Prince of Serpents

"Sirius, sit down," Dumbledore said calmly.

The Headmaster watched the tall man halt his pacing with effort, his dark hair stuck up wildly from him continuously raking his fingers through it. When Sirius had arrived dragging Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy behind him, he hadn't known quite what to expect. After the Defence Professor had explained as well as he could, Dumbledore was momentarily speechless. Needless to say, that was more serious than he had anticipated.

"Headmaster?" Harry -- no, it's Draco, Dumbledore reminded himself -- inquired in a curt manner.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" answered Dumbledore.

"You know who I am. Who my family is. And what will happen if they find out about this," Draco said flatly. Dumbledore nodded slightly.

"I am aware," he said softly, putting his fingertips to his temples as if his head ached.

"So," Draco continued, "that means you also know that that is the last thing that should happen right now."

He folded his hands in his lap politely, then his face twisted and turned slightly pink at where exactly that meant he was putting his hands. Harry, who had been quietly sitting in a chair opposite the blonde boy, had the urge to laugh at his expression.

Dumbledore nodded slightly. "There is also, I believe, something Harry should know."

Draco twitched slightly. He'd known all along that he'd have to tell Harry who he was and what he did, though he'd been dreading it since waking up in Harry's body. He turned to see the other boy looking at him curiously.

"Look at your left forearm," he told him in a flat voice, forcing himself to meet Harry's now grey eyes emotionlessly.

Harry immediately paled, his face draining of any colour that could possibly have been there.

"No," he said in a trembling whisper. It was not a denial of Draco's command, for with one shaking hand he was reaching for the sleeve of his robe. It was a denial of what he knew inevitably that he would find underneath.

Draco looked away from the expression of horror and disgust as Harry looked down at his own arm, the pale, smooth flesh marred by a hideous skull. A snake curled from its mouth, seeming so alive that Harry expected it to hiss at him at any moment. The Dark Mark.

"You." Harry whispered, raising his eyes back to Draco, ".you're a---."

"No," Dumbledore gently cut into Harry's coming accusation. "He is not. Draco is, like Severus Snape, a spy for our side."

Draco still had his eyes locked on his hands. From a bare sliver of his vision, he had seen Harry's hateful, accusing stare when he had turned to confront him. It made his stomach feel icy cold. He forced himself to memorise the details of his new hands - Potter's hands. It wasn't hard, as they were long-fingered and graceful, with smooth skin. He noticed a small scar on his wrist, and it made him pause, but he passed it on for the time being.

"What in bloody hell are we going to do about this, Albus?" Sirius asked, his voice strained. That brought Draco's attention back to the situation at hand.

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "I don't know, Sirius.. But there is one thing I do know."

"What's that?" demanded Sirius; his nerves were so frayed that he was snapping at the Headmaster.

"For the time being, Draco and Harry must play the part of each other."

"WHAT??"

Both Harry and Draco issued the same cry at the same time, mouths agape at Dumbledore's preposition.

"You must," Dumbledore said firmly, his usually bright eyes darker than Harry had ever seen them before.

"But Headmaster.!" Sirius interrupted.

"If you have a better suggestion Sirius, I would love to hear it," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Polyjuice Potion?" Sirius answered immediately.

Dumbledore shook his head. "It would be unwise to use anything magical until after we find out exactly what went wrong with that spell."

"Isn't there any other way?" Sirius insisted.

"No, Sirius, there is not," the Headmaster answered in a hard tone.

Harry was surprised to see Sirius deflate, closing his mouth on any further protests.

"Well then, boys," the old man turned to Draco and Harry, "I will arrange for you to spend the night in the Hospital Wing, telling the rest of the students that you suffered minor injuries from the accident in class. No visitors will be allowed and the House Elves will bring some necessary items from your rooms. You must learn as much as you can from each other, so as to best play each other. Understood?"

Both boys nodded mutely.

*****************************************

'I don't believe this is happening,' Harry thought desolately, staring up at the blank white ceiling of the hospital wing. The long, silvery blonde hair falling in his face unnerved him, and he pushed it back from his forehead.

He had acted cool and silent since they had arrived, having been instructed by Dumbledore that no one, even the rest of the school staff, could know about the situation. It was too dangerous, too open, if any others knew. Harry wasn't even allowed to tell Ron and Hermione. Madame Pomfrey had left them alone a few hours before, telling them to rest up.

"I'm not exactly jumping for joy here either, Potter," Draco mumbled from across the room.

Harry lifted his head from the pillow to regard the other boy. Draco was sprawled across a chair, looking graceful in his feline way even in Harry's body. His black hair fell across his eyes, and the emerald glowed like green fire from beneath the shadow of the thick bangs. Harry's felt familiar stirrings deep in the pit of his stomach, and for a moment it confused him. Was he turned on by Draco.or by himself?

