Switched

Chapter Two:

The Plan, The Plot, and The Possibilities

"Neville. May we have a word?" Hermione pulled the round-faced boy aside as he entered the common room the next morning.

Draco yawned, not used to being up in time to do anything but rush to breakfast and then off to class.

"Sure, I was just off to breakfast -" Neville began, but Ron grabbed his arm.

"We need to chat here, Neville," Ron said.

"It's private," Ginny added, with an attempt at a reassuring smile.

Once the common room emptied out, Hermione sat Neville down.

"Remember how I asked you to watch my potion the other day, the one I was making for Harry?" She asked.

Neville glanced anxiously at Draco.

"What did you do?" Draco knew something was up.

"I, uh, what?" Neville stammered.

"Did you add anything to the potion? Change the temperature? Cast a spell? Anything?" Hermione went on.

"Neville, we're not mad or anything -" Ginny started.

"Speak for yourself. Listen here Longbottom, it's time you knew what was what. I am not Potter. I am Draco Malfoy. Something caused a switch yesterday between Potter and I. And against my better judgement, we didn't tell anyone. And now it is too late," Draco said.

"We're trying to protect you, Neville," Ginny added.

"The last thing Harry did was drink that potion," Hermione said.

"And somehow it caused the swap," Ron said.

Neville, who always seemed to be relatively flushed, was now the colour of chalk. He nonetheless shook his head, insisting he was innocent. Draco, however, knew better.

"Tell us what happened or I'll make you tell," he snarled, grabbing Neville by the collar. Ron tore Draco away.

"I've done nothing! I didn't do anything to the potion. It must've been you Hermione," Neville insisted, slipping from the circle and moving towards the door. "Leave me alone!"

With a scathing look at Draco, Ginny was fast on his heels.

"What is he hiding?" Hermione mused.

"Hermione, maybe you did miss something. Everyone makes mistakes," Ron said.

Hermione glared at him. "Ron, I'd have to be daft to cause something like this!"

"I'm just saying...." Ron shrugged.

But Hermione only marched off in a huff, incapable of believing she could ever do anything wrong.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you see in that brat?" He asked as they followed Hermione out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron wondered.

Draco didn't even dignify him with a response. It seemed that he was nearly as dull as Longbottom. He was surrounded by imbeciles! And they were supposed to fix all this!

"Hey! Mal -" Ron caught him by the shoulder.

Draco pushed him back. "Listen, my patience is beginning to run thin. Tell your little girlfriend that I'm giving her until the end of the week, and then I'm telling, no matter what the consequences. I'm expected home for Christmas break, and there is no way Potter is going in my place, understood?"

Ron looked ready to retort, but a group of whispering first years scuttled past and he bit his tongue. He instead resigned himself to glare at Draco as they made their way to class.

"Boys! Late again! Well, I won't have you interrupting my class! Read chapter seven in the hallway - and no talking," Flitwick said, motioning them back outside.

In angry silence, the boys slumped to the dusty floor and attempted to read.

"She's not my girlfriend," Ron said after a long while.

Draco snorted into his text. "Still hung up on that? With everything that's going on, you're most offended that I presumed the mudblood was your girl?"

Ron was on him in an instant, wand nearly up Draco's nose. "Her name is Hermione. You will never call her mudblood again, is that clear?"

"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?" Draco shoved him away.

"She's my friend. And Harry's. So if this is going to work you need to treat her that way. With respect. And me as well, in fact. And Neville, he -"
"Potty's friends with everyone isn't he?"

"He, unlike you, wants people to like him, not fear him. So until Hermione figures this out - and she will, by the way - you'd better start being nice to people. All people."

"Well then, Ron, as my first friendly act, let me give you a little advice about girls. If you really like them, insulting their intellect and picking fights is not the way to win them over."

"Like I'd take your advice about girls."

"I've had more girls than you."

"Like who? Pansy?" Ron shuddered.

"Pansy and others. And I'll have you know, the little pug-face gives amazing head."

For a moment, Ron looked positively shocked, his cheeks bright pink.

"What, you and Potty don't have these naughty conversations?" Draco laughed.

"We don't feel the need to share such... details! And besides, I don't want to hear such things from you!"

"Or could it be you don't have any details to share at all?"

