It would have been such a refreshing day, if Harry had not been forced to practice Quidditch very early in the morning, and thus eat nothing but a piece of toast. That might have been why he felt so light-headed, but he'd endured worse (he was the Boy Who Lived, what do you expect?). The lightheadedness might have simply been nerves, but Quidditch was stressful. It wasn't all glamor and awesome moves. His father had had to work hard for that permanently windswept hair. Today promised to be awful, which all added up to Harry feeling empty and being alone. Screw his family; they weren't important! Harry wanted love. Despite having the most fangirls of any student except Cedric, Harry was horribly alone. Sure, every five seconds girls giggled and waved at him with a suggestive smile, and he had really great friends, but he was horribly lonely and of course his life was full of despair. OF COURSE. In fact, it would have probably have been heresy to suggest otherwise, or to focus on what he did have. The most reasonable thing to do was to shove him with someone he loathed and hope for the best, right? Suddenly, Harry felt a strange urge to talk to Malfoy. He strode over to the stands, where Malfoy happened to be sitting.
"Hey, Malfoy? Wanna be my boyfriend?"
Malfoy spewed the pumpkin juice he was drinking all over the stands, and a very grossed out Pansy Parkinson. "Potter, just because you're hopelessly out of character doesn't mean that I am as well," he sneered, leaving poor, poor Harry to rot and become even more cliched- er, emo. So, he immediately cut himself, overwhelmed by angst and hopelessness and UNREQUITED LOVE. He cut himself so much that he passed out from blood loss, which caused Malfoy to realize suddenly that he loved Harry passionately (in a friendly way) and regretted being mean to him and wanted to be best friends. "HARRY! " he screamed and wrapped his arms around Harry, then shook him extremely roughly, which caused Harry to awaken.
"Oh Malfoy! I've hated you so much but today I realized that love and hate are extremely close together!" Harry had tears glimmering in his green eyes, in a sentence that sounded very much like Rita Skeeter had written it. "Thank you for saving me."
"Harry, I'm sorry. I rescued you and I'm very out of character but I don't love you at all." He stared sorrowfully into amazing green eyes. Harry gazed at his grey pale ones and felt his heart break. It broke so much that he regained some sense, and was very disgusted, but in-character at last.
"What the-? Get your hands off me, Malfoy!" He snarled and jumped up, glaring at the pale-haired boy. Resisting the urge to hex Malfoy into oblivion, he marched away.
"We were worried about you, Harry," chorused Fred in what Harry was relieved to find was sarcasm.
"Yeah Harry, that Malfoy is dangerous," added George, grinning. Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, hurtling towards the blue of the sky in some ecstasy unknown to him. That's when he realized it: his love for Quidditch was so strong, why shouldn't he love the very thing that allowed him to play that sport, from a person he cared about very much? He'd been in love with his enemy, but this made so much more sense. Smiling, he looked down at his broom. He gripped it tighter, giving it a friendly squeeze, looked at the familiar Firebolt emblazoned on its side. It gleamed in the sunlight coming from between the puffy clouds, and went higher, higher, higher, until the pitch was only a speck, a distant memory. It was cold up here, however, and Harry paled and used one hand to wipe his frosted glasses. He then realized that it was pointless to be up here, and he might as well go back down. With a sigh, he directed the beloved broom downwards, giving it a small kiss as he landed. He stroked it lovingly, but stopped when he noticed that everyone was giving him extremely weird looks. Oh well, he thought. You can't judge true love.
Author's Note: Okay, I know the Harry/Draco thing was weird, but that was part of the parody. Don't judge the parody! It was to show the out of character standards some authors live up to, making their stories odd and mushy. Please review... Thanks for reading!