Perfect Triangle

Part Two

Babblings: Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews. I'm beginning to see that people really love threesomes. And threesomes with mpreg? Even better! I might have to write some more often.

Warning: The mpreg part of this story is introduced in this part. So if mpreg is not your thing now is the time to turn back. Also, if you don't like reading about three men having sex together now would also be the opportune moment to click the little back arrow. So it would be in your best interest to not leave me any flames, because for one, I warned you, and for two, I just laugh (really hard) at flamers.

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Harry soon found that he was very good at playing the avoidance game. He came in at the very last moment to his classes and sat in the back of the room near the door. When class was dismissed he was the first one out. He also avoided the Great Hall as much as possible, unable to bear the sight of looking at both Severus and Draco at the same time. Many times, he asked Hermione or Ron to bring him some food later. After several days of this "ridiculousness", Hermione and Ron finally decided to find out what was going on.

"Harry, listen," Hermione said, sitting beside Harry on an old, ratty couch in the Gryffindor common room. "Ron and I don't know what happened when you disappeared, but maybe if you told us, we could help. I mean, we've been your best friends for nigh on seven years now."

"Yeah, mate," agreed Ron, plopping down on Harry's other side.

The green-eyed boy looked up from the book he was reading for Charms, rolling his eyes in a light-hearted way, hoping to change the subject or at least get out of answering them.

"We've seen you, Harry, how you've been so skittish lately," Hermione prompted. "Something's up."

Harry shook his head. "It's nothing. I've just been feeling kind of under-the-weather lately. I think I've still got a cold or something."

"But you wouldn't have gotten a cold if you hadn't have been out in that freezing weather," his red-head best friend said.

Harry mentally groaned. He'd backed himself into a corner. But maybe if he just told a half-truth… "Snape and Malfoy are together… I just couldn't bring myself to intrude on their little love-fest any longer, so I left."

Ron's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ew, mate. If that's the case then I'm surprised you lasted that long."

Hermione hit him in the shoulder. She was a smart girl. She'd known for quite some time that Harry had feelings for them. It wasn't hard to figure out. Harry wasn't a hard person to read. His every emotion displayed like an open book on his handsome face. She knew Harry's recent depression and insomnia and lack of appetite had everything to do with something that happened while he was with Draco and Severus. She knew Harry was lying to them. That wasn't all that happened. But she didn't know what else… "Ronald Weasley, you are one of the most insensitive people I have ever met."

The red-head scowled. "Well, it's true."

Hermione ignored him and placed a calming hand on Harry's leg. "Is there anything else?" Harry shook his head. She sighed. She'd get it out of him sooner or later.

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"Potter!"

Harry let out a long sigh and turned, reluctantly, around, thinking that Draco had finally caught up with him. Instead, he found himself glaring up into the eyes of Blaise Zabini. Harry glared. Blaise had never been nice to him – well, he hadn't been nice to him before Harry had started talking with Draco; maybe things had changed by now.

"Hey," said Blaise, putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm not gonna do anything to you."

Immediately, the Harry visibly relaxed. He could tell by the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that the Slytherin boy was being sincere. "So what do you want?" he asked, his voice a bit guarded.

"Listen, Potter," Blaise began, "I may not seem like it, but I'm a rather empathetic person. I can see that all is not well in Potter Land and I think I know why and I'd like to help you."

"You think you know, huh?" Harry still couldn't tell if the other boy could be entirely trusted. They barely knew each other; had barely said more than a few words to each other in nearly seven years. Harry wasn't about to just blurt his heart out to someone who was nearly equivalent to a stranger to him. "What makes you think I'm suffering? I'm fine. Better than when Voldemort was after my head." This wasn't entirely true. He seemed to be having a harder time coping with a broken heart than dealing with the Dark Lord. That had been easy. There was only one option: kill. In this new scenario, Harry just had too many options to deal with.

"Well, for one thing you look as though you've lost half your body weight in the last couple weeks." Harry looked down at himself skeptically. Blaise was over-exaggerating. He'd only lost a couple of (not noticeable) pounds. "Okay," said the bigger boy, laughing, "I exaggerated a little bit, but you're still losing weight and you were scrawny before. It can't be healthy. Nearly the only time people do this to themselves is when they've got a broken heart.

Harry rolled his eyes, saying, "You're losing your mind, Zabini," before starting to walk away. When he felt a large hand settle on his shoulder, he stopped, but didn't look at Blaise. He waited for the boy to say something.