"What? I've had my fair share of girls. And it's none of your business who."

"So Hermione puts out after all?"

Ron lunged once more, but Draco dodged away from him.

"I can see what you like about her, I guess, I mean she's got a pretty great rack, and her ass is -"

"Don't talk about her like that!"

"Oh, as if you weren't thinking the same thing!"

If Draco thought Ron was blushing before, he hadn't seen anything yet. The boy was now a shade of mauve unlike anything Draco had ever seen.

"See? You were thinking it, don't lie. So, why haven't you made a move yet? For whatever reason she seems to like you. But who knows? This newfound forced friendship between Hermione and me might make things turn slightly in my favour, what do you think?" Draco chuckled.

"She'd never go for you."

"I wonder if Chang would take Potter back. She's pretty hot...."

"It sure seems there are lots of girls you can't have after all. And now, as Harry, perhaps you'll see that it does pay to be nice to people?"

"I could have anyone I wanted, Weasel."

Ron laughed. "I doubt it. You'll soon realize, Harry, that outside of Slytherin you aren't such hot shit."

Draco was searching for a witty retort when voices echoed up the hall, interrupting his thoughts.

"And now Harry and Ron are going to duel at midnight over who can have Hermione's love," a voice floated from around the corner and met their ears.

"But I heard Hermione is having Ron's baby," another voice proclaimed.

"She is! But she secretly loves Neville, who has been her only friend through these trying times! And Neville adores Ginny, who is prepared to sacrifice herself to save Harry during the duel. But the truth is that Ron would never kill Harry because deep down the two of them are in love and are just using Hermione as a cover to deny their own true feelings!" Two third year girls appeared at the end of the hall, laughing and gossiping.

Draco couldn't resist. He slid to Ron's side, and just as the girls spotted them, grabbed the other boy in a tight bear-hug. "Oh Ron! I'm so glad we're still friends!"

The girls took one look at them and rushed past, muttering excitedly. Ron hastily pushed Draco away.

"Don't touch me," Ron cried, but even he couldn't be outraged for long. Both boys collapsed in wild laughter, until Flitwick appeared in the doorway.

"Get in here if you refuse to work! Ten points from Gryffindor," he shrieked.

Draco controlled his laughter and joined Ron beside Hermione, who was staring at them with a mix of anger and confusion. Draco winked at her playfully and she sharply looked away, leaving him to chuckle to himself for the remainder of Flitwick's lecture.

* * * *

Harry tried to avoid his Slytherin groupies, but by mid-afternoon he found himself in Herbology, faced with an entire double period with ALL of them. After directions from a grumpy Professor Sprout, he soon had Pansy chattering like mad in his ear as they trimmed Moontree Saplings.

"Oh Draco the wedding is sure to be gorgeous! My cousin Matilda has been planning ever since Damien asked her out. I've already owled my parents to ask your parents if you can come to the ceremony. I know your father will be pleased, this connects my family with the Ashton's of Westchester, and that means when we're married, that -"

"When we're married?" Harry asked.

Pansy was quite taken aback. "Of course when!" She stalked off, finding an empty sapling on the other side of the greenhouse.

"You know Draco; you can be a real prat sometimes. And unlike the rest of your friends, I'm not afraid to say it," snapped Millicent Bulstrode, flinging dirt in Harry's direction.

"I'm glad you're not afraid Millicent, because I'm not afraid to say that I think you should shut you fat mouth and mind your own bloody business," Harry retorted.

Grumbling, Millicent stormed out after Pansy. Harry could've laughed. For a moment there, he was actually insulted by Millicent's remark. Harry called Draco Malfoy a prat at least twice a day! His performance, however, seemed to prove convincing.

"We're not scared of you Draco," Blaise insisted. "We just respect you, unlike Pansy."

Harry, however, was beginning to see that this was lie. All the Slytherins did fear him. Lucius Malfoy was high up in Voldemort's ranks, and everyone knew this. Malfoy perpetuated it himself with constant bullying and rude behaviour, even to those who were supposed to be his friends. Harry sighed to himself, wishing he could've switched with anyone else.

After Herbology, Harry had his dreaded Potions class once more. He chose a seat near the back, hoping Snape would just leave him alone. Unfortunately, Snape called on him for the first question of the day.

