Dear readers...I am so sorry, but this is the last chapter. I ran out of everything - ideas, enthusiasm, story conflict, time, energy...so I had to wrap things up. I am so sorry that after all the UST, after all the plot, it comes to this simple, quick ending. I had planned to have far more scenes between these three, where they talk and have fun...but I just can't give anymore to this fic. I've run out.

Thank you so much for your readership and reviews. I am very indebted.

EVERY YOU, EVERY ME

by The Ultimate Otaku

CHAPTER 10

HARRY

XOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOOOXXO

Harry lay there, naked, and satisfied. He couldn't believe it – naked in the same room as Draco Malfoy! Naked next to gorgeous Blaise Zabini! They weren't quite all friends, not really, but he knew they had potential together.

He lay there for a while, just content, and breathing deeply in and out. He hadn't had much of a chance to relax, even after defeating Voldemort, because school had not stopped. Life went on. But here, time had seemed to stop – reality, too, since this all was so new – and he just enjoyed it. It was so free, and it was so different. Someone always wanted something from him. Now, they just wanted him, and he was happy to give it out, if this satisfaction was the result.

Except he wasn't sure he wanted to give his virginity to Draco Malfoy. No, he wasn't saving it, but he still thought it was something important – like getting a job, or graduating, something normal that he had access to, something he could get, unlike Ron's big family or parents (which he had, anyway, being an honorable Weasley in a sense). Losing one's virginity was a regular milestone and part of life that he could actually participate in. So it was important to him.

Harry decided to keep all those thoughts to himself, and turned over onto his stomach. He looked over at the other two. Draco was lying on his side, and his eyes drank in Harry and then met Harry's. Harry blushed at the greed and joy in that gaze. Blaise, stretched out between them, had his eyes closed.

But his voice again worked to keep them focused on forming a friendship, rather than just the physical.

"How are your friends, Harry?"

Harry shook his head from one side to another. "Well…they're alright. Hermione is working hard for the N.E.W.T.S. and such, trying to cram in as many books as she can before break."

Draco rolled his eyes, and Blaise laughed.

He could see Draco visibly work to ask, "And…Weasley?"

Blaise answered for him. "Jealous as fuck about all the attention, but Harry kindly tolerates him."

Harry shot a single glare at Blaise, and then sighed. "Yeah."

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something biting as usual, but then he closed it. He seemed to pause and think for a moment, struggling to hold back his comments – something which required him to look away from Harry, Harry noticed with a grin – and then he said, "So. Where are you spending your winter break. I'll be here…"

He didn't need to finish. His grimace told that he was going to hate his break, hated his life as a fugitive, and that he desperately wanted them to visit again but was just too damn proud to admit it.

"I'll visit," Blaise said shortly. "Anything's better than being around my mother."

Harry got sidetracked by that. He wondered what Blaise's murderous mother was like. Was she a sick, horrible woman like Bellatrix Lestrange had been, who loved killing? Was she insane?

"I'll probably be at the Burrow," he admitted, and then watched the expectancy on Draco's face fall into sorrow. "But um, maybe I can visit. Since Voldemort's out of the picture. Although, the Death Eaters probably want me dead more than they want you dead…"

He was looking at Draco, so it was obvious to whom he was speaking to. But still, the Slytherin knew he'd left it out any name because of uneasiness. Was his face that easy to read?

"You called me Draco," Draco said quietly. "Don't be shy. Say it."

A smile turned his lips. His chin rested easily on one hand. Looking at the two of them, Harry was breathless. He wondered how he'd managed to get two beautiful boys. And how long they'd be keeping their clothes off. Now that they'd gone this far…he wanted to touch them again.

"Draco," Harry whispered. The reaction it earned was a brilliant smile that was, really, quite handsome. Then he found himself reaching out to the blonde, and pulling Draco into a teeth-crunching, hard kiss.

Blaise watched from below, and when they were done, he said, "I knew you two would be good together."

