A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

Word Count: 452

"I love you," Draco stated, leaning against the wall. Harry stared at him for a moment before laughing. They had both returned for their seventh year, Harry because he'd missed and Draco because he wanted the grades. He still wanted to have something to show for his time at Hogwarts, something more than a ashy looking Dark Mark on his arm and a reputation he wasn't proud of.

"Really?" Harry asked, studying Draco, as if expecting him to burst out laughing at the idea of such a stupid statement. It wasn't like Harry didn't return the emotion. He'd never admit though. He and Draco were on different sides of things. Harry really didn't believe Draco could really change.

"Really! I do love you, Potter. I love you so much that I hate you," he added, giving Harry a smirk. Harry rolled his green eyes. He wasn't surprised Malfoy was just teasing him. Well, two could play at that game.

"Thin line," Harry muttered.

"What was that, Potter?"

"Something Hermione says all the time. That there's a thin line between love and hate," Harry replied. Draco tilted his head, seeming to think about that phrase for a moment.

"I did hate you, in the beginning. You were a right snot."

"You were a bigoted brat who was constantly running to your daddy for everything," Harry replied.

"Yeah, well, we both see how well that worked out for me."

"Father in jail for being an evil git, yup, worked out perfectly for you, didn't it Malfoy?"

"And this is why I hate you."

"You said you loved me," Harry commented.

"I also said I hated you."

"Can't be both, Malfoy. You either hate or love me, maybe you should come find me once you've made up your mind?" Harry suggested, taking a step down the corridor.

"Maybe I have made it up?"

"Then prove it," Harry stated, turning to face Draco. Their faces almost touching. Draco stared into Harry's eyes. He looked down at the grey stone floor.

"What's the matter, Malfoy, afraid to put your lips where your words are?" Harry asked, wishing Draco had called his bluff. He could have made the first move, but no, there was some pleasure in watching Draco flounder.

"No, I already said I hate you, Potter," Draco stated, turning on his heels. "And if I kissed you, it wouldn't matter, I'd just be proving you right, or wrong, or whatever. We're not... we can't be... We're not friends, Potter. I need to go. I'm late for class," Draco stuttered before walking down the corridor, leaving Harry wondering if they were anything, if Draco really did love him like that, or if he was just fooling himself.