"I'm not losing it, Harry." Harry's breath hitched at the way Blaise said his first name. "Please, can we just talk, maybe? Tomorrow's a Hogsmeade day. We could walk together if you don't have other plans."

The dark-haired Gryffindor let out a long, slightly-annoyed sigh, but nodded and gave a quiet "fine".

"I'll meet you in front of the school then. Wait until most everyone has already left." Harry watched him as he walked away, disappearing down a separate corridor. He stayed in that same spot for a long, long while, wondering what that was all about.

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Hermione and Ron eyed him suspiciously when Harry told them he wouldn't be joining them in Hogsmeade that day; that he was going with someone else. The question burned in their eyes, but Harry figured it was none of their business, even though they were his best friends. Besides, Ron would probably go into a rant about how much he hated Slytherins and Harry just didn't have the will to listen to that this early in the morning. His head was already pounding.

Harry waited around for awhile until everyone had left save for one solitary figure: Blaise. Head held high to show the bigger boy he wasn't afraid or nervous, he walked out to the nearly deserted courtyard. "Hey," he said.

Blaise grinned and looped his arm through Harry's, surprising him. "Good morning," he greeted and led Harry off the Hogwarts grounds.

They walked in silence for a ways. Harry found himself shivering in the frigid January air, but he said nothing, instead taking in his surroundings. The morning sun glistened off the snow. In a way, it was beautiful. Harry was glad he had someone to be with, even though Blaise wasn't his first choice. His first choices would never share in this. Maybe it would be best if he just moved on. Is that what Blaise wanted? Did he want to date Harry or did he just simply want to help… or get into his pants?

"What are you trying to do?" Harry asked just as the village was coming into view.

The boy shrugged, but then said, a soft grin on his lips, "I want to know what Draco is missing out on."

So he knew then. But maybe that was okay. Maybe it would help him move on if that happened. Maybe if Blaise dated or slept with him he could forget about Severus and Draco. He didn't ask how Blaise knew. He was friends with Draco.

"What did Draco tell you?"

"Just that something happened over the break and that he and Snape had made fools of themselves. He also said that he was worried about you and that you were ignoring him."

At this, Harry laughed – bitterly. "What happened should have never happened."

They were inside the village now, in amongst the bustle of students and older witches and wizards. No one paid them much attention. Harry adjusted his scarf to block out some more cold air. He inhaled and suddenly remembered that this was the same scarf he'd worn when he'd arrived at Severus' house. Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to throw the thing took him over, but he suppressed it in time. And then, before he could stop it, he choked back a harsh sob. Blaise, slightly startled, grabbed Harry's hand and led him into an ally, pressing him up against the wall.

"Harry," he whispered, "don't do this to yourself. If they hurt you this bad, they aren't worth it, you hear me?"

"You don't know anything," Harry hissed, eyes shining with held-back tears.

"You're right. I don't know. But I can help you forget them." With that, he pressed his lips against Harry's, gently, not forcefully like Severus and Draco's kisses, but somehow Harry preferred those ones. Harry couldn't say no to the chance to forget. So he let go, opening his mouth to Blaise's tongue, giving into the sensations, but knowing at the back of his mind that he didn't want to do this.

They wandered around the stores for a bit, both of them knowing what would happen when they arrived back at the castle. They left early, Blaise dragging him, running, all the way back. Blaise hurriedly paced back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement and then opened the door, revealing a huge canopied bed and not much else. The bigger boy pushed Harry on the bed and began to ravish his body. Before he took Harry he made sure of cast a couple spells, none of which Harry recognized, but he assumed Blaise knew what he was doing.

When Blaise first entered his body, Harry cried out in pain but he wouldn't allow for tears and crying. He was stronger than that. This was his first time. He'd always pictured it to be something special; that he would be with someone he loved, not someone who just wanted him to forget love. Severus and Draco's faces came into his mind as he came and then when he curled up against Blaise, begging for sleep.

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Harry and Blaise were not a couple by any means, but they did get together whenever Harry needed comforting or Blaise wanted to fuck. Harry never forgot, but he pretended that he forgot. He started to eat again, although maybe not quite so much as before. He cast glamour spells to hide the dark circles under his eyes from nights and nights of insomnia. He still avoided Draco and Severus as much as possible. Hermione still pestered him as to what had happened over Christmas, but he never gave her a real answer. He loved Severus and Draco. That was that. But they loved each other. They didn't need him. They'd get married once Draco graduated and they would live happily ever after. And Harry would eventually move on.

