Sadly, I am not J.K. Rowling. She, at least has met Daniel Radcliffe, something I can barely manage in my dreams. it's a lovely thought, though. Given that i am not that brilliant woman (if you don't count the epilogue), it can be safely assumed i am making no money here.
"So what are we pretending to fight about today?" he asked, grinding Harry's shoulder into the cold stone wall. "Bloodstatus, House loyalties, or maybe the weather for a change. I do so love variety, you know."
"Fuck off, Malfoy. WE are not pretending ANYTHING. You are a git and I am walking away." He wrenched himself loose and started down the hallway only to pause at his companion's almost whispered words.
"I'm sorry."
"You're what, now?!" Harry turned to face Draco, dark fringe shadowing his eyes.
"What do you want me to say, Potter, I'm sorry I kissed you? I'm not!" The blond huffed angrily at Harry's frown. "I'm sorry that Smith saw it and broke off with you. But hell, Potter, he's as close to dating Draco Malfoy as you can get without dating Draco Malfoy! He took a moderate resemblance and charmed his hair, nose and even his twice damned TEETH to look more like mine. Why wouldn't I think you wanted me?"
Harry laughed bitterly. "The closest I can get to dating you without dating you is a Hufflepuff? Didn't know you had it in you, Malfoy."
"Oh what would you know, Potter? You don't know me. Sure, you look down at me from the pedestal they put their precious little hero on, but you don't know who I am. You have a few insignificant facts that you've turned into a whole, incredibly shallow, person."
"Like you know me any better, you snobby little daddy's boy!" Harry's cheeks flushed as he realized just how close they were.
Draco took a deep breath and pushed down the anger that threatened to boil over. "But I do," he said quietly, his sudden calm stilling the green- eyed boy. "I know you better than anyone. I know you can't function until you've had breakfast, and even then it's close until lunch. You like grape jelly but will hold out for strawberry jam if there's even a rumor of it on the table. You nibble on the end of your quill when you're unsure of an answer. There is always a chocolate frog at the bottom of your bag, under the textbooks and quidditch strategies, which you like to create but will never implement. You love your friends but you distance yourself so they can form an identity as a couple, separate from the trio dynamic. When you're angry you do laps around the lake and yell but when you're depressed you paste on a smile that never reaches your eyes until you crack, at which point your magic gets a little crazy. Is any of this familiar to you at all?"
Harry's jaw had long since dropped and now he stared in shock and what Draco could only hope was fascination.
"How do you know all of this?" Harry's quiet voice broke in. "How do you know all of these things that even I am barely aware of?"
"I see you. All the time, I see you. So what if you're their hero? What do I care about heroes? You're a person too, Potter, and nobody knows it but me. Even your friends worship you, the Great Harry Potter. You're seventeen, for fuck's sake. But you have to save the whole world and all the jerks in it who can't even see you."
"Isn't that what you want, Malfoy? You want me to save you from your father's fate. Keep you out of Azkaban. Maybe get the dementors off your back?"
"I just want you, okay? I figure we're probably not going to walk away from this war. Might as well live now. I want you while we're both still alive enough to enjoy it."
Harry thought for a moment, then grinned. "I'm beginning to see the Hufflepuff resemblance."