And finally here was the moment we had all been waiting for: the Emo Moment!

Harry had spent the last ten minutes on one of the moving staircases, steadily spiraling down into the dark abyss of his mind. All he really wanted to do was help people, keep them safe. But how could he do that if he couldn't protect them from himself? Why did it always have to be him? It wasn't like there weren't other people. This could have happened to anyone, anyone. And yet, it had to be him. And just when things were getting back to normal, here came a new set of powers to get used to. Along with that came a whole new set of helplessness that he didn't really enjoy. What would happen if someone else insulted him like that? All he would be able to do is stand back and watch as a…a monster sucked out a student's life or whatever it was Stars were supposed to do. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on his legs as a tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. I'm a danger to everyone.

Draco had awoken by this time and, since Madame Pomfrey didn't like him all that greatly, he was kicked out with a warning to rest. Therefore, he went to find the boy who had brought this plague of unconciousness to him. Without thinking, he brought himself to the staircase where he was stopped by a mop of red. "Hello, Weasel," he sneered.

"Malfoy." Ron greeted him with a nod of his head. As Harry's best friend it was his job to keep him protected from scum like Malfoy. Just the joy of being a friend. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm thinking that I'm talking to a stupid, poop freckled slob when I should be trying to find Potter," he replied, indignant that he had to talk to this idiot.

At the sound of his name Harry looked up, quickly finding the cause of the commotion. He groaned silently. 'What are you doing now Ron?'

The redhead folded his arms and glared at the blond. "Why are you trying to find him, you pompous blond git?"

"I need to so we can go back to our room, it appears I've gone and forgotten the password," he said in a monotone...tone.

"What? Your room? As in both of you!?" The lunacy of the idea was slowly making Ron's brain overheat and soon civilized activity would be lost on the young man.

Uh-oh. There was going to be a fight, he could tell. And it wasn't that far off. Not to mention the fact that they were going to fight about him. He couldn't let that happen. Harry stood and turned to face them. "He's telling the truth, Ron," he said softly. "We have to share a room now."

Draco looked at Ron, smugly crossing his arms.

He glared at Malfoy. "Okay. But...why?"

"You remember that thing about how Draco has this uncontrollable urge to bow to me?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, we have to be friends so he can stop it."

Ron laughed and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Oh, Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. You know he's just faking that. Trying to cause trouble or something."

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped forward. "You think I would stoop that low just to have a little fun with Potter's head?" he asked, his voice sharp and accusing. "Were you dropped on your head when you were born or were you just born that stupid?"

"Draco..." Harry said warningly.

"Yeah, Ferret, I think you would! You've done nothing but terrorize us our entire time at Hogwarts, why should this change anything?"

"Because unlike you, I still have my standards. If I wanted to torment you, why would I embarrass myself?" he asked, stepping back staggeringly as he ignored Harry's warning.

"Both of you, stop it!" Even before this bizarre transformation, Harry wasn't one to be ignored. And now that he had some sort of authority... Wait. Authority?

"I don't know, Malfoy! Why would I care what goes on in that twisted little head of yours?" He rounded on Harry, eyes pleading for all of this to just be some kind of sick joke. "Harry, why are you going along with this? It's all some kind of setup."

"Oh yes, it's a set up that I thought cleverly of with the brilliant minded Crabbe and Goyle beside me. Not to mention I PLANNED on the possibility of loosing my family fortune along with my own name," he said growling. "You know, you think with a name like Weasel you'd be more cunning, but you're just as stupid as any other Gryffindor and a disgrace to the wizarding world; almost as bad as your father," he hissed, ignoring the pain of ignoring Harry.

A line had been crossed. Harry suddenly found the banister behind him very interesting and went over to it to study the grain in the wood. Gosh, that's some pretty wood. Just beautiful.

Before he knew he was doing it, Ron's fist had first contact with Draco's face. The little bastard had insulted his family for too long! Now it was time for him to pay the price.

As Draco face was connected with Ron's fist he was sent to the floor. Before another one could come however, he felt another presence beside him.

"Blaise? What are you doing here?" Draco asked.

"Being sexy what do you think?" Blaise replied.

"No, I mean why are you here?" he reworded.

Blaise pondered a moment. "I guess because you needed help...plus I needed to ask you something about potions," he replied.

"Oh...carry on then," Draco said and lay there as Blaise stood more stiff and looked at Ron dead set in the eyes. "I'd recommend not doing that anymore," he warned.

"My fight's not with you, Zabini."

Harry decided to just watch; he was a little too emotionally frail to do any real fighting.

"I know," he said. "But I'm not letting you fight with Draco while he's in a weakened state of mind," he said. "So back off."

"Why don't you back off?" He shoved him square in the chest.

He shoved him right back. "Because you started it," he said calmly.

In his ever-so-lovingly violent way, he shoved him again and replied, "I intend on finishing it. He's corrupted my friend and I want him back."

He pushed him once again, except this time he lost his balance and sent both he and Ron tumbling to the floor. "You'll have to get through me then," he said, not moving.