Speaking of graduation… Harry was due to graduate in one day. He had one more night before he left Hogwarts, never to come back as a student. He assumed he'd be spending it with Blaise, but the boy was nowhere to be found. That was what he was doing at the moment: looking for his fucking partner. That's all Blaise was to him. That's all Harry was to Blaise. They both knew it. Just then, as he rounded the corner, he ran right into the boy he was looking for, knocking him to the floor. Blaise grinned and pulled him up, wrapping his hand around Harry's wrist. "I was looking for you," he said, leaning his to kiss Harry's lips, right there in the hallway, in full view of anyone passing by. Harry didn't protest, just gave himself away, as per usual.

Then, as Blaise began to suck on his neck, they were wrenched apart by someone stronger than the both of them. Harry looked up, face flushed, into the eyes of someone he'd been trying so hard for the past six months to avoid. "Until tomorrow afternoon, you two are still students here in Hogwarts and such public displays of affection are not permitted." Severus sneered, his face full of anger and a bit of something else Harry couldn't quite place. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath smelled of alcohol. What was going on?

Harry lowered his eyes, leaning against Blaise. "Sorry, sir. We'll go somewhere more private." What that, he grabbed Blaise's hand and prepared to leave, but Severus stepped in front of them.

"Mr. Potter, you will come with me," he demanded. "Blaise, go back to your dormitory." Blaise gave Harry one last apologetic look before running away from him and the Slytherin Head of House.

"That's not fair, sir," Harry glared. "You can't punish me and let Blaise go just because he's in your House."

Severus laughed and, by the sound of his laugh, Harry knew he was drunk – which was odd. As far as he knew, the potion's master never drank, or, if he did, it was in reasonable quantities. "Oh, Mr. Potter, you are not getting punished. But you are coming with me." He grabbed Harry's arm, tight enough to leave a bruise, and look him down to the dungeons.

Harry had no idea where they were going. They were in a part of the castle he'd never been in before. Finally, they arrived in front of a door which Severus quickly opened up, revealing Draco, in an equally or more drunken state than Severus. Then Harry began to panic. He tried to get out the door, but Severus was blocking it. "What are you doing?"

Draco stepped up to him, tears in his eyes. "Harry, don't you understand?"

The smaller boy shook his head, backing up until his backside hit the wall. He just wanted to get out; get back to Blaise, the only solid figure in his life. Blaise was always there even if only as a fuck buddy. "Let me out," he said, his voice surprisingly strong. "You two are drunk. You never drink. I'm getting out of here before either of you do something you'll regret."

Draco breathed against his neck. "Harry, we missed you. You aren't leaving here. If you leave, you'll just go back to Blaise and we can't have that."

"Blaise doesn't care about you." This time it was Severus who spoke. He took another swig of the vodka and Harry felt the fear rise in his heart. "He's been using you for six months."

"At least he didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do!" Harry bellowed.

"But you do want this," Draco said. "You told me yourself that you love us."

"I do," Harry replied, his voice going down to a whisper. "But you don't love me and I'm definitely not going to do anything with you when you are drunk off your arses."

"But we want to show you we love you, too," Severus spoke up, stepping closer and kissing Harry. If he hadn't been drinking, Harry may have believed him.

Harry shook his head, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this. He told himself that one night with them, even drunk, would be better than none at all. His heart had been longing for them for so long and who was he to pass this up? He'd been having sex with Blaise for months even though he didn't love him, so what was loveless sex with Draco and Severus? He tried to tell himself that they were the same thing, but they weren't. At least with Blaise, neither of their hearts were involved, but with Draco and Severus, it would be Harry's heart that broke, not theirs. But maybe one night would be worth it. "Okay," he choked out in a strangled voice. They were on him and pulling him to Severus' large bed before he even so much as had the chance to move.

Severus lifted up his shirt while Draco pulled off his pants and boxers. They both began kissing and lapping and biting his body. In spite of himself, Harry moaned. Draco and Severus shared a look, before Draco went back down and inserted a finger into Harry. Blaise had never taken the time to stretch him. With Blaise it was always hard and fast, never gentle. In the next several minutes, Draco stretched him carefully while Severus took time to find all of Harry's weak points.

Then, without warning, Draco thrust himself, forcefully, inside Harry. The boy hissed at the intense pain, but it soon went away and he was moaning in pleasure. He had no idea how long it went on, but it was amazing. Draco came inside of him, and, at the moment, Harry thought nothing of it.

Severus smirked down at Harry. It was his turn.

