Switched

Switched

Chapter One

The Bad Morning After

Draco Malfoy had always been perfectly happy with who he was. Who wouldn't be? He was gorgeous, a great fuck, and unbelievably wealthy. So what if that annoying Granger did better than he did on a few tests? He could buy test scores. And who cares if Potter always beat him at Quidditch? What did Quidditch matter anyway? It's a great excuse to party, yes, but other than that....

So, when Draco awoke early one Monday morning in December, still hung over from a particularly rowdy Quidditch party the night before, he felt an overwhelming contentment with who he was. However, this feeling was swiftly replaced with the sensation that something was wrong. Very wrong. As Draco opened his eyes, he realized his surroundings were exceptionally blurry, even given the amount he'd drank the night before. Everything was a swirl of red and gold...this was definitely not his bed, or even his dorm room.

Did I sleep with a Gryffindor?

Draco sat up, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to bring them into focus. Slowly he realized that the symphony of snoring around him could only mean one thing. This was not a girl's dormitory.

I slept with a Gryffindor boy?

Draco shuddered at the thought. He'd known for ages that he was definitely bisexual, and spent many summer vacations "making friends" with fabulous foreign boys. But, as his father reminded him time and time again - speaking from experience, Draco figured - Malfoys are never, ever openly gay. School is no place to experiment with boys. Despite Draco's strong dislike for his father, he had always followed this advice. There weren't any boys worth fucking at Hogwarts anyway.

Draco began to fumble around like mad. Thankfully, the bed was empty at the moment, and it was far too early for anyone else to be up. He pulled back the heavy curtains and saw the blurry outline of a bed stand. Draco ran his hands over the top, until he found a pair of all too familiar glasses.

I slept with POTTER?

Draco had always questioned the sexuality of his nemesis. After all, Harry did seem to stare in Draco's direction far too often, but neither boy would ever be drunk enough to...

Draco leapt out of the bed, wanting to be contaminated no longer. There had to be a mistake... something...

Stumbling blindly about, Draco ran headlong into an open wardrobe, crashing to the floor in a heap. Confused and miserable, he rubbed his pained head. But... something else was wrong. His hair felt thicker... more ruffled than usual. And his fingers were rough, not their usual silkiness. And then Draco's hand traced over a scar on his forehead. A scar shaped like a lightening bolt.

On his feet in an instant, Draco found the wardrobe mirror and pressed his nose to it, squinting to see properly. Sure enough, the person staring back was not the tall, fair, and handsome Draco Malfoy, but Harry Potter.

Harry woke up with a pounding headache.

Whatever it was Hermione fed me last night, it didn't work.

Nearly Christmas and fighting a head cold he didn't want for the break, Harry had been about to ask Madam Pomfrey for medication when Hermione insisted he try her homemade cold remedy instead. After much insistence on Hermione's part, Harry had warily given in, drinking her potion and immediately succumbing to a deep sleep. This was a nice change given the insomnia that had plagued Harry since last June.

But it looked like the potion hadn't worked after all, because Harry not only had a headache, but he was freezing cold. He attempted to snuggle underneath his blankets, but his bed sheets were strangely cool and smooth. And, the thundering noises coming from around him didn't sound like the snores of Neville, Ron, Dean, and Seamus at all. Harry sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately he knew something was wrong. For one thing, he could see, and he wasn't wearing his glasses. And this wasn't his bed. There was too much silver and green - this had to be a Slytherin room.

Why am I in the Slytherin dorms? In a Slytherin bed?

Praying that he wasn't dreaming about Draco Malfoy in bed (again), Harry gave himself a hard pinch. Pain seared through his arm.

What is going on?!

Harry leapt from the bed and tore back his curtains, finding himself face to face with a large, encrusted mirror. Staring back at him was the very pale, pointed face of Draco Malfoy.

Before he could react, the dormitory door flew open, and Harry gasped to see himself standing there.

"I knew it. What have you done, Potter?" Harry's voice was saying.

"Malfoy? Is that you in there?" Harry asked.

"Yes, you git. Give me my body back." Malfoy lunged across the room and tackled Harry. They fell back onto the bed.

