. Potter walks around with this huge idiotic grin on his face too, when he's not trying to maintain some kind of composure when there are a lot of people in the room.

So much for playing fairy godmother. All it's gotten me is a nasty temper in the mornings and a load of suppressed sexual tension that has me humming like a guitar string in higher E. Why, just last night I had considered jumping Ron Weasley when we were both on patrolling the corridors last night. I had already made a couple moves on him during the week, but he managed to squirm his way out of anything. Which is just as well, I hate having marks on my otherwise perfect record.

I haven't been with anyone since that Ravenclaw from about a month ago, which makes it a whole month of nothing but abstinence. Good god, who would have thought I would have lasted this long and not go crazy? So it makes me wonder. Is that Ravenclaw still interested?

FIN! (For real, this time)

A/N: It's always sad to close a story. Writing about Harry, Draco and Blaise was so much fun, especially Blaise. Reading the reviews added much, much more to the thrill of writing because it gave me the sense that this story completely fulfilled what this writer set out to do, and it was to make you all fall in love a little bit more with Harry and Draco as a pair. Thanks for tuning in to this story, and just to tease all of you, here's a preview of Blaise's story:

The most he could have hoped for was a goodbye before he left, but no. Blaise woke up most mornings with an empty spot next to him. He was lucky if he could wake up to find his latest escapade sneaking out the door of his dormitory, with his robes swathed in his arms and a look that he didn't recall ever seeing the night before. Then, it would just be a nod apiece before the door would close and Blaise would roll over to try and catch a few minutes of sleep more.

But on some occasions, like that rainy night, where he was seated on the window seat watching rain smack against the windows with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, he wondered if there was anything more than what he had in the mornings. He wondered if there was such thing as being able to greet your partner 'Good morning' instead of 'Make sure you lock the door behind you'. He wondered why that dull throbbing in his chest always started when he saw Draco and Harry walk around with each other's ties sticking out of their pockets. But most of all, he wondered why it had never occurred to him to want what they had.