Ron pushed away the other male and rushed at Draco, determined to beat him within an inch of his life.

Blaise grabbed his collar and pulled him away, therefore slamming him on the staircase but it didn't matter for when he turned they were, once again, in a certain position that suddenly clicked in Blaise's head and shortly after Ron's as they gazed at eachother slowly becoming more and more lidded with each moment.

((Also known as the Intimate Gaze™! Buy yours today!))

To say Harry was uncomfortable was an understatement. Was it him or weren't they just fighting a few seconds before? He inched away from them and held out a hand to Draco. "Let's get out of here," he mouthed.

"Right behind you," Draco replied and grasping his hand, got up like hadn't just gotten punched in the face and left the two before they could begin doing something he'd rather not see.

After they had gotten a safe distance away (as in, magically found their portrait even though McGonagall hadn't told them what it was), Harry looked at Malfoy, eyes wide once more. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

"I'm not sure, and I honestly don't want to be sure because then I might throw up," he admitted.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, that would be bad." Harry said the password to the portrait of a cow and quickly entered the room vaguely described as having muted shades of gold and silver. "Okay, how cliché are we going to get? Do we have to share one bed?"

"Who knows, I mean this isn't Dumbledore, McGonagall might have a little more sense," he said.

"Sense of humor, more like." With a growing dread Harry went to the only other door in the room and...yep. He knew it. He sighed. "I wish I weren't so damn psychic."

"I'll just sleep out here," he said, sitting on the sofa in the common room area.

"No, you won't." Why should Malfoy have to suffer? None of this was his fault.

Draco nodded in respect for his decision. "Very well," he said. He got up and went int the bathroom.

As soon as he was sure Draco was safely behind the door, Harry sat down heavily on the floor beside the surprisingly large bed, his head in his hands. He began to spiral again, completely blaming himself for everything that had happened. Even the blossoming bruise on Draco's cheek was his fault. As he fell deeper and deeper into despair he began to cry quietly, though he couldn't quiet the occasional sob or hiccup that escaped his lips.

Finally Draco slammed open the door, "What the hell is getting murdered that I ca-oh," he said, looking down to see the famous Harry Potter sobbing on the floor like a pansy. "Come on, Harry, get up and stop being a pussy," he said, turning to go back to go to where he was sleeping.

"Shut up, you little blonde bastard." Harry sniffed and quickly tried to dry his eyes to no avail. "I won't tolerate (hiccup) being talked to like that when I'm emotionally unstable."

"Oh come on! Snap out of it," Draco said, irritated. He rolled his eyes at the lack of reply and bent down so he was in front of him. "Stop being a little emotional prat, it's not flattering."

"I'm not trying to be flattering!" How dare he? How dare he, the insensitive little...what better word was there for 'bastard'? 'Git' was already used. "If you were like this, no matter how much I don't like you, I wouldn't treat you with such blatant disrespect."

"You call that disrespect?!" he said laughing. Finally Draco snapped, due to exhaustion and just plain irritability. He raised his hand up and smacked it across Harry's face, "Then this must go a whole new level with you!"

His lips formed a perfect 'O'. Did Draco just slap him? Once again his blood began to boil and something primal sang with the urge to fight back. "Did you just hit me?"

Draco stood up and walked away not bothering to answer his question. "Go to sleep, little snivvling sobstory," he said, then stopped as something painful just riled through him. He'd just slapped Harry! Oh Merlin. He felt his stomach begin to flutter as his hands began to shake. The tremors rose to his head and it took on a right powerful headache which made him wince and fall to the ground, curling into a fetal position.

Though anger still thrummed under his skin, it was pierced with concern for the Slytherin. "Draco? Draco!" He ran to his side and touched him gently on the shoulder.

He hissed at the touch and backed away. "I'm sorry," he pleaded, "I'm sorry for hurting you, disrespecting you, please forgive me, please for-" he would have finished if the pain didn't ripple through his body, "please take the pain away!" he shouted as he curled into a ball.

Without thinking, Harry slapped him smartly across the face. The anger quickly faded away and his eyes widened. Damn, why did he hit Draco? "Bleeding fuck, I'm sorry! You're forgiven, you're forgiven, I swear!"

Slowly the pain ebbed away, except for the smack that had been placed on his face. He panted as his eyes reopened. Draco looked at Harry through bleak eyes, then passed out right there. Hm, and he called Harry a pansy.

"Huh. 'Emotional prat' my ass. Atleast I didn't faint." He sighed. How to get Draco to bed? Were his new muscles just for show or was there strength to back them up? Only one way to find out... Harry grabbed the big ball of Slytherin bastard only to find him easy to carry. He stood and carried Draco to the bed, ignoring the happiness he felt at having him in his arms. No time for lovey stuff. Sleep called. He pulled the covers up to Draco's chin and got into bed beside him.

He was asleep before he hit the pillow.

A/N: The little purple button down there tells you to review! Our hypnotic Draco powers call to yooooouuuuu…