"Could you tell us, Mr. Malfoy, what we would use to neutralize the Dragon's blood?" Snape called.

Harry was determined to try. "Oh. That's an easy one. Obviously to neutralize something you need a base. And with dragon's blood it must be a, uh, mineral base. So, erm, of course you would use...."

"Diamonds," the girl sitting next to him whispered.

"Diamonds?" Harry tried.

"Correct. Ten points to Slytherin," Snape said. Thankfully this seemed to pacify him, so he moved on to someone else.

"Thanks," Harry whispered.

The girl - a dark haired Slytherin named Paulette - batted her large eyes at Harry.

"No problem. Everyone has their off days," she cooed.

"Please take note on Dragon's blood and diamonds from the textbook. Tomorrow, and for the remainder of the week, we shall be working on brewing this neutralizing solution, so be prepared for lab work," Snape finished, turning his back to the class.

As soon as he was out of range, a mangy-looking Ravenclaw that was sitting across from Harry piped up. "Losing your touch, Malfoy? You'll have to kiss Snape's ass a little more so he'll ask you easier questions."

Without thinking, Harry replied. 'Actually, as any moron would know, that was an easy question; I was just distracted mid-sentence by your ugly mug. Tell me, did you mum drop you on your face as a child or were you just born that way?"

The boy's face flushed with anger and he returned to his textbook, muttering to the girl beside him. Paulette giggled.

Harry instantly felt bad. He hadn't meant to be so rude. But remembering the many times he'd been shunned by the Ravenclaws - in second year when everyone thought him a murderer, and last year when many believed him crazy, he didn't feel so bad after all. He did need to be a convincing Draco, complete with rude remarks. He decided to let it slide, and opened up his text.

"Don't bother, you can have mine," Paulette murmured, sliding notes over to Harry.

"Oh no, that's -" Harry attempted.

"I insist. Besides, I have another copy. I did them last week. But, you have to promise to be my lab partner," she said.

"I promise," Harry said. At least he'd make it through the rest of the week with Paulette's help. Maybe he wouldn't cause Draco to fail Potions after all. What a shame.

Paulette spent the rest of the class gushing over how great Draco was and how excited she was to be his partner. Harry could see how Malfoy could end up so conceited, with everyone always rambling on about his qualities. As class ended, she followed him outside. Harry spotted his 'gang' waiting for him and was tempted to run the other way.

"Bye Draco," Paulette said, walking off.

Blaise gave him an astounded look. "What we're you doing talking to that common filth? I can't believe she ever got in Slytherin. It's debateable whether she's even really pure blood."

Now Harry really didn't know what to say. "We were assigned lab partners. She's not that bad."

They walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts in silence. Clearly, Draco wouldn't ever think someone like Paulette was worthy of his company.

Harry was so distracted that he didn't realize that Gryffindor shared his Defence class until he arrived. Malfoy gave him a nasty glare as he entered the room, Ron and Hermione were barely hiding sympathetic looks, and Neville was strangely avoiding his eye like mad.

Tonks bustled in just as the class was to begin, juggling a large box with one hand. Ever since her injury in the Ministry battle, Tonks had been removed from the Auror squad on sick leave. With no one else to teach, Dumbledore had called on her for a favour. As much as Harry loved her, she just wasn't suited for the job.

The box nearly fell, but Ron saved it. Tonks smiled thanks, rubbing her arm. Harry could see that she was suffering from her wounds still, and it only made him feel guilty. The class wasn't too bad, but he secretly dreaded it more than all his others, even the NEWT Potions class he'd managed to slip into.

"Okay, today we'll be working on protection spells. I want to start you all on some small mental defence methods to ensure you're enemy cannot anticipate you're actions. I have with me Mood Moths. Can anyone tell me what they are known for?" Tonks asked.

Hermione's hand shot up, as did Malfoy's.

"Yes, Harry?" Tonks called.

"They feed off of strong feelings of emotion, releasing an odourless gas that causes increased stress for the person they surround," Malfoy said.

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, your best defence against these creatures is to try and clear the mind of emotion and thought, as we've been practising. To help repel the Mood Gas, a simple wind charm will do. Try to keep them small; however, we don't want a tornado. Now, everyone practise emptying your mind and the wind charm, I'm going to release the moths in a moment," Tonks instructed.