"Careful. You wouldn't want to bruise up your own body," Harry said, squirming away. He needed to think. This had to be the result of magic. It must've been the potion. "Hermione...."

"Even at a time like this, all you can think of is your mudblood girlfriend? Don't worry Potter, I've taken the liberty of having a look at you and something tells me she'll be happy with the new... changes," Malfoy spat.

"No... last night I drank a potion made by Hermione. I don't know how, but something in it caused us to switch," Harry said, too distracted by the present situation to correct Draco about Hermione being his girlfriend - or to check and see if his 'allegations' were true.

"Look, Potter, you and I are going to go get Professor Snape right now so we can get an antidote. I don't want you polluting my perfect form any longer," Malfoy said.

"No," Harry cried, in spite of himself. As much as the idea of being Malfoy - and Malfoy being him - repulsed Harry, he was all too aware of what this might do to Hermione. Last week she had stormed out of Potions class after Snape gave her a hard time, and that meant one more strike and she could be suspended. Given her parents newfound aversion to Hogwarts now that they'd found out all about the looming war, if Hermione was sent home, her parents might not allow her to come back. Harry would not have that. He needed to talk to her before this got out.

"Potter, spare me the -"

"Listen, Malfoy, if Hermione gets in trouble again she could be suspended. Give me until noon. Please."

"Save it Potter. I'm telling, whether you come with me or not."

"Come on Malfoy, why walk away from an opportunity like this? I'll... I'll do anything. Just pretend to be me for the morning and whatever you want, I'll do it," Harry offered, with great difficulty.

Malfoy thought for a moment, and sure enough, his greed got the best of him. "Fine. You have until noon. But we'd better shake on it."

Harry stuck out his hand.

"Give me my wand; I want to make this official."

Harry found Draco's wand on the bedside table, but he held onto it. "Tell me what I'm shaking on."

"You're hardly in the deal-making position here, Potter."

"At least give me my wand."

Draco pulled Harry's wand from the pocket of the robes he was wearing. Eyes locked, they swapped wands.

"Bondus." Draco said, pointing his wand at his hand. "Now shake. And if you try and break your word once I think of your punishment, your fingers will shrivel up and your skin will go black until you do as I say."

Reluctantly, Harry shook Draco's hand. The other boy smiled wickedly and Harry was shocked to see his own face looking so cruel.

"Now, find me at lunchtime or I go find Snape. And Potter? Keep your hands and eyes to yourself. No messing around with my body, got it?"

Harry didn't dignify this remark with a response. Thankfully, Crabbe and Goyle continued to snore as Malfoy left, no one the wiser of the switch. After a moment, Harry remembered Malfoy's degrading words of judgement.

If he can look, then I can look.

With a wicked grin, Harry began to change for school.

By the time Draco found his way back to the tower, the other Gryffindors were slowly waking up. With no real desire to engage any of them in mindless conversation, he remained in the common room alone. Unfortunately, Granger soon came downstairs.

"Oh, Harry, good, you're up. My button just snapped, I was hoping you'd fix it for me," Hermione said.

Draco turned to face her and was given a lovely view of her bra, peeking through the hole in her shirt.

"A reparo spell should do it, but I can't seem to get the right spot doing it to myself," Hermione went on.

Draco had noticed that the girl had gone through puberty over the summer, but he'd never dreamed things looked that good underneath her school uniform.

The Potter boy must be gay, because Granger certainly seems to think of him as no more than a 'gal-pal'.

Unable to resist, Draco placed his hand firmly on Hermione's chest, causing her to jump just a little.

"Here we go," he said, smiling in what he hoped was a stupid Potter way as he held the blouse closed, fingers wandering ever so slightly. Stepping close to her, he said the spell, and the shirt was mended.

Hermione was now blushing deeply.

"Morning," Ron said, coming down the stairs.

Hermione leapt away. "Ron. Morning. Harry was just fixing my shirt."

"Right." Ron didn't look convinced.

Draco attempted to look innocent, but Ron frowned. Draco could've laughed at Ron's jealousy and bit back a scathing remark. Hermione glanced at Draco, but before he could respond, Neville and Ginny appeared.

"Hey Gin. Morning," Neville said shyly, but Ginny ignored him, choosing to wink at Draco instead.

