"Madame Pomphrey, we have a slight problem," Draco announced, coming into the Infirmary, where Madame Pomphrey was tending to the new Ravenclaw Seeker, who had been knocked off her broom by a Bludger during her first practice. Oddly, she seemed quite happy about it.
"Harry, that girl is not a Death Eater, okay?"
"Of course she isn't, Ron! She's a Quidditch player," Harry replied, as if Draco was the crazy one.
"What did you do this time?" Madame Pomphrey said, reprovingly, pushing Harry to the bed.
"I didn't do anything!" Draco protested. "He's hallucinating. He thinks that I'm Ron Weasley, and he thought that half the Great Hall was Death Eaters. He nearly attacked everyone." Madame Pomphrey felt his forehead.
"He doesn't have a fever…" She began pulling out different potions. Harry snuggled into Draco's side, a sappy, lovesick smile on his face.
"I missed you," he murmured, and Draco's lip curled, disdainfully. "Did you miss me?" he asked, his green eyes full of hope. Draco sighed.
"Yes," he said, stiffly, and Harry squirmed with delight. Draco groaned, inwardly, knowing that he was going to have to put up with Harry. All of Hogwarts was depending on it.
"Good," Harry sighed, and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist. Madame Pomphrey raised an eyebrow at him.
"He seems to have a crush on Weasley," Draco said, in answer to her obvious question. She shook her head, sadly.
"Well, he'll have to stay here overnight, so I can do some tests on him. Come back tomorrow before breakfast."
Draco nodded and pulled himself from Harry's grip. "Where are you going?" Harry demanded.
"To bed," he replied, shortly. "Madame Pomphrey is going to do some tests, so do exactly what she tells you to do," Draco instructed.
"I don't want you to leave!" Harry pouted. "You have been gone for two months!"
"I'll be back tomorrow!" he insisted, but Harry shook his head. He stood on his toes to whisper in Draco's ear.
"I don't trust her," he hissed. "She looks like a Death Eater. She could easily poison me!" Draco sighed, heavily.
"She is not going to poison you!"
"Yes, she is!"
"No, she's not!"
"Yes, she is!"
"No, she's not!"
"Yes, she is!"
"FINE! What do you propose I do?" Draco cried, exasperatedly. Harry stuck out his lower lip in a pout.
"Stay with me?" Draco sighed.
"Fine," he muttered, pulling up a chair to the side of Harry's bed.
Madame Pomphrey immediately went to work. She began giving Harry potions, waiting to see his reaction. During a particularly nasty potion, Harry held out his hand, and Draco reluctantly took it.