Harry desperately did not want to be there. Sure, he was doing far better at emptying his mind of late - in fact, he usually felt practically empty all the time - but he knew this had nothing to do with magic. He was numb and tired, but underneath at all he could feel his sadness and rage bubbling, waiting to be released.

"Whispering win," Harry muttered, and a small breeze formed around his head. He glanced again at Malfoy and saw him twirling his wand, bored. But then Tonks opened the box and Harry had to focus on himself.

The Moths were black in colour, and much larger than normal, with very long antenna. Several immediately swooped to Neville's side, and he closed his eyes, muttering and looking anxious. Hermione and Ron were able to keep most away, and with Hermione's assistance they soon had a small breeze blowing around them, clearing the air. The moths blew to Draco, where they hovered for a moment. For an instant Harry was certain he saw veiled emotion cross Draco's face.

Is that fear? Anger? Lust?

But before he could tell what it was, it was gone and the insects fluttered away - in Harry's direction. He fought to keep himself cool, but he was beginning to sweat. The bugs grew closer, and Harry was overwhelmed with sadness. Closer still and he felt himself on the brink of despair. The creatures were growing, changing colours. Harry felt a surge of anger. He whispered the wind charm harshly, and a mean breeze blew at the moths, but they fought to remain. He was drowning, dying in the anger, the misery - and he liked it. To feel something, to not be empty, Harry liked it. He grit his teeth, eyes falling on the Gryffindors who were all watching him, entranced. Finally the wind increased, and the moths were blown away. The emptiness returned. They moved on to other Slytherins, until finally Blaise Zabini nearly collapsed from the effort of trying to get rid of them, tears forming as his cheeks blazed red. Tonks hastily lured them back to the box and put them away, assigning notes as she exited, saying something of returning them to Professor Snape.

"Losing you're touch Malfoy?" Seamus asked.

"He's better in this class than you," Malfoy snapped, immediately regretting it by the look on his face. "He, um, is from such a dark family, that if he wasn't, then he'd be tortured by his daddy."

Seamus laughed, and this seemed to satisfy all as an insult instead of a compliment. Harry figured he'd better retort.

"You're just too daft to feel anything Potter," he managed.

"Or too distracted by you're romances," Pansy added.

"Who is he in love with now? Is it the mudblood or the Weasel?" Another Slytherin joined in.

"What awful taste in girls," Pansy cackled.

"I wasn't talking about the girl Weasel," the Slytherin retorted, followed by more laughter.

"I, uh, he doesn't like boys," Harry said, before he could stop himself. "Because if he did he'd be all over me, I mean, look at me."

"Maybe he's got a secret crush?" Pansy wondered.

"I do not!" Malfoy was a little redder than Harry would've liked. "If anything you've got a crush on me!"

Their eyes met, and Harry heard several Slytherins whispering for him to curse, well, himself. And fast. His hand moved for his wand and Malfoy was on his feet.

"Boys! Sit down!" Tonks was back. "Detention for both of you tomorrow. I'll force you two to get along if it's the death of me!"

Harry sank back down, glad he hadn't been forced to do damage to his own body.

Tonks returned to her desk and supervised everyone's note-taking for the remainder of the class. Harry was quite displeased that not only did he have detention that evening, but now the next one as well. He was so peeved he barely noticed Blaise waiting for him after class.

"Draco?"

Harry stopped, reluctantly allowing the other boy to catch up.

"What's up with you?" Blaise asked.

"I'm just having a bad day." Harry averted his eyes.

"I was just wondering if you, um, meant what you said the other night. After the Quidditch party," Blaise said.

"I, uh...." Harry didn't know what to say.

"Because I can't stop thinking about it. And the moths, they only made it worse. I was hoping that if you meant it, I could, I dunno, talk to you about it?"

Oh shit, what did Malfoy say?

"What's on your mind, Blaise?" Harry attempted.

"Well, it's just my dad and mum. They keep sending me these letters, about how soon it will be my turn and how I have to help my father. And I know what they're referring to, and I don't want to join! Why can't I be my own person and do my own thing? You know, like you said, why can't we pursue our own interests and be who we want? And be with the people that we want," Blaise gave Harry a meaningful look.

Harry nearly