Draco was beginning to like being Harry Potter. Not that he wanted anything to do with a Weasel like Ginny or a mudblood like Hermione, but this was proving to be an excellent way to cause trouble.

"You look great this morning Ginny," he said, laying on the cheesy Potter charm. Ron glanced at him once more, and Neville scowled openly.

"Let's, uh, go to breakfast," Hermione decided, and everyone complied. Despite being stuck with Harry's insipid friends, Draco felt like he would enjoy this.

Harry meant to get ready quickly and rush to find his friends, but his plan was quickly foiled. Crabbe and Goyle could not understand why he refused to wait for them, and Blaise Zabini was so insistent that Draco was mad at them that all three began apologizing for some unknown slight. When Harry finally escaped, promising to meet them in the common room, he was ambushed by Pansy Parkinson on the stairway.

"I missed you last night, baby," she said, pining Harry to the wall. "I was all drunk and with no Draco to fool around with."

"I -" but before Harry could form a sentence, Pansy's lips were pressed against his and her hands were attempting to get inside his pants. Harry gave a small gasp and she pulled away.

"Just a little wake-up call to remind you who's yours," she said.

Pansy slinked away just as Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise appeared, and they flanked Harry all the way to the hall, driving him to the Slytherin table.

Still stunned from Pansy, who was batting her eyes at him across the table, Harry resigned himself to eat with his grunting housemates. He couldn't just saunter over to the Gryffindor table and sit down anyway. If he drew to much attention, he was certain Dumbledore would catch on.

After breakfast, Harry rushed out of the hall, hoping to catch Hermione or Ron's eye. Surely they'd realize something was up. Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle were hot on his heels.

"Hey -" as Harry caught up with his friends, they turned on him in anger.

"Sod off Malfoy," Ginny snapped. Despite being the supposed love of his life, Harry thought she looked rather nasty right now. Draco was smiling at him smugly, obviously up to no good. Before Harry could get another word out, Crabbe and Goyle were pulling him away, and he was left to wonder what he'd gotten himself into. With Draco in his body, he could be expelled and hated by lunchtime.

"And furthermore, Ron, McGonagall is only being fair, NEWT level courses are supposed to be challenging. If you just applied yourself a -" Hermione began.

"Hermione, I am applying myself. I'm not like you, I have other interests besides school," Ron said.

"Ron I do to have other interests. I'm currently branching out SPEW to include -"

"SPEW hardly counts as -"

Draco tried to tune Ron and Hermione's arguing out. He was already at wits end and it was before first period. Thankfully, McGonagall entered the room, and they both fell silent.

"Good morning. Today we will be starting on our studies of Animagi, or humans who can transform into animals. Although becoming an Animagi is not a requirement of the NEWT exam, you are expected to know how to recognize one, as well as how to do basic physical transformations to yourself. Now, the four major..."

Draco put his head on his desk, wishing McGonagall would shut up. Being Harry was no fun if he actually had to go to class.

"Mr. Potter? Am I boring you?" McGonagall's sharp voice cut through Draco's thoughts.

"Oh, no Professor," Draco replied, confident McGonagall would favour her house as usual.

She remained looking grim. "Then tell me, Mr. Potter, since I'm certain you were listening, what is the first thing to look for when trying to distinguish an Animagi from a regular animal?"

Hermione's hand shot up.

"That one seems to have slipped my mind," Draco replied.

"Perhaps if you listened, Mr. Potter. And watch your tone, I'm not here to suffer your ill moods," McGonagall said.

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. Only when he was Potter did she get mad.

"I saw that Mr. Potter," McGonagall snapped.

Draco's patience was growing thin. What did he care if Potter got in trouble? If it meant he got out of class....

"Then I imagine you'll see this as well," Draco said, flipping her the middle finger.

"Mr. Potter. Outside. Now."

Draco sauntered to the back of the classroom with McGonagall on his heels. Once they were outside, she slammed the door and turned to face him, but she looked far more worried than she did angry.

"What's the meaning of this, Harry?" she asked.

Draco didn't know what to say. When it was him causing trouble, every professor but Snape (the only fair one) simply deducted points and sent him to Dumbledore.

