The pixies flying over Harry's head were mocking him. Little blue fuckers. The brunette was lying strapped to his bed, following them with his eyes as Draco opened the door.

Draco, despite his personality switch, remained in the hospital on the chance that Harry's trigger punch was a fluke. He stepped lightly into the room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. Licking his lips nervously, Draco walked forward, a book clutched in his hands.

"Hey Harry." He said, trying to sound friendly and not as nervous as he was. He pulled the padded plastic chair that was off to the side up against the bed, sitting down. He smiled, his knees bouncy from his nerves as he watched Harry attempt to roll his head around to see him.

Harry blinked blurrily at the figure sitting by his bed. Blobs of white and pale flesh, a soft voice that he didn't quite recognize. Where were his glasses?

"Dumbledore?" He murmured, his mouth dry and throat scratchy. He sounded awful in his own ears.

"No, it's…it's Draco, actually. I came to say hi."

Draco… Why did that name sound familiar? Harry couldn't quite remember. He groaned, scrunching his face in his forgetfulness. But he was aware, despite his lack of his sight, that he was being watched and turned his focus back to the speaking blob of pale colors.

"Hi." Harry said hoarsely, making Draco give a breathy chuckle.

"Hi there. I thought we could talk… Kind of, get to know each other a bit.."

"Alright, Draco."

And so they talked. What seemed like minutes to them was hours of going back a forth with foods they liked, music tastes, Harry telling Draco a little about his world while Draco told Harry about his goal of wanting to be a graphic designer.

"My parents don't worry too much about the career thing. Say I've got enough talent for it that it doesn't matter if I get the college degree or not. What they're worried about is me finding someone."

Harry squirmed, against his restraints, his position becoming uncomfortable after the long time spent talking. He wanted to sit up, be more on equal grounds with Draco in their conversation.

"Why would they be worried about that? You seem a real likeable bloke that girls would be falling all over."

Another breathing chuckle escaped Draco, "Thanks, but girls aren't particularly my area, so to speak."

Harry stilled, staring up at the blob he had grown accustom to in the last few hours. "Oh…"

A short awkward silence fell before Harry was wrestling with the restraints again. "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of blokes that are looking for a guy like you, artist type an all."

Draco let out a breath, relieved that Harry had accepted his sexuality without real problem. His father had put up a real racket when he had first come out.

"Not with my being in and out of here all the time, gay men tend to be a bit…put off by that sort of thing."

"What do you mean?" Harry's head was cocked in curiosity, bright green eyes staring up in the general area of Draco. A faint blush spread across the blonde's face. Harry wasn't exactly bad-looking, in fact quite the opposite. Even that odd scar above his right eyebrow added to his beauty. Draco cleared is throat, bringing himself back to the question at hand.

"I'm…that is, I have a mental disorder called Multiple Personality Disorder… It can be minorly controlled with medications, but it's something I can't help. Not many men, not many people in general for that matter, are willing to deal with the kind of commitment it would take to be with both sides of me…" Draco trailed off, looking down at his knees.

Harry, having finally wriggled a hand loose from his restrains, reached out toward the blonde. Feeling the top of fluffy hair, he gently patted Draco's head.

"You're nice, Draco. Someone will come and sweep you off your feet, or whatever it is gay guys do. You're other side can't be that bad." The hand slid down the side of Draco's face as he looked up, cradling the bruise from the punch Harry had given Malfoy.

"I hope your right, Harry…"