They all three looked at each other, and Blaise said, "You can both visit me. I'll figure something out. Maybe Dumbledore can help again. And you'll still have time to visit your other friends, Harry."

Other friends. Meaning they were his friends now, too. It was so strange! But he, Harry, had instigated it. And he was enjoying it.

Harry wanted to touch them again, to play again, but he was also curious about them. He settled for twining a curl of Blaise's dark hair around his finger as he asked, "So…what's your mum like?"

Blaise flashed him a grin. "Heard about her, have you? Of course. The Slug Club. My mother is a devil to deal with. She's impulsive as a child, and as worried about fashion and figure as one of those anorexic Muggle models. Her mood swings very easily, and it's hard keeping on her good side for very long. She can be very charming…and she used to be very social, before circumstances required that we be in hiding."

Harry noticed that he skirted around the real issue – that his mother killed a husband a year – and that he didn't seem apologetic about his mother at all.

He wanted to be angry – the men hadn't deserved to be slaughtered – but instead, he read what Blaise didn't say, as long lashes dipped down to cover dark eyes.

"She's your mum," Harry said, "So you love her, even if she's…different."

He remembered what Blaise had said about Narcissa Malfoy, that she was cold but not as manipulative as Lucius, and looked up at their blonde companion. Draco was looking down at Blaise with a frown, as if trying to read him.

But Blaise would not be read if he didn't want to be. He was hiding, with his eyes closed like that. What was he feeling?

"Come on," Harry said, nudging him, "We're friends here. Right?" He looked up at Draco.

The blonde Slytherin swallowed, and then said a little snottily, "You still haven't shaken my hand."

Ah. He still remembered that? The Malfoy pride kicked in at last. Trust it to spoil any good mood. Harry growled, and thrust out his hand. "There."

Draco moved his hand away, instead. "You have to initiate the contact."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright. Alright." He reached over Blaise, and took that soft hand into his, and shook it. "Better?"

Draco's eyes sparkled with mischief and anger mixed. "A bit. But you have to mean it."

Harry was reminded unpleasantly of Bellatrix. Thankfully she was dead now. "Okay."

He noticed Blaise's eyes open now, watching as Harry's hand slid over. Smiling, Harry took Draco's pale, small hand, and shook it firmly. He noticed Draco shook back. "Harry Potter. Nice to meet you. Stop insulting my friends and I think we'll be okay. Oh and by the way, you're, er, attractive."

Draco smiled that rare, brilliant smile again, and a low rumbling laugh worked its way out of Blaise's throat. "Harry Potter, you are a character."

Harry smiled. "Actually, the strange thing is that I'm very real, and my strange life is real."

Draco sat up more. "That reminds me. The Parseltongue. What were you saying? And can I see the Chamber of Secrets? I promise I won't do an ancient dance to the statue of Salazar Slytherin."

Harry laughed. "I didn't say anything important. Just, er…stuff."

Blaise lifted his head to look at Draco. "See what I mean? Aggravatingly evasive at times."

"What else did you write about me in your letter, Blaise?" Harry asked.

Blaise didn't get to answer, because Draco asked, "What else did I miss?"

"Well," Blaise counted on his fingers, "There were the kitchens. The visit to the famous Astronomy Tower, in which I only got to kiss him – " that earned him a glare – "and there was the time I got caught by a plant in the greenhouses, by my hair, and Harry saved me."

Draco laughed. "Seriously?"

Blaise flushed, something rare to see. "Yes. My hair is more trouble than it's worth, sometimes."

Harry ran a hand through his own. "I know what you mean!"

The Slytherins laughed, probably at his hair sticking up in all directions now. "And what else?" Draco pressed.

"We went to the Forbidden Forest," Harry grinned, "And I wanted to introduce him to Hagrid, so he could suffer over one of Hagrid's rock cakes, but he distracted me with a night fly. I think he would be a good Chaser, by the way, if he were on the team."