"Have you been sleeping? You look positively exhausted," McGonagall went on.

Draco put on his best 'pity me; I have no parents' look. "Just a bad morning Professor."

"Harry, personal troubles is no excuse for disrespecting a teacher. Now I know that since last June, things have been difficult for you, but you must understand that we're on your side. I think you should go see the Headmaster, you can confide in him. He will listen."

"I agree, Professor. Thank you," Draco replied, trying not to grin. He turned to go.

"And Harry? That will be thirty points from Gryffindor. Don't ever question my authority again." McGonagall ducked back into the classroom.

Draco laughed aloud. Poor Potter, such a tough life. He began to walk slowly in the direction of Dumbledore's office, knowing that McGonagall would message the Headmaster promptly that Harry was expected.

Bloody Potter, thinks he has it rough... this is nothing!

It was only half-way through Potions and Harry couldn't wait to get out of there. He wondered how he could possibly get to his friends in time, before Draco caused too much damage.

"Tell us, Mr. Malfoy, what is the key ingredient of the Veritaserum Potion?" Snape appeared before Harry's desk, smiling at him in a rather disgusting manner.

Harry, who had no idea at all, felt himself growing red. "I, uh, seem to have forgotten...."

Snape frowned. "Mr. Malfoy, surely you remember something I mentioned only yesterday?"

"Uh...."

The Ravenclaws on the other side of the room sniggered.

"Silence... five points from Ravenclaw for disrupting my class."

"He doesn't know the answer and Slytherin didn't lose any points," a bold boy in the first row exclaimed.

"Make that fifteen points from Ravenclaw," Snape replied. "Perhaps a demonstration will refresh your memory Mr. Malfoy." He waved his wand and several ingredients appeared before Harry. "Please show the class the correct order to add the first four ingredients to brew the base for the potion."

Well shit.

Harry hastily added all four, going on pure guesswork. And sure enough, the concoction bubbled and splattered all over Snape, who was now looking especially irate - and somewhat confused.

"Mr. Malfoy. Ten points from Slytherin," he exclaimed, waving his wand to clean up the mess. The classroom was beginning to smell foul.

Harry was momentarily angry at having lost points. "So I can't brew the bloody potion. Big deal. I don't hang on your every word, Snape," he muttered, only then realizing it was Slytherin points, and if anything, he should try to lose some more.

"Mr. Malfoy. Outside. Now," he roared.

Harry stormed outside, ignoring the shocked looks of his classmates. Out in the hallway, however, Snape's demeanour changed.

"Draco, what's going on? You've never had difficulties in my class before," he said, voice lowered. "And I have to take away points sometimes, or those loudmouthed Ravenclaws will complain to Dumbledore."

"I, uh...." Harry was at a loss. Snape wasn't nasty all the time?

"Listen, Draco, I know it must be hard with you're father on the run from the Ministry, but you must understand that there comes a time when you have to... distinguish yourself from your parents. If you ever need anyone to talk to...."

"No. I'm fine." The thought of confiding in Snape, of all people, freaked Harry out.

"I'm sending you to see the Headmaster nonetheless, Draco. He's been on my case about my... teaching methods, so I feel like I must."

Harry nodded, eager to escape the horrible class, even if it meant seeing Dumbledore. Surely he could fool the Headmaster into believing he was Draco?

Draco was nearly outside the office when he ran into none other than Ginny Weasley.

"Harry." She rushed over to embrace him. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something. I don't mean to nag, but when are we going to tell Ron and Hermione about us? Sometimes I feel like you're ashamed or something."

Draco could've laughed. Not only was Potter dating the little Weasel, but he didn't want anyone to know.

"And Harry, I've been thinking about Ron and Hermione and I think that you and I should set the two of them up. I know you deny that they like each other, but I wish you'd trust my intuition, I'm certain that they do. And another thing, I wish you'd tell someone you're having trouble sleeping."

And I'm not surprised he's ashamed, the girl's a total drag.

Longing to shut her up, Draco did the one thing he could think of - he kissed her. Ginny was silenced willingly, and soon her tongue was in his mouth. Draco could finally see what Potter saw in her. His hands found her ass, and the kiss grew more intense, both oblivious to the fact that they were in the middle of the hallway right next to Dumbledore's office.

