Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
The urge strikes him somewhat randomly. The only constant is that it happens when they're in bed. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes at night, and occasionally on one side or the other of their afternoon nap, Draco is struck by the need to coddle Harry. To hold him and show him that every part of him is appreciated. Because it only seems right to let someone know that you wake up every morning grateful for their existence and their choice to be in your life.
In the minutes before falling asleep Saturday afternoon, Draco rolls Harry onto his chest and strokes his hair. Rubs his back. Little touches for big thoughts. Because as Harry drifts off, Draco revels in his luck. He marvels at the fact that someone like Harry chose him.
All his past doings aside (and, yes, he knows there are quite a few doings to put aside), he doesn't think himself particularly noteworthy. His life before the war was about power, and it's one thing to gain fame for your riches and powers of coercion, but quite another to be known for your charming personality (or less-than-charming, as the case may have been).
Deciding who he wanted to be when all was said and done was difficult. He was friendless, though thankfully not penniless. Finding work had been hard. Finding someone to make the loneliness go away had been harder still. But flying in the face of all the sense Draco could muster, Harry had chosen him.
It wasn't all chocolates and roses (though Draco didn't see how they could get too much closer to it). They weren't perfect people, but they were perfect for each other. When they fought, they fought fair. Sometimes Draco couldn't find the words for his feelings and had to have them dragged out of him, but at least Harry cared enough to try and to listen. He was smart and funny and nice and damned cute on top of it. Draco closes his eyes, beginning to feel overwhelmed by his impossible good fortune just as his musings are interrupted by a drowsy mumble.
"You stopped the pre-nap petting," says the voice from his ribcage.
Draco sighs. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
"Us."
Draco feels Harry's smile as he says, "You say that every time you do this."
"And yet you keep asking every time I do this," Draco responds drily.
"What about us?"
"If you must know, I'm preparing my speech for when they name me keynote speaker for Harry Potter Appreciation Day," Draco explains.
Harry's head shoots up. He stares at Draco, eyes frantic. "Please tell me that's not a real thing," he pleaded.
Draco shakes with laughter. "No," he manages through giggles. "But your face was priceless."
Harry scowls and puts his head back down as he attempts his nap a second time.
Draco just smiles. Organized celebration or not, for him, every day is Harry Potter Appreciation Day.