Throughout the night, Harry almost forgot that come morning they would most likely forget this had ever happened. He almost forgot that they didn't love him. His body was ravaged in every way possible and taken in every way by both Draco and Severus. No part of him had been left unexplored. Even though everything was sloppy with drunkenness, it still felt right. It felt perfect. For those few hours, everything was alright in the world. That night he fell asleep in tangled up with two other bodies.

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Harry was the first to wake the next morning. His world came crashing down around him as he remembered the night before. Wiping away the beginnings of tears threatening to fall from his eyes, he crawled out from the others' arms and awkwardly got his clothes on. It hurt to move. He'd been taken more times the previous night than he could count. He grabbed a quill and quickly scribbled out a note.

Severus and Draco,

I can't be around after last night. It should never have happened. I wish you both the best of luck and happiness. Grow old together. Love each other. Adopt children together. You more than deserve it, and I mean that.

Please inform Professor Dumbledore than I will not be able to make it to the graduation and that I am infinitely sorry.

Love,

Harry

He left the note on Severus' nightstand, taking one last look at the two. They both looked so perfect together. Unconsciously, in their sleep, they'd moved closer and now clung to each other, not even realizing that Harry was no longer in the bed with them. Draco curled against Severus' chest, the morning sun reflecting off his brilliant blonde hair. Severus wrapped his arms around Draco. They would have massive headaches when they woke up, though. Harry shook his head, finally allowing the tears now to flow freely and silently down his cheeks.

Harry ran as fast as his sore muscles would allow to the Gryffindor tower. Everyone was still sleeping. He swiftly and quietly packed his things and then shrunk his trunk so it could fit into his pocket. He rushed out across the Hogwarts lawn and out the gate. Concentrating on his destination, he apparated.

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It had been two weeks. Two weeks since he left Hogwarts. Two weeks since his night with Draco and Severus. He'd first apparated to London, unsure of where to go, but now he found himself in a very small wizarding village in the middle of the England countryside. He'd found it when looking through magical realtor ads in London. It was an obscure town; one he'd never heard of before. But that was alright. If he'd never heard of it, most other people hadn't either. It had a population of only a few hundred, maybe a thousand. It consisted of one small clinic with one healer, one grocery store, two restaurants, one bar, a library, a handful of other small businesses, and not much else. It was a lazy town. Harry was living in a small, picture-perfect house, which he'd easily bought with his inheritance. He spent his days reading books from the library and contemplating where he should apply for a job.

And then, in the second week, he began to get sick in the mornings. At first he put it off as a stomach bug, but when it went on for a week, he decided to see the village's healer. The healer couldn't really do much. If it was more than just the stomach flu, he'd most likely have to go to St. Mungo's, but Harry didn't want to go there and risk running into anyone he knew. That was why he was here, in the middle of nowhere, in the first place: to escape from everything, at least for a little while.

Harry stood in front of the whitewashed clinic, shifting from foot to foot. He was nervous. What if he was dying? Maybe he was dying of a broken heart. What is possible to die of a broken heart? He nearly laughed at the thought before taking off his glasses and making sure his long hair was covering his scar and stepping through the door. He was going to at least attempt to conceal himself as he didn't want it getting on the media that he was here. He stumbled up to the desk, trying to see through the blurry world. The receptionist greeted him. "Hello there. How can I help you?"

"Uh, I just need to get an appointment."

"You're in luck," she grinned. "There are no appointments scheduled for the moment and the Healer Jonathan is most likely just sitting back there twiddling his thumbs." She stood up and disappeared behind a door, appearing again a moment later and telling Harry to follow her. She left him in a small examining room with a few papers to fill out. He put his name down as Marcus Peterson. A few minutes later, a tall man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes entered. He took Harry's papers with a smile. "So, uh, Marcus, what seems to be the problem?"

"I've, um, been throwing up every morning for over a week now," Harry said, blushing a bit.

"Is that all?"

"For the moment, yes."

The healer nodded. "Just lay back on the table. I'm going to perform a few procedures. Don't worry. You won't feel a thing. Just close your eyes and relax."

Harry did as he was told, attempting to relax his tense muscles. The healer was right. He didn't feel a thing, but when he heard a small gasp from the doctor, he knew it couldn't mean anything good. "What is it?" he asked in a small voice.

"Well, Mr. Peterson, I don't know how to tell you this, but you are pregnant. With twins."

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Babblings: I know that that lemon was sucky. I didn't want to write it all, but I had to point out a certain thing you will see in the next chapter. You will get a real lemon in probably the next part.

Please tell me what you think. It is, as always, greatly appreciated.