"Hey!"

Draco's voice pulled him from the kiss.

"Get your hands off her." Potter was charging at them full tilt.

Ginny stood her ground. "Fuck off Malfoy, I love him and -"

"What?" Ron suddenly appeared on the scene, Hermione right behind. Thankfully, Ginny drew her wand to protect Draco from a furious-looking Potter. Ron and Hermione arrived a moment later, Hermione standing next to Draco and looking at him incredulously.

"Harry, what's going on? We told McGonagall we had Prefect duties just to get out her and talk to you," Hermione said.

"Ginny, you like Harry now?" Ron asked. "Harry, do you like her?"

"Listen to me -" Potter began, but Draco, wanting to get him in a bit more trouble first, interrupted.

"I just don't know who I like," Draco exclaimed, and he grabbed Hermione and kissed her firmly on the mouth, all the while denying to himself that he'd wanted to do that for months now. It wasn't as good a kiss as the one he shared with Ginny - not that Draco had enjoyed that... because he hadn't - due to Hermione's surprise, but Draco still managed to get his tongue in her mouth before Potter and Weasley tore them apart.

"Listen here Malfoy..." Potter began, but before he could finish, Dumbledore appeared from inside his office, looking stern.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter you are both due in my office immediately. Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, and Miss Granger, you all should return to class at once. This way, boys."

Draco reluctantly followed Dumbledore, Potter fuming behind him.

"Mr. Malfoy, please wait here," Dumbledore said, motioning Draco into his office. With a wicked glance at Potter, Draco went inside.

"Now, please sit down. Professor McGonagall tells me you lost your temper in her class. I thought you had more of a handle on your emotions now," Dumbledore said. "As I have told you before, anger and hate cannot assist you in developing your skills as a foe for Voldemort. He feeds on these emotions. Tell me, Harry, what is troubling you?"

It slowly dawned on Draco - as he tried to process these strange words of advice - that by agreeing to lie about the switch, he was agreeing to get in trouble for pretending to be Harry. If Dumbledore found out now, Draco would definitely be in shit. Draco needed to convince the Headmaster he was Harry.

"I'm, uh, frustrated," he finally said. This was true enough. Draco often felt frustrated - granted it was usually because of Potter and Dumbledore - but the Headmaster seemed to buy it nonetheless.

"You know, Harry, as much as I encourage you to engage in regular activities and act as thought you never heard that prophecy, you cannot let personal troubles interfere with your studies here at Hogwarts. You are not a special case, and therefore I have no choice but to give you detention tomorrow night. Now, if you could please wait outside my door until I am done with Mr. Malfoy, I wouldn't want you distracted from returning to class by Miss Weasley... or for that matter, Miss Granger."

Stunned, Draco left the room and motioned Potter inside, who brushed past him roughly. Dumbledore had given The Boy Who Lived detention? And what had he been going on about, prophecies and whatnot? Draco racked his brain... hadn't his father once mentioned some kind of prophecy?

Harry slumped into Dumbledore's chair, attempting to behave as Malfoy and be angry. It didn't help that Harry's trademark temper had somewhat ebbed over the summer. Insomnia meant that Harry was often too exhausted to feel anything resembling anger.

"Mr. Malfoy. I must admit I am surprised to see you here. Professor Snape claims you had an outburst in his classroom?" Dumbledore asked.

"Something like that," Harry muttered, avoiding Dumbledore's eye.

"Care to elaborate why you'd lash out at your own head of house?"

Harry tried to think of what Malfoy would possibly say to Dumbledore. Surely he wouldn't be forthcoming. "I couldn't tell you. Must've had an off breakfast."

This at least got Harry his desired result, Dumbledore appeared rather annoyed. "Draco, I know your father has ingrained in you a strong dislike for me, but do you not tire of always repeating his words as gospel? Surely you are capable of forming your own opinions?"

"I do have an opinion... you and everyone else on this staff is biased against me because I'm a Malfoy. I could be entirely different than my father is and you lot would favour Potter all the same." This sentiment was true enough, Harry often felt he was treated differently because of who he was... although he'd recently stopped complaining about that fact and tried to accept it.

