How Draco Defeated Harry Potter

Summary: Sometimes the simplest requests can stupefy us all.

They were at it again.

"Incendio!"

Their satchels and books were scattered across the hall, accompanied among them were the gasps and startled looks of their peers who just stood about, gaping on as the two faced off.

"Expelliarmas!"

And, oh look, there goes his wand. Right out of his hand. Over to Potter. Bloody hell, Draco swore to himself.

"I've had it with your insults, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed, keeping his wand leveled at the blond. "One more word about Ginny or her family and I'll hex you so bad your mum won't even recognize you!"

Draco started to mumble to himself, "At least I have a-"

Harry's eyes narrowed further, green passion alight within them. "What was that!"

Draco clamped his mouth shut, thinking he ought to change tactics if he wanted to survive this, especially when his wand was otherwise indisposed. Though he couldn't help the snort that came with his next thought.

Potter had defeated the Dark Lord with as much patience and grace as one could, and here he was standing before Draco, hot-headed and about ready to burst from all the tension that seemed to have congealed in his shoulders.

The pureblood almost smiled wistfully to himself. Apparently not even a cataclysmic event such as the War could change the dynamic between the two rivals...

The two best rivals.

Huh. Perhaps it was time to change things up a gander bit. After all, they'd known each other nearly 8 years, been through a war and found an understanding- as volatile as it was- somewhere along the line... Perhaps the next step ought to be taken.

"-And if you think I'll let-l" Harry was still tirading.

The blond nodded to himself in resolution. Yep, this was an ideal time to do this.

"Harry."

"W-What?" the Gryffindor stammered, blinking rapidly, not willing to believe his name was just uttered by his rival.

"Draco," the Slytherin bowed a bit.

"What?" Harry asked again, confused.

"My name-"

"I know what your name is, Malfoy!"

Malfoy shook his head. "No, call me Draco."

Silence overtook the entire corridor as the Defeater of the Dark Lord stared.

And stared.

Harry Potter felt the tension that had been weighing heavily on his shoulders suddenly burst at what Mal- ... Draco... had just said. What the hell was happening with the world? Had everyone gone loony?

And he did the only thing he could in his overwhelmed situation. He fell to his knees in utter exhaust.

Draco looked at the Gryffindor on the ground, perplexed.

"Did I ask too early?"

A/N: Based on a quote ("Did I ask too early?") from a fic... I can't remember now.