Draco sat up more, and smirked, pointing out, "But then you'd have to play against him."

"So what, I'm still going to beat your arse, even if we're friends now. I'd do the same for Ron or Hermione, if they were on different teams than me."

At that image – Hermione on a broom, he hadn't seen that in years, and Ron a Seeker? – Harry laughed, and the Slytherins laughed with him.

"Harry," Blaise said quietly, smiling. "I noticed it's okay to laugh at your friends if we're laughing with you. That's a great bit of hypocrisy, there."

Then his smile left, and he looked up at Harry. His look wasn't accusing or sharp, but the sudden lack of a smile said he wasn't joking anymore.

Harry squirmed, and then shot out, "Well, you do the same. I bet you two make fun of Crabbe and Goyle all the time."

"That's different," Draco was quick to reply, "Everyone makes fun of them. But your friends are genuine…they're liked…and yet you can make fun of them? And only you? Come on. Weasley's as clumsy as if he had a Bludger constantly hitting his arse, and the – Granger, she's an annoying know it all –"

"Shut it, Malfoy, or I'll shut it for you."

The blonde bristled. "Oh, so it's 'Malfoy' now, eh?"

Blaise sat up between them, and pushed a hand against their chests. "Stop it, you. Draco, hold your tongue. Harry, don't be so quick to react. I made a good point, and he's only supporting it, although he had to add his own lengthy commentary. We know you two don't like each other's friends, that's settled – myself being the exception. Either stop talking about it, or make changes. Whinging on about it doesn't help, and it will give me a headache, and then I will shut you both up."

Harry sat back, away from Blaise's hand, and Malfoy – Draco, whatever – sat back too, grumbling something under his breath. Blaise shot him a glare, and then gave Harry a cautionary look.

When they looked appropriately still, and Harry attempted to look apologetic, Blaise tossed his hair back and said, "Thank Merlin that's over. That's the other part you missed Draco – arguments, none of which were this annoying, some of which were fun, and I was careful not to insult his friends."

Draco harrumphed and said nothing.

Harry sat there, and anger boiled through him. Malfoy was so frustrating! He couldn't but call him Malfoy in his head at times like this. The blonde was insufferable and so stuck in his ways.

But Blaise did have a point that Harry laughed at his friends but didn't let others. It was hypocritical. Really, he should stay loyal all the time, and he shouldn't let Malfoy's petty comments bother him so much. What had he expected, that Malfoy would suddenly buddy up to Ron and Hermione? He didn't understand the Weasley/Malfoy hatred at all, but it was undeniably there. Malfoy's prejudice against Muggleborns was the bigger issue, really.

Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised when Draco said quietly, "Harry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't say lousy things about your friends. Merlin knows they're better than some of mine. Loyal. Informal. Smart. My mouth likes to shoot itself off a lot, and I don't seem to know when to stop…"

"You really don't," Blaise quipped sharply. Draco frowned at him, and then looked at Harry.

Harry swallowed. "Yeah. Well. You should work on that. It's really annoying. But um…" He scratched his head, laughing, "That's how you ended up kissing me, which was how this all started, so I guess it can be good sometimes."

Immediately pleasure spilled into Draco, visible as a becoming blush on his cheeks. "You liked it, didn't you," he purred, and leaning forward, he pulled Harry into another kiss.

This time, he made it slow. His mouth gently moved over Harry's, his tongue eased into Harry's mouth. He explored Harry thoroughly, slowly, with a moan of eagerness tearing out of him. His tongue was a teasing hot whip in Harry's mouth, a fluid eel that sent electric shock waves of pleasure, and stirred Harry towards arousal.

Against his will, Harry found his hands were easing up Draco's neck, pushing into his hair. His body was closer to Draco's now. Blaise sat up, just a little, and his hand combed down through the dark thatch of hair at Harry's abdomen, and then his smooth, long fingers grasped Harry's cock.

Harry moaned at the touch, pulling away from the kiss. He moaned again as Draco's mouth kissed over his neck, while at the same time Blaise's hand began to pump Harry slowly.