"Well Draco, I'm sorry you feel that way. And just to show you that we don't favour Harry over anyone else, I'm going to assign you to spend a detention with him." Dumbledore rose and went to the door. "Boys, you may leave, and I trust you won't let any petty squabbles detour you from returning to class."

Anger boiling in Harry once more that Malfoy had kissed not only Ginny but Hermione too, Harry followed Malfoy out of the office. They were barely a few steps away, however, when Ginny appeared and pointed her want at Malfoy.

"You're not Harry," she said. Ron and Hermione appeared from behind a statue as well, eyes on Harry and Malfoy.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

"We've switched. You have to believe me. I'm Harry," Harry exclaimed.

"Nice work Granger, you've royally screwed up this time," Malfoy added.

"Hermione, that drink you gave me last night, it did something to us. It's the only explanation," Harry said.

"Harry... is that you?" Hermione stepped towards him, took a long look, and nodded. "But, I brewed the potion perfectly. My eyes never left it...."

"If you switched, why didn't you tell Dumbledore?" Ron interjected.

"Because Potty here bewitched me into thinking waiting would be a good idea. Now if we tell we're both in deep shit for not telling," Malfoy said.

"Mostly you for your outrageous behaviour," Harry exclaimed.

"You got in trouble too," Malfoy replied.

"Neville. That's it. I left the potion for a moment and he watched it," Hermione said.

"Well then that idiot must've messed something up. What were you thinking, trusting him?" Malfoy asked.

"He's not all that awful at Potions you know, it's just Professor Snape who makes him doubt his every action," Ginny said.

"I have to talk to Neville. We'll both be in trouble if this gets out," Hermione said.

"That's why I waited." Harry said. "I didn't want you in trouble."

"It's Neville I'm worried about. Ever since he cursed that Slytherin girl when she talked about his mum, he's been one wrong move away from expulsion," Hermione said.

"We won't tell. Will we?" Harry looked at Malfoy.

"I can't now. You owe me big time Potter, just you wait," Malfoy said.

"Until we figure this out you'd better behave Malfoy," Ron said.

"I will if he will," Draco replied.

"Fine," Harry said.

Ron now turned to Harry. "You alright in there, mate?"

"I'll survive. But Ginny, how did you know it wasn't me? It isn't that obvious, is it?" Harry asked.

"It was the... kiss. You're never that, er, forceful," Ginny said.

Ron's eyes grew wide.

"Oh. Umm...Ginny and I have been going out for awhile now," Harry said.

Ron didn't look too mad after all, thanks mainly to a reproachful look from Hermione.

"Okay, we'd all better work towards figuring this out. I'll talk to Neville then let you know, okay Harry?" Hermione pulled Ron in the direction of class.

Harry nodded, thankful the secret was finally out.

"Okay. I'd better get to class." Harry began to head back to the dungeons.

Malfoy merely scowled and walked behind Ron and Hermione. Ginny didn't seem to know what to do, and ended up patting Harry on the back before rushing away. Hoping it would all be over soon, Harry trudged down the stairs.

Draco spent the rest of the day avoiding Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who were all glaring at him mercilessly, despite the plan to pretend like everything was normal. Rumours were already spreading about a sordid love triangle, and Draco was subjected to more than his usual amount of whispers and stares from his fellow classmates. Beginning to feel like a freak on display, Draco was quick to return to his dormitory to be alone.

Still angry for being trapped in Harry's body, Draco mused over the words of the Headmaster. Soon enough curiosity got the best of him, and he began to search through Harry's belongings, hoping for a clue. After half an hour of looking at socks and shirts, Draco hit pay dirt. In the bottom of Harry's trunk were a worn photo album and several old letters. Draco rolled his eyes at the cheesy family and friend photos, and was momentarily disturbed to see a picture of himself - granted he only happened to be in the background, but he was there nonetheless. The letters proved to be more interesting. After countless dull letters from Ron and Hermione, he found what he was looking for. Letters from Sirius Black. Draco had known all along that Black was innocent, and by the end of fourth year he was also well aware that Black could transform into a dog and that Harry's allegations about Voldemort were in fact true. And, despite having heard from his father only once - Draco and his mother had paid a horrifying visit to Azkaban two weeks before the Dementors turned - he now knew Black was dead. He remembered his father talking of some plan to steal a prophecy last year, but his father had refused to talk about it afterwards, only muttering something about it being lost. In fact, Draco's usually intimidating father had done a lot of muttering when they'd visited him, especially about Draco's 'big chance' (whatever that meant), which only served to make both Draco and his mother very uneasy. Draco knew one thing for certain - he would never, ever risk going to Azkaban.

