I Would Follow You Anywhere

The library was quiet in a soothing, comforting way. It was quiet and dark, and Draco welcomed both the silence and the dim lighting. It would make it harder for other students to shout things at him if they could not find him, and even if they did, Madam Pince's presence and lack of patience for noise would prevent anyone's screaming at him. While the eighth-years had accepted Draco's involvement with Harry Potter largely without incident, the rest of the school had yet to be as understanding. When he was in Harry's company, the ones that disapproved mostly kept it at glares and loud whispers.

But when the brunet was not around, the students became much bolder, knowing that Draco was only allowed back at Hogwarts on special conditions, knowing that he would be thrown out the instant he violated the rules of those conditions, and attacking other students was, unfortunately, number one on the list.

He had come so very close to breaking that rule only moments ago, Draco barely managing to escape the gaggle of fourth-year girls that had surrounded him out of nowhere, sobbing that evil Death Eater scum did not belong with their Harry Potter. Harry was too good for Slytherin dirt such as Draco, and the Saviour would never of his own free will date the blond, which was when the girls had begun demanding that he remove whatever spell or potion it was that he had Harry under.

That was the point at which Draco knew he had to leave, before he decided to show them a few of the nastier spells his deranged aunt had taught him. Hexing a group of fourteen-year-old girls would most definitely not be looked kindly upon, by either McGonagall or the Wizengamot. Unfortunately for Draco, he would not be able to curse the wretched brats to within an inch of their pathetic existences.

Reminding himself that Harry did not feel the same way as those girls and that the brunet did not see Draco as undeserving Death Eater filth, he had fixed the girls with his special number-one most vicious glare, an expression that made all of them take a few hasty steps backward, at which point Draco was able to calmly stride away, despite the fact that his heart was hammering and he felt nearly dizzy with both the force of his own anger and the hot sweep of self-doubt rushing through his veins.

What if the girls were right and he truly did not deserve Harry Potter? Surely the universe would not allow him to hold onto the Gryffindor if he really was undeserving of him. Harry had done so much good in his life that the universe could only reward him with good; Draco had never been "good".

And he would never be good. He was the son of Lucius Malfoy. He had had the Dark Mark since he was sixteen. He had once actively referred to Harry's friends as Mudbloods and dirt-poor blood traitors.

How could Harry just move past that? How could he just forget about their past so easily? How could he not still hate Draco? After all, everybody else did. Hatred for Draco seemed to be its own right of passage amongst the Hogwarts students.

Strolling past the rows of darkened bookshelves, he made his way to a table in the back, one hidden in a particularly shadowy nook of the library. Sinking into a chair in the darkest corner of the table, he lowered his forehead to rest against the cool wood of the desktop. It was in moments like this that he truly missed Pansy. She would have cut those younger girls to shreds with her endearing viciousness. Draco should have been able to slice them apart just as much with his own similar form of bitchy—but still charming—superiority, but he had not trusted himself to speak without uttering a well-intended Crucio at every single one of the ignorant brats.

Why did everyone in the world feel the need to involve themselves in both his and Harry's lives? Why weren't they allowed to date each other like normal people? Why was everyone always trying to make Draco feel even worse about himself? Would he ever be deemed good enough to be with the Chosen One?

Would he ever feel good enough to be with the Chosen One?

As warm arms wrapped around him from behind and familiar lips pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck, he wondered if he had the power to summon Harry just by thinking—obsessively—about him. He sincerely hoped so—it would be a power he would be more than okay with possessing.

"What are you doing hidden all the way back here?"

Fuck. Of course Harry would know he was hiding. Was Draco really that transparent with his intentions? Or did Harry simply know him too well?

"I'm not hiding," Draco answered, forehead still resting atop the empty table as he spoke down to the floor. "It's a library, Potter. I'm studying."

"Clearly." Harry's tone was amused and Draco sat up in his chair to glare half-heartedly at him.

"I'm simply pondering which subject to study first, is all."