The thought brought an erratic bubble of laughter from his lips. The sound came out smooth and light, just as he had imagined Draco's laugh to sound.

"I know something that might cheer you up," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He noted that sarcasm fitted Draco's voice perfectly.

"And what would that be?" Draco asked, his voice laced with equal sarcasm, but also a hint of curiosity.

"Dumbledore said we have to learn all about each other, right?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Well, I'll start. Look at your stomach."

Draco's mouth twitched slightly, as if he wanted to question the relevance of the command, but his curiosity seemed to win out over his attitude. He pulled up the hem of his red and gold Gryffindor sweater and looked down.

There was a low whistle.

"Nice tattoo, Potter." he said earnestly, tossing bangs out of his eyes as he looked back up at Harry. "I didn't think you were gutsy enough to have one of these."

Harry would have answered, but Draco's first statement made the breath catch in his throat. Draco had said the exact words Harry had imagined him saying. Blush coloured his ashen cheeks, but he managed to keep his composure.

"Thanks," he answered, trying to keep his voice from catching. He was relieved to hear the words spoken coolly and confidently. Thank god for Draco's body being used to Draco's cool composure.

"Your turn," he said, a smile curling his lips at the statement.

Draco let out a breath. "This feels like Truth or Dare." he mumbled, trying to think of something of use he could tell Harry. "Ummm..hmm, well here's something. I'm not involved with any women, and don't plan to be."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the slightly threatening look on Draco's face, as if the other boy were warning him not to change that little detail. The laughter felt good; it eased some of the nervous tension than had been bothering him since the switch.

"Don't worry about that, Malfoy," he answered, automatically using his usual name for the boy. "I'm not really into-."

He stopped short, face colouring brightly at the implications he had just made. He felt like burying his face in the pillow beneath his head.

It was Draco's turned to chuckle slightly. The boy was starting to let his guard down, getting more and more comfortable with the other.

"Understandable," he commented, grinning, "because neither am I."

Harry felt his eyebrows lift in surprise.

"What about you and---?"

"Pansy?" Draco cut in with a slight sneer in his tone, looking down at his hands. "That girl is like a leech, I swear to god."

There was a few seconds of silence. Then a muffled snort could be heard from Harry's side of the room.

Draco looked up to see the boy doubled over on the bed, struggling to keep from laughing out loud. A grin cracked his face and he started to chuckle. Soon, like a dam breaking, it rose to a laugh. Harry, with a heave of relief, let out a whoop of glee as tears of laughter misted his eyes.

Their laughter rose in perfect harmony, and for a few moments both boys felt genuinely happy.

******************************

Watery sunlight poured through the Hospital Wing window, and slowly the two boys let it pull them from the arms of sleep.

After Madame Pomfrey had come in, warning to drug them with a Sleeping Draught, they had stayed up long into the night, telling each other in muted whispers much of their private histories and information. It had been hard, for both of them. Draco had quietly explained his role as a Death Eater spy while Harry listened on in mute horror. In return Harry had relived his own experience with Voldemort, the sound of his name making the so normally steady Draco shudder ever so slightly. Harry even found himself telling Draco about his parents. Both boys were surprised at how much they had revealed to one another.

Harry, as he had been the first to fall asleep the night before, was the first to wake, blinking in the dull morning light. He turned over and pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment to orient himself. He was wearing loose, black silk pyjama pants, compliments of Draco, and no shirt. He looked down, studying his new body. The fact that he was able to look at Draco's body half nude disconcerted him slightly.

Before he had a chance to examine the details, though, a voice interrupted him.

"'Morning." Draco mumbled, dragging himself out of bed.

Harry had always thought Draco to be a morning person, and he himself was one (when, of course, he actually got up), so the sight of himself with black hair wilder than it normally was and a bedraggled face make him laugh quietly.

"You know, I thought I looked that good in the morning," Draco said wryly.

Harry looked up to see a crooked smile on the other's face. "And I thought I looked better than that in the morning," he told him.

"Hey!" Draco started to protest, but was cut off when Dumbledore came bustling through the door.

"Good morning, boys," he said briskly, nodding to them. "I hope you are both prepared for today? You have given each other your respective classes and passwords?"

Both of the nodded, though a yawn split Draco's face in the middle of it.

"Well, be quick and dress, breakfast in the Great Hall will be in half an hour," Dumbeldore told them with a slight smile before turning to leave. Before the door shut behind him, they heard a fleeting, "Good luck..."

They door shut with a soft click. Green eyes stared into grey as the implication finally struck them. Today was the commencement of their performance playing each other...