"You know, Draco Malfoy," he said, advancing on him and pointing at his nose in a threatening manner. "For someone so goddamn self-sacrificing, you are a self-rightous conceited bastard. Yeah, you do things other people wouldn't. You feed orphans. You donate to the poor. You're an all around bright-as-fuck star of a saint. But you know what? That's a stupid way to spend your life."
"Potter, don't act like you know me. I'm living a life. I have a beautiful wife and two children. Twins. Russel and Raven. I wanted to name them Russel and Crow, but Tasha wouldn't let me. Yeah, I donate money. What the hell else am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know. How about genuinely caring for someone? How about that?"
"What, like you care about people? If Voldemort wasn't so stuck up with killing you you wouldn't lay a finger on him. You'd be running and cowering just like everyone else. You're nothing special, Potter. You're just another peg."
"You're getting off topic. You're attacking me and everything I'm saying, just like you always do. You don't listen. You never just listen. You always have to have something to say. You always have to be the one worse-off. I don't know if you've noticed, Malfoy, but my life? It kind of sucks. Actually it really sucks. Yeah, I'm not going to lie. If I wasn't so personally involved I couldn't do a lot of the things I do. But I don't go off on a soapbox preteding that I'm immaculate and pristine and oh so spotlessly perfect. I'm a right ball of fuckup sprinkled with shit and pepper. I'm aware of that. I don't go off trying to pass it off as self-sacriment"
"Yeah. Well. I guess that makes you better than me, doesn't it?"
"You're doing it again! Not everything is about YOU, Malfoy!"
"Yeah, okay," Draco said slowly. "So maybe you're right. Maybe I'm ridiculously selfish and manipulative. So, now what? Any suggestions on how I am to remedy that?" Harry glared at him.
"Here's one," he said, backing up. "Blow it out your ass."
Harry left the office, and Draco never saw him again. He did, however, send him one or two "I'm sorry" checks every so many months, just out of the goodness of his heart. That's what Harry really needed, of course. A few hundred pound notes and a constant agonizing reminder of the self and false titled "romance". He didn't need Draco. He didn't need anyone.