A fond smile was directed at him as Harry hopped up onto the table and slid directly in front of Draco, planting both feet on the outside of Draco's thighs, right on the edges of the wide wooden chair the blond was sitting in. "Do you have any idea how adorable you are?" He was gazing down at Draco in a way that made the blond shiver, but not unpleasantly.

His words, on the other hand, made Draco's eyes narrow. "I suggest trying another adjective if you would like to remain in my good graces, Potter," he warned threateningly. It was a threat that went unheeded.

"You're absolutely adorable." Harry's smile widened and Draco felt his heart stumble and skip a beat.

That word again, however, was not something Draco could simply overlook. "Potter," he growled, but the other teen was already speaking over him and ignoring the blond's glare.

"In fact, you might just be the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Fucking hell, Potter!" Draco exploded, rising from the wooden chair and shoving it roughly away from himself before lunging at the infuriating boy sitting on the table in front of him.

Harry seemed surprised when Draco's mouth suddenly attached itself roughly to his own, but he seemed to get over the shock quickly enough as he began to respond to the contact with enthusiasm. Draco stood above Harry, the brunet still sat perched on the shadowed desktop. Leaning down into him, he seized control of the kiss, reaching down to grip Harry's hips tightly and pull him to the very edge of the table, closer into Draco's own body.

Harry allowed himself to be dragged closer without a fight, cupping Draco's jaw gently as he sighed. "I missed you," he murmured, stroking Draco's cheek with soft fingers.

The words caused a warmth to spread through Draco's body, starting at his hair and melting along his nerves until even his toes felt heated and were tingling pleasantly. All of his earlier doubts and insecurities were slowly fading away beneath Harry's soft caresses. Of course Harry did not view him in the same light as those idiotic girls; Harry truly cared for him. He did not think of Draco as Death Eater scum or undeserving of the Gryffindor's affections. He did not see Draco as pathetic or weak. Unlike so many at the school, he did not still think of Draco as Voldemort's bitch.

And he wasn't anymore. Draco now belonged solely to Harry.

Forgetting his previous annoyance with the brunet, Draco smiled and kissed him again. "I missed you too."

"You better have." Harry kissed along his jaw lightly, tilting Draco's head to give his lips better access to the blond's throat.

"So much," Draco breathed, fingers tightening around the other boy's hips.

"So, it wasn't me you were hiding from, then?"

The question made Draco pause, but Harry's lips did not stop their movement over the sensitive flesh of his neck. "Of course not," he answered with a small moan. "Why would I and when have I ever been able to successfully hide from you?"

A warm laugh was huffed over the skin just beneath Draco's jaw, spreading gooseflesh over his entire body like ripples spreading across the surface of a still pond.

"True, I suppose," Harry whispered, breath tickling in tantalizing murmurs across Draco's throat. "So, did you really come here to study? Or is it possible to…persuade you to focus on other things?"

"Think you're so irresistible, do you?" But the question was rhetorical and Draco could tell by Potter's smile that he already knew he had won. When it came to Harry Potter, the blond seemed unable to deny him anything.

"Only to Slytherins," Harry quipped, pressing a lingering kiss to Draco's collarbone. His hands slipped beneath Draco's robes to lovingly caress his chest over the starched white shirt the blond was beginning to resent having put on.

Swallowing heavily, Draco fought back a groan as he nodded a shaky agreement. "I suppose I can be…persuaded," he panted, but immediately regretted his words when Harry gently pushed him back in order to stand up.

"Come on, then," he said, holding out one hand for Draco to take.

Without hesitation, Draco slid his palm into Harry's and squeezed. "And where are we going?"

"Somewhere else," was the only answer he received before Harry began tugging him toward the exit.

Grinning widely and feeling tonnes better than he had when he had first arrived at the library, Draco allowed himself to be pulled from the maze of bookshelves and down the corridor, not sure where they were going and unable to bring himself to care. He trusted Harry.

He would follow him anywhere.