He made his way past Harry and into the confinement of the darkened shelves. He couldn't stand to be by the boy any longer than that; or else he would've broken down right then and there. And Malfoys did not break down. If one generation ultimately happened to do so, then they did it privately.
Someplace where they couldn't see the guilty and somewhat sympathetic look from the person they only wanted to be loved by.
"Malfoy?" Harry called, sounding confused, though there was a hint of knowing in that voice. "Well… I'll get us a table… okay?" There was no response.
Draco was in the back of the library, searching for books in which they could use for information on their essays. As he was, he didn't speak nor glance back at Harry to glimpse at which table it was. He was hurting. Hurting let to depression. Depression led to anger. Anger led to his usually controlled temper; only his temper flared at the present moment.
It wasn't hard to guess what caused all these emotions. Harry. Harry and his bloody intent on keeping Draco from showing any sort of affection. So maybe the boy didn't have quite the same feelings as Draco did? It didn't mean he had to announce it in his face; right when he was feeling in the better of moods. But… why couldn't Harry understand? Draco was trying so hard and…
It just wasn't working.
Boring his eyes onto the book titles and running his fingers along the spines; he struggled desperately to keep his mind on homework.
Harry, on the other hand, was sitting down at an easily found table near one of the corners of the library. He had taken out his quill, parchment, and ink so that he could bring himself to concentrate and start on at least one paragraph of the knowledge he already had.
Back on the other side of the room, Draco had piled at least three books underneath his arm already. He figured that was enough text to begin with, so he slowly started making his way back over to Harry through the several other shelves. The anger was deepening with each step, and he found that he was trying so hard to tame it that he was starting to shake again. This was a habit he was beginning to really loathe.
Suddenly, the books slipped from his grasp while he was walking down one of the narrow rows. They made a loud, echoing noise throughout the library when they hit the floor, and that seemed to be the time for Draco to snap. He had jumped considerably at the sound, and usually Draco wasn't one to be scared so easily. Not before he had been obsessing over Harry…
"Bloody fucking hell, what else can go wrong?" He cursed darkly, bending down to take the books back into his arms. The pages were bent, having landed strewn upside down, and it appeared that the only thing these books wanted was to torture him more. "First the rumor, then Harry, then Harry's bloody fright of me…" His rambling soon transformed into a violent collecting of the library books. He nearly shoved them all on top of each other with the same loud sound they had made with the impact to the floor.
"Dammit! What the hell is wrong with these fucking things!" Draco was trying frantically to flatten a creased page; all the while speaking in a string of rude words. He knew that the librarian would get on his case if he didn't fix these books as quickly as possible.
Only two more attempts were made before he gave up and threw one of the books clear across the row he was standing in; the book landing with a hard thud against another shelf. Draco wasn't going to screw around with a stupid book just to make someone else happy. What was the point!
He struggled with the other books he had dropped onto the floor, which he had dropped again in his urge to throw the other book, and he soon felt his eyes starting to burn. This had to be a breakdown… he never felt this way before. A cry of anger, or maybe it was a choked sob, left his lips as he became unbelievably impatient with everything he was trying to do. And it was all over something as simple as picking up books from the floor!
"I can't believe this!" Draco's last words were louder, more choked than before. He quit the simple task entirely after another minute, and instead sank to the floor. His hands were shaking terribly now, and he couldn't even keep them still enough to push the straying blonde strands away from his face.
Apparently, and fortunately, the librarian didn't seem to be present to find him like this. She would've been running over as fast as she could in order to see what happened to her precious books by now.
However, it was worse to have Harry find him like this. Draco's back was leaning against a bookcase, one leg stretched out and the other brought up to his chest. One of his shaking arms was laying on that knee, his face buried inside of it. The other hand was trying to sort through his hair, as if it would assist in calming him. And when Harry finally peeked around the corner of another bookcase to see what all the noise was about, the hand had moved from Draco's hair to rest on the other knee. It had been brought up to his chest beside the other. No one, and he had been glad for that, had seen him look so miserable before, and that was only because he never had felt this miserable.
"…Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly; cautiously, and his eyes caught sight of the books thrown on the floor. His emerald gaze soon traveled back up to the distraught-- No, very distraught -- Slytherin, who still had his head buried in his arms; his body shaking. "Are you alright?"
"Of course I'm not alright!" Draco snapped harshly, his voice forced to merely cover up his need to start crying.
"What happened?" Harry asked hesitantly. He took a few steps closer to Draco, so that he was standing only a few feet away from the side of the other boy.
"Nothing."
"I could hear you with these books all the way from where I was sitting. It couldn't have been nothing." And you're shaking uncontrollably like someone who's just lost it. Are you crying, Malfoy? Harry thought to himself, wishing he could ask, but not daring to bring it up.
"You wouldn't care. You're just fucking Harry Potter. The last thing you'd want to do is save me, so save yourself from wasting my time and leave me the fuck alone."
"Wha--" Harry started; his expression hurt. Even though Draco wasn't paying any heed to what he was saying, owing to his temper, the Slytherin still knew that his words were most likely cold. "I wasn't planning on saving you from anything." The Gryffindor's tone was hard now; void of emotion, except for the obvious irritation.
"Then leave!" Draco shouted as he finally looked up at Harry. It was clearly a furious glare being shot in the Gryffindor's direction, but Harry noticed that Draco's eyes were red around the edges. There weren't any tears, but he was sure that they were close to being shed.
"I…" Harry stood there, now unsure of what to do. His angry tone was shot down and replaced with the same unease. "… I'm sorry Malfoy."
"Sorry! What the hell is that supposed to do to help me?" Draco kept that glare locked on Harry, daring him to speak again.
"For… doing this to you… and…" The words came out slow and were carefully picked over. Draco quickly came to stand during the time Harry was taking to try and find an answer to his question.
"Well, you know what? What's the point anymore? It's my fault for waiting so long before letting you know what my problem with you is. So, of course, you have nothing to be sorry for." Draco crossed his arms over his chest as he stood there, trying to look as composed as he could. It wasn't working.
"But, Malfoy, I--"
"Whatever you have to say; save it for someone who cares. I'm through with caring." Draco winced. What was he doing? He was a nervous, terrified, fuming wreck, whose words were only geared by his temper. He didn't really mean these things. He'd never stop feeling for Harry, even now.
Harry stared at him then, his eyes searching Draco's and his expression unreadable. For several minutes, it felt like, they stood there like this.
Then Harry broke the silence and took a step forward. They weren't too far apart now… maybe enough to think that Harry would be getting a bit uncomfortable.
"Malfoy… can you listen to me just this once?" He asked quietly; almost as if he were trying to calm and soothe Draco. But Draco only stood there, glaring blankly at the boy in front of him. "I said I was sorry, and I meant it."
And before Draco could bite back with another rage-induced comeback, the most unexpected thing happened. Harry tentatively brought up a warm hand to rest on the side of Draco's cheek, his thumb tracing lightly over his skin, and his eyes still an unmoving gaze. And as Draco froze where he was standing, his heart beginning to beat faster in his chest, Harry leaned in to press his lips gently onto the trembling Slytherin's own.