Harry wasn't feeling very well. In fact, he was feeling quite horrible. It might have had something to do with the fact that everyone he loved seemed to be dying, but Harry was quite sure it had more to do with the six pieces of pie he ate for dessert. Why, you may ask, had he eaten so many pieces of pie? Well, you see, Ron had told him that there was no way he could eat that many pieces of pie, and Harry, being Harry, couldn't turn down such a dare. So, there he was, groaning in pain and making his way through the corridors, trying to somehow make it to the dorm without dying. It was then that he was interrupted by an upheaval of activity, quite literally actually.

Oh god, there he was. Moaning like an idiot and stumbling through the corridors. Draco sneered, very sure he really didn't want to see said person at that moment. It wasn't just because he hated him; it was also because of the noises Harry was making, because really, when someone is making noises quite like that, sometimes it's just better not to know.

"Jeez, Potter, I didn't realize you were pregnant." Draco had come to stand near Harry, and it was at that exact moment that Harry's stomach decided to rid itself of its contents, all over Draco.

There is rarely a time in ones life when one is able to tell one's enemy that their face makes you want to throw up and actually mean it; this was one of those times. Draco, who had an amazingly witty sense of humour, found the situation quite humorous. He suppressed his laughter though, because laughing at someone in such a sorry state, even one's enemy, was just plain rude, and rude, Draco was not. Narcissistic, unmerciful and plain cruel he may be, but never rude.

The sorry state that Harry was in was crumpled up on the floor beside his own barf, completely passed out. Draco had never seen a more sad sight. In fact, it was so sad, he actually felt himself feeling the slightest bit of pity for Harry, just a little though, because most of what he was feeling was amusement. Anyone would have to admit that someone stupid enough to eat that much pie pretty much deserved whatever they got. His amusement, however, passed when he noticed that he had quite a predicament. He could take Harry somewhere more suitable, such as to Madam Pomfrey, or he could leave him. After a quick moment of thought, Draco yawned deeply, stretching his arms upwards in a fit of weariness. Stepping over Harry, Draco headed toward his dorm.

About five steps later he paused and turned back to glance at the unmoving body. Everyone was still eating supper, as Harry had left right after eating dessert (which he ate before anything else). As such, it would only be a little while before Harry's friends poured out ready to peel him off the floor and take him to their dorm. Mind you, at the same time his friends came out of the Great Hall, so would the rest of the entire student body, which, on a whole, was a lot of people. Now as much as Draco greatly disliked Harry, maybe even hated him, he did not wish him to be smothered and trampled to death. That itself was a little bit of a daunting way to die, and he definitely didn't want that on his conscience. If he wanted to do something dreadfully sneaky and devious he could just kill Harry now while he was unconscious, but the whole leaving him to be trampled to death was a little much.

Mind you, it would be nice to not have to listen to the prat…Draco mentally slapped himself. There was nothing evil in killing someone accidentally. Would the Dark Lord be impressed when he found out that Draco had left Harry to die? No, he would not. He would, however, be impressed when Draco pulled off a particularly clever plan involving deviously thought out actions and manipulative stabbing in the back. And with that thought, Draco let out a huge sigh and began to scoop Harry into his arms. Well, he sort of just picked up Harry's arms, and pretty much just dragged him to the hospital wing, but saying he scooped him up into his arms sounded so much more….manly.

He soon found the hospital wing empty of anyone and sighed yet again. He dragged Harry right beside a bed. Biting his lip, he looked down upon the heap of limbs and almost wished he'd left Harry to die for the sole reason that actually getting him onto the bed would be unnecessarily hard. Draco scrunched up his nose at that thought. That definitely sounded very wrong. After a moment of thought he bent down and grabbed Harry's arms again and pulled him up into an almost standing position with Harry leaning against him. Draco put his arms around Harry's waist and sort of flopped him onto the bed. He shifted around a bit and soon found himself and Harry situated horizontally on the bed.

Draco had every intention of getting off of Harry. However, now that he was lying on top of Harry, and his legs had somehow managed to get in between Harry's, he found that he felt oh so suddenly sleepy. Harry was, after all, surprisingly soft, and very comfortable. Even so, Draco still had every intention of getting off of Harry, but, at the exact moment he began to get off of him, he passed out. His head landed slowly and comfortably on Harry's chest and the boys lay there, for all the world looking like they'd done it a million times. Which, of course, they had, even if they hadn't known it at the time.