I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
but heaven knows I’m miserable now
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
and heaven knows I’m miserable now
- ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’ The Smiths -

On a bright, sunny afternoon Harry Potter’s life was irrevocably changed due to one Draco Malfoy. Now, normally circumstances such as these would involve thunder and lightning but the gods have a strange sense of humor when it came to Mr. Potter and so he woke up thinking nothing could ruin his day.

Oh how very wrong he was.

“Ron!” Harry cried merrily, tugging the other boy’s covers to the floor and shaking him roughly, “Ron you lazy slug get out of bed!”

Ron murmured something and buried his head further in his pillow.

Harry pursed his lips for a moment before yelling, “Hermione! What are you doing in the boys’ dormitory naked!?”

Ron’s head whipped up and he searched frantically for his girlfriend. When she wasn’t there he glared at Harry and swung himself out of bed mumbling something about beating the Dark Lord to the punch.

XoX

Later the same, sunny day the Golden Trio sat in the Great Hall and happily munched down on their breakfast.

“Today,” Ron proclaimed, surveying the Hall, “is a bad day.”

Harry smiled and looked up at the clear sky and sunshine that the enchanted ceiling was showing. “Nah,” he said, “today’s going to be a really good day!”

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder and he turned to a grim looking Professor McGonagall.

“Harry,” she said, “please come with me.”

XoX

Harry soon found himself in the Hospital Wing sitting in one of the not-so-comfortable chairs and wondering what the gathered teachers wanted with him.

Professors Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick along with Madame Pomfrey were gathered around the Headmaster and talking in hushed tones, glancing at Harry every once and awhile. Eventually Pomfrey walked over and asked if she could take a vial of his blood. He nodded his assent and held his arm out to her. Smiling she tapped his vein and was suddenly holding a vial of blood. She thanked him and turned back to the other adults in the room.

Harry sat, twiddling his thumbs and feeling more then a little worried about the reason they’d taken his blood. Was there something wrong with it? Did Voldemort give him a strange disease through their link?

There was a flash of white light where the teacher’s were standing and Harry turned in time to see the vial of his blood glow gold before imploding on itself with a small ‘pop!’. The teacher’s either looked startled or resigned and Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as if he’d been let in on some great cosmic joke. Perhaps he had.

Walking over to Harry he began to explain his reason for inviting Harry here. “Harry,” he said, “we have a serious problem and need your help. A student has been forced into a magical coma and we’ve just confirmed that you have the right blood, brain, and magical type to help him. Will you?”

Harry didn’t even pause to think, he just nodded. “Sure Headmaster, what do you need me to do?”

“Ah, that’s where things get complicated. You see when someone is sent into this class of magical coma they’re under until the clause specified by the caster if fulfilled. Unfortunately we have no idea what that clause is and, as... the victim of the attacks is unable to tell us himself there is only one – temporary I assure you – solution.” Dumbledore took a deep breath and looked Harry straight in the eye. “Harry we need you to let the other boy into your mind and allow him to talk through you, if the clause cannot be satisfied right away as we suspect the case will be then we’ll need you to continue to house his mind – and soul – until it can be. Now, do you still accept?”

Harry nodded and the other occupants of the room let out a collective sigh of relief, although Snape looked a bit angry at the same time. As if he knew that Harry had to help, but was stubbornly refusing to like the fact.

Madame Pomfrey led Harry to an empty bed next to a shrouded and occupied one. “Lie down and relax,” she said kindly, “you’ll feel a bit of a pushing sensation in your head and then, most probably, pass out. We need to give you a potion first, so drink up.”

Harry nodded and accepted the cerulean potion she offered. Pinching his nose in case it was one of the awful medicinal ones he was usually forced to take in the Hospital Wong he swallowed it in one gulp.

He immediately felt very dizzy and abruptly collapsed into the mattress of the bed. His last sight before falling asleep was Dumbledore, eyes twinkling for all they were worth.

XoX

When Harry awoke he immediately knew something was wrong. Very wrong. He was in the back of his own head and looked out through his own eyes as he talked to a group of people.

Only was it really him talking? He certainly didn’t feel like he was talking, he was just... sitting in the back of his own mind and watching himself talk. How strange.

“Oh,” he heard himself say, “I think Potter just woke up.”

Harry started. It was his voice but... the tone reminded him very strongly of someone. Someone he sure as hell didn’t want crawling through his mind.

“Yeah, he’s awake. Oh. And panicking.”

Shit.

‘Potter? They want to talk to you now. Can you push yourself forward or do you need me to do it for you?’

Harry looked around him, shrugged, and pushed himself forward. Immediately he felt himself pop back into his body – which was a bit of a shock after floating in the back of his own mind for as long as he did.

“Um, Professor Dumbledore, who exactly is in here with me?” Harry asked, voice shaking slightly.

‘Oh really Potter, I’ve tortured you for seven years and you don’t even recognize my voice? I’m hurt, really I am.’

Harry could almost feel the sarcasm rolling of his unwanted lodger.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, attempting to look grave while his eyes twinkled, “you’re now sharing a body – temporarily – with Draco Malfoy.”

Oh fuck, Harry thought.