Reading over each cherished letter from Black, Draco wanted to laugh, but somehow the mirth remained caught in his throat. He too had lost a fair share of relatives to war, but they never had funerals for Death Eaters and traitors. Often no one even shed a tear. It seemed Harry, however, had shed many a tear over these old letters, but Draco doubted he would ever taunt the other boy for it. There were some things even he knew better than to touch on.

Feeling suddenly very bad, Draco hastily put the letters away. The remaining ones were a few idle love notes from Ginny, full of run-on sentences and bad poetry attempts, which Draco noticed were not nearly as cherished as the other papers. Harry, he was discovering, seemed to be something of a mystery. He secretly dates his best friend's sister, yet seems to cherish a dead godfather more than her. Harry always seemed so damn cheery, but it appeared that was a mask for what was really going on. Draco shoved the letters away, deciding deciphering The Boy Who Lived was not worth his time. They came from different worlds - they wouldn't ever understand each other.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little melancholy the rest of the day. Just yesterday he'd been fuming over how annoying Ron and Hermione's bickering was, and avoiding Ginny because she always seemed to pester him. What he wouldn't give to be with them now. Harry soon realized, however, that the Slytherins were not exactly as they seemed. In fact, the entire group (except, perhaps, a select few seventh years) seemed to look to Draco for guidance. Their vicious and cruel behaviour stemmed only from his similar behaviour; otherwise, they remained silent, agreeing to everything he said a little too eagerly. Harry was all too happy to feign a headache and leave them promptly after dinner.

Alone in Draco's room, Harry tried to block out the moronic comments that were floating upstairs from the common room. He wanted to work on switching back, but it didn't seem like there was anything he could do. Finally, boredom got the best of Harry and he began to poke around Draco's belongings. What started as innocent looking soon developed into full-fledged prying.

Finding far too many clothes in the wardrobe, Harry soon moved to Draco's trunk, laughing aloud at the number of mirrors the other boy seemed to own, each one incrusted with the Malfoy family crest. Eventually, Harry managed to open a secret compartment in the trunk, and found what he was looking for. The stern face of Lucius Malfoy and the cold sneer of Narcissa glared at him from behind a heavy frame. Underneath the picture was a huge scroll, depicting every 'worthy' member of the Malfoy clan, with stars next to names of people Draco was supposed to associate with. Then he found letters from Lucius and Narcissa, tossed aside and barely touched. For the most part they were all the same - stay true to the family, uphold our honour - and even the ones from Draco's beloved mother were utterly exempt from any kind words. Harry, who'd always imagined Draco as utterly spoiled, despite his father's nasty façade, felt slightly bad for him. The feelings melted away, however, when he saw what came next. Several books of dark magic were hidden at the bottom of the trunk, many of them dog-eared and worn, as though Draco had been practising the evil spells for a very long time. Tucked in the back of one book, was a brief note warning that Draco was expected to learn every spell in the book on his own before graduation, written (of course) by Lucius. Harry scanned the book on the off chance that switching-places spells were in there somewhere, and found himself drawn to the mysterious and frightful spells listed, many of them promising glory at an awful price. He wondered if Draco knew them all yet, if he sat alone in his room at night, practising them with an evil grin. Harry, who wouldn't have put it past the pale boy yesterday, somehow found himself doubting it now.

The sound of Crabbe and Goyle lurching upstairs tore Harry from his book, and he retreated behind his bed curtain to hide. He still couldn't get over being inside someone else's skin; everything from the way Draco moved to the sound of his voice seemed impossible to get used to. Harry sighed, and sank back onto his pillow, longing for sleep. Hopefully, it would all be over soon.