I do not own anything, I just use them for my stories. This is my disclamier. I might not remember to put one in everytime, but oh well. I hope you like my story.

I follow you though the night, the darkness surrounding you and me. You know I'm following you, I always do. Its past midnight, no one is in the streets; no one is awake besides us. Your shoes click against the brick street, the street lamps barely giving off any light.

"Draco,"

You've never spoken to me before when we do this; it takes me by surprise, "Yes Harry?"

"Why do we do this?"

Before I can answer you continue, "Why do you follow me when I go out at night, when you know everyone will be sleeping, why don't we say anything about it the next morning? Why do you care what happens to me? No one else does,"

You won't like the real answers to those questions. I follow you because I don't want you to do something stupid, I don't say anything because you come out here to think, to clear your head, to be yourself without someone telling you to be different. I care what happens to you because I love you.

You defeated Voldemort at the end of seventh year, if you could even call it that. After that you announced to the world that you were gay; in the wizarding world it isn't a big deal, but you, Harry Potter, savor of the wizarding world was gay. You broke Ginny Weasley's heart, and everyone heard about it.

The world turned its back on you because of what she said, no one cared that she didn't love you anyway, or that in three months she got married to Neville, and seven months later she gave birth. The child wasn't premature, and it wasn't yours, you'd never done more than snog her.

"Someone has to take care of you, and it might as well be me, Harry."

You fall silent, turning a corner, I don't worry, I know this town so well I could walk it in my sleep, there's nowhere to go from here; we're in the middle of town.

I had turned spy, for you. Ron and Hermione knew I loved you. That didn't care; Ron knew his sister didn't love you. They made you believe that I was fine, that I wouldn't betray you. They knew it would kill me do to so to you. They married a couple of years ago, had twins even.

After the war, you weren't you; someone needed to take care of you. I volunteered, when I did so, Dumbledore had the twinkle in his eyes, the know it all; he knew why I was doing it. That was three years ago.

I turn the corner, listening to the clicking noises that our shoes make.

We moved here right away, an old fashioned little town, almost no wizards, full of families, on the outskirts of England. Even now, you're not who you used to be, but everyone loves you still. They just do it in hiding, remembering everything Ginny said about you, how much damage you supposedly did to her.

The first couple of months you broke down crying a lot, and I couldn't blame you; I would to, in privacy, of course.

Your footsteps stop, and I stop also. I'm about twenty feet away from you; you turn around, a light making your face shine, like you're an angel from heaven, my angel sent to save me.

"Draco," there's something wrong; it's in your voice.

"Is something bothering you tonight, Harry?"

You look away, to where we can hear the ocean crashing against the rock cliff; you shake your head yes.

I take a step forward, "What is it Harry?" I have to encourage you, letting you know that I want to listen to you, that what you say matters to someone.

You look at me, "You shouldn't have to do this, I'm fine now; you could leave if you wanted,"

I shake my head and smile, "I like it here; I like it here with you. It's nice here, no wizards to jeer and yell at me here, except you, of course, and you only yell sometimes,"

You laugh, smiling at me. I smile back. I love your smile, I sound pathetic.

"Thank you, Draco."

I walk up to you, "Harry, I'll always be here for you, you know that, right?"

You nod your head, "Yes, I know, Draco, thank you,"

I smile again, and you smile back, something pops in your eyes. You still wear your emotions on your sleeves.

"What is it Harry?"

"You," I give you a questioning look and you smile, "You're under the lamp, it makes your face shine, you look like angel, the angel that was sent to save me."

I give you a weak smile, having to fight hard to keep my emotions under control, out of habit, out of not wanting you to see how much I love you, how much you mean to me.

"What if I said the same thing about you? That you're the angel that was sent to save me?" Because you did, I joined the light side for you, if I hadn't I would have died, and that was you saving me, just like you saved everyone else.

You look down, and my smile fades, weak in the first place. You shake your head, "I didn't save anyone, I did was right."

I place my hand on your shoulder, "That's not what I meant Harry,"

I shouldn't have said that, you'll want to know how you saved me, and I can't tell you that. But you surprise me, and don't say anything about it; you just continue to look at me.

"What is it, Harry? What's the matter?"

"It's nothing to worry about now."

I nod my head, accepting the answer, for now. You pull me into a hug, surprising me out of my thoughts. I wrap my arms around you, and we stand there, under the lamp, glowing light angels.