Harry tilted his head curiously at that question, letting Draco stay close to him. He was glad that Draco was protective and worried; it spoke volumes for both of them. He smiled softly. "Why would you ask that of me, Draco? You know me, all too well. You know my beliefs, how I work. Furthermore, you know...how I feel about different situations. And you sure as hell know what happens when someone whom I love gets hurt or is in harm's way." Harry would be overprotective as he always was. If anyone, even for a second, didn't want to have anything to do with him, then Harry was going to stand in his way.
He closed his eyes, lowering his head briefly, a worried look on his features. It seemed like fate would always entwine him with Voldemort's life, or whatever kind of life it was. Or wasn't, rather. Harry had no such luck usually dealing with these things. He wanted to be done with Voldemort, done with the war. "Is it wrong of me to wish that he does do things differently so that I'm just an average fighter in whatever battle might come, rather than the Boy Who Lived?"