As much as Harry enjoyed it, he wanted to explore, too. So he pushed his hands down Draco's shoulders, down, down, to grope his arse. The blonde moaned, "Mmm, Harry…" Then, with his hands shaking, Harry moved his hands forward and slid just his fingertips over Draco's cock.

A violent shiver broke through Draco's body. "Please," he whispered, "please…"

Harry wrapped his hand firmly around Draco's cock. He rubbed his thumb over it quickly, watching, his gaze flitting back and forth from what his hand was doing to Draco's face. The Slytherin's face was flushed now, his cock hard, and he was panting. Harry kept on rubbing, swallowing hard at the display, at where his hand was; at the fact what he was doing this.

His gaze was torn away, as Blaise lifted a hand, and stuck two fingers into his mouth. Harry watched with a barely held back groan boiling in him, as Blaise wetted those two fingers very well. His eyes widened as Blaise hand descended down over Draco's buttocks, and then pressed in –

"Mmm!" Draco's hips bucked suddenly. "Blaise!" he hissed.

A pleased, wide smirk, like a cat's, came over Blaise's face. But his eyes were hooded and dark in lust. Just looking at him with that expression made Harry more aroused. He paused in treating Draco a moment, and then licked his lips. He wanted to make Draco more verbal, more writhing, messier.

His hands gripped Draco's hips hard, and he slid down on the spelled couch. He worked saliva into his mouth, eagerness and nervousness jittering and zapping in him, and then with his eyes closed, he leaned to his task. It was just like other tasks, he told himself. He could do it. If he could defeat the Dark Lord, he could certainly do this.

The bare, heated skin of Draco's cock against Harry's lips was very soft. That was what he registered, beyond the moans Draco was making, and the grunts that Blaise made as he thrust his fingers into Draco. Then Harry was licking, tentatively, shakily, and Draco's hands were fisting in his hair, and he was panting Harry's name over and over.

The sound of his name urged Harry on, and became like an encouraging cheer. So he began to move his tongue faster, arcing it up that veined, hot skin, and the harder and longer he licked, the more he liked it. His face felt hot and his body trembled, but he kept going. He began to add suckling kisses in, tasting Draco, and then his hand wrapped around the base, and it was simple now. He held it with one hand, and licked with the other.

When he reached the head, and licked there, faster, a beautiful whimper that set Harry's hair on end spilled from Draco's lips. He was thrusting forward now, up, and Harry struggled as his cock pushed into Harry's mouth. Gryffindor courage and Slytherin will worked together, and he kept up, as Draco pushed into him. Harry knew he was being noisy now – Merlin, this was good! – and increased the pace.

Blaise was panting below them. Draco was a flushed, sweaty mess, pushing back to Blaise and then up to Harry, his hips jerking up again and again. He was moaning for every swipe of Harry's tongue, and swore when Harry used his teeth a little. Harry's tongue was lashing all over, and he drank in the sweat and lust of his nemesis.

The world was dropped away. He was just Harry, enjoying this, turning his friend into a mush of libido satisfied. He had dreamt of doing this, or having Draco do this to him, after that kiss. He'd certain thought of doing this to Blaise. But actually doing it made a roaring pleasure steam in him and roll through him. It made his limbs tremble, and he himself panting and groaning too, and taking breaks to breathe.

Then he pulled away again, and watched as Draco's pleasure exploded over him. Blaise did not lick it up this time, but spelled it away, and Draco let Blaise hug him to his side with a grin. They were beautiful, naked, sweaty, pleased, smiling at Harry.

"You were good, Harry," Draco said throatily, "So good."

Harry smiled, and laid himself over the two of them. He was content.

XOXOXXOXOXOXOOXOXXOOOXOX

DRACO

Even though it was absolutely boring and terrifying to be a fugitive, Draco was happy whenever Harry showed up. It happened three more times before winter came, and the first two were good.

