The Great Hogwarts Body Switch

The teachers tried, they really did, to go on with their classes, even with this minor setback. But some problems arose. It seemed that levels of power and experience matched with the owner of the body, rather than the body itself.

So, several first years could be seen practicing N.E.W.T. level spells, while others would say they could hear Snape nearly crying when he couldn’t turn a marmoset into a pillow. Poor Colin Creevy was the lucky inhabitant, and he gradually got used to the fact that people tended to crowd together in small groups when he walked the halls.

Two days after the “incident,” the Gryffindors found themselves in double Transfigurations with Hufflepuff. Ernie, whose body was being used by Ginny, was coincidently enough switched into Professor McGonagall’s. He had learned the hard way about how to control Animagus powers, and was sitting in Transfiguration that day with cat ears sticking out of his head and a small hole in the back of his robes to leave a dark furry tail out.

Professor McGonagall, who herself was having great difficulty teaching a class while looking like a great oaf, gave Ernie a stern look as he entered and turned back to the blackboard.

“Hogwarts has faced many difficulties in the hundreds of years since its founding. They never kept us from continuing on, as this problem will not,” came his booming voice. The class was stunned. None of them had heard actual words come from Crabbe’s mouth, mostly he grunted or let out small beastlike snorts.

“Quickly read the introduction into chapter fourteen of Eggs into Eggplants and familiarize yourself with the correct way to turn materials made of wood into birds.”

The students shuffled around until a deep voice was heard. Stuttering, and sounding completely normal and weird at the same time, Hagrid raised his large arm and said, “Um, Professor, I don’t have my book.”

The mix-up had caused so much confusion that the students failed to notice that their half-giant gamekeeper and other professor was standing in the back of the classroom.

“Oh, of course it’s you Mr. Longbottom.”

*-*-*

Down the hall, the Slytherin second-years were having a Charms class taught by Flitwick, who was surprised by the sudden height of the Ravenclaw seventh-year whose body he was in. The whole class could hear the Hagrid’s loud voice through the walls.

After Flitwick assigned his class to the Floria Promeus Charm, which was suppose to make daisy dance, he sat on the floor by his desk and rubbed his head. The stool he usually sat on was too tall.

This is going to be a long day, thought Professor Flitwick right before he was hit in the head with a daisy that had started jumping instead of doing a waltz.

*-*-*

The teachers were feeling the effects of that sinister pumpkin juice just as much as the students were, if not more. The teachers gathered that Friday for their weekly curriculum discussion. But, the condition of the telescopes in the North Tower, or whether the Spiky Corflowers were budding, was not the topic of conversation.

“I seem to have encountered a rather uncomfortable problem,” said Professor Sprout, trying to put Cho’s long silky black hair into a bun, so as to not interfere with her work in the greenhouse.

“Whatever it is, I doubt that it’s as strange as the fact that I now have breasts,” complained Professor Snape in a very unsympathetic voice.

“Well, possibly not, but it’s very peculiar in its own way.”

“This is difficult for all of us. Crabbe seems to have an incredibly fast metabolism. I have to eat every hour or his growling stomach disturbs my class! I won’t even try to describe how hard it is to move with this much weight, honestly. Pomona, tell us what it is that’s bothering you so much.” Professor McGonagall was trying very hard to pity others, when she was stuck in the same situation.

“Well, I must admit that I haven’t had to deal with this for a very long time,” mumbled Professor Sprout while successfully tying up her hair. “Some of my older – um - male students seem to be paying very little attention to the plants they should be working on and more to me.”

“Isn’t that a good thing though? They’re acting more interested in their studies,” called Madam Pomfrey from a corner. She had started to avoid well-lit places since she had switched bodies. She was even more embarassed than most of the students.

At this comment, Professor Sprout blushed a dark red.

“It’s not Herbology they’re interested in. One of the Hufflepuff fourth years almost got his hand bitten off by a Snapping Greenbulb! And I’ve seen nearly a half dozen fall out of their seats! The students are putting themselves in danger!” cried Professor Sprout, nearly hysterical at this point.

“How can you call that your fault?” asked Madam Pomfrey, running her hand through flaming red hair.

“Because they were all too busy checking out my body!”