In the first visit, Harry came to visit him all by himself. Finally! Draco had wanted him all to himself for a while, especially since Blaise had gotten all that time with him. He knew he was burning with jealousy, and he hadn't done a good job of hiding it, but oddly, Harry had been okay with that. All that kissing and more...Merlin, when Draco saw him after that, he almost just wanted to pull the Gryffindor into his arms.

But he didn't. He held that back. Instead, he pulled up a chair and scooted it towards Harry, and then plopped back onto the couch.

They sat across from each other, staring stupidly, and then Harry blurted, "Hey so, um…what are your Christmases usually like? What do you do on winter holidays?"

Draco wiggled further down in his seat and scratched at the knee of his trousers before looking up at Harry. Those green eyes were focused on him, and Harry even looked relaxed and comfortable. He wore one of those horrible Weasley jumpers, a brilliant red. It was a little small on him, and Draco liked that.

"Well…lots. I go see Quidditch tournaments. I go on trips…Russia, China, South Africa, Japan…have you ever seen the weird stuff they do with magic over there? It's really bizarre…lots of strange polyjuice things, and some weird muggle troubles with all their robots and other little entertaining inventions…sometimes I just go to people's houses, if mum drags me to her parties…that gets boring fast. I usually get into trouble at those."

Again, he'd rambled his mouth off. But he had Harry's interest. The brunette raised his brows. "Trouble? Like what?"

He smiled. Draco smiled back.

From there, it was surprisingly easy. Draco told him about the time he had released a whole flock of griffins on his fellow playmates "by accident", and Harry told him about the time he blew up his Aunt Marge. Draco avoided the burning questions he had about Harry's home life, knowing it was a point of upset for Harry, and went on to ask about Parseltongue, the Chamber of Secrets, and Hogwarts secrets Harry was privy to. Finally they descended into discussing games – Quidditch, Chess, and other ones that Draco knew about but Harry didn't.

By the time they paused for breath, it was late into the night. Draco knew that Harry had to leave soon. He didn't want him to. He could sit here like this with Harry forever. He'd wanted this for so long.

They were sitting on the couch next to each other now, and Draco had one arm over Harry's shoulder. It felt perfect to have him close. He had his hand in Harry's hair and was playing with it.

"Harry," he whispered, "I…I want to thank you for…Merlin, this sounds so stupid, but for being you, and being willing to give me a second chance. I've shown you my sides – the stupidity, the jealousy, the happy…a bit of sad…and you don't seem to mind any of it."

Harry looked at him deeply for a moment. Draco was lost in those green eyes by the time Harry responded. "Well," he said, "I get that. I mean…there are a lot of sides to me, too. If everyone doesn't like them, what can you do, you know? But the best of my friends, the people who are closest to me, see all the 'Harry's there are and tolerate them. Every me…so, it's only fair that I give the same back, and try to know you, every you, you know?"

Draco smiled. "Yeah. Yeah. Let's keep trying…learning about each other…"

He leaned in then, and Harry accepted his kiss.

After that, things happened very fast. Once, Blaise showed up to tell Draco quickly that Dumbledore was dying…and the next thing Draco knew, his two brunettes were in his room again, having attended the old man's funeral.

It was then that Draco witnessed Harry cry. He had heard of it, but never seen it up close…and he didn't think Harry would ever be comfortable enough around him to do that.

They sat there silently, mournfully, and he and Blaise traded a concerned look. Harry lay back on the couch, his eyes shut, his entire being seeming shut to them. His magic trickled out from him and made things shake and shiver. He refused to say anything no matter what they said, so they'd stopped trying.

And then tears were gliding down his face. He began to shake and sob uncontrollably. Through his tears, his anger was evident. "I hate this," he growled through his tears, "After everything, after all that guidance, he just…up and dies. After all that! He was supposed to be here longer…to live to two-hundred or something. He was supposed to see me get older, and…see me do something other than just kill stupid Voldemort. He was supposed to be around…"

He crumpled his body in, with Blaise and Draco on either side, as if he didn't want them involved. But when Draco reached out and grabbed his hand really hard, and Blaise wrapped an arm around him, he let them.

He didn't say anything about his friends, about if he had done this with them. But Draco didn't care, really. Harry was hurt, and he wanted to help him all he could. He hadn't ever cared so much about someone else. The fact that Harry was like this in front of him didn't just mean he was hurt though…it spoke a certain level of trust.

Draco was determined to build on that trust, build and build…and he had a feeling, a suspicion, that if he tried his best, put his all into it like he hadn't with anything before, that he could have something, finally, fantastically, with Harry Potter; something more than the friendship he'd first wanted, and more than the lusty fulfillment he'd wanted recently. Something real and meaningful…something where they could be like this, even, and it would be alright.

He had a chance at it, he knew he did, and it was more than he could have ever hoped to have.

XOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXXO

BLAISE

It was a very plain house, on a very plain street, number 4, Privet Drive. Blaise would never have imagined that Harry James Potter lived in such an ordinary place. Of course, the entire wizarding world had never imagined that Harry Potter was anything short of grand, therefore everything related to him must be grand too, right?

Not so. This ugly, far too neat house, with its flowers by the windowsill and the window at the top of the door, was so normal and Muggle that it made Blaise squirm. He'd only agreed to have Harry visit him and Draco at his home because of the desperation he sensed in both their letters – one, pleading for relief from his horrid family and upset friends and grieving, the other bored and antsy and angry at being kept in forced isolation for safety, until some signal came from the Order.

They were both going mad, and Blaise wasn't, so by rights it was his job to arrange everything.

He pressed the doorbell and sighed. He had been waiting for a long time now. Loud shouting came from inside the house, and he could hear Harry now as well as the uncle, and it was making him anxious.

Finally, the door wrenched open, and Harry practically stumbled right into Blaise. His face was flushed and his hair was a tangle. It looked like he'd been running his hands through it in frustration. He wore the same baggy shirt and trousers style Blaise had seen beneath his robes before, as well as a pair of grimy trainers. The hero of the wizarding world looked particularly normal and particularly furious at the moment.

"I'M LEAVING NOW," he bellowed back at his uncle, "SO YOU WON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME ANYMORE! MAYBE I WON"T COME BACK!"

Blaise looked past Harry as a gigantic, huffing, purple-faced man with a mustache came to the door. He jabbed a fat finger in Blaise's face from around Harry.

"You," he growled, "are not welcome in my house, in my yard, or on my doorstep. I demand you leave, this instant, or I'll call the police! Bloody weirdos, invading…at least you rang the doorbell like a normal person."

Blaise gave him a cold, icy glare, so sharp, so hard, that the man was forced to look away first. Then he grabbed Harry's bag, and without a blink, shrunk it and stuffed it into his pocket. Screw Ministry policy. They were too busy dealing with Death Eaters anyway. And his house was Unplottable.

Grinning at the way the fat man goggled Blaise yanked Harry closer. Very close. The uncle was now accompanied in the hall by his hideous wife (Lily had all the good genes, it seemed) and atrociously fat soon. Good. They could see this, too. Blaise winked at the trio, and then pulled Harry into a hard, passionate kiss.

When he was done – mm! – he looked back at the three. The uncle was so purple he was almost black. The aunt had fallen to the side. And the cousin looked like he would have nightmares about it forever. Good. Served the idiots right.

And then Blaise wrapped Harry in a tight embrace, and took him far, far away, where he and Draco could have him to themselves, and where hopefully Harry would be happy, until they had to return back to school and deal with angry friends and crime and House rivalry and everything again.

It was more than enough. It was good – no, delicious, exciting…no, there wasn't really any right word for it.

It was the three of them, together, for however long, happy, like they hadn't been when apart. So, it was close to perfect.

Yes. That was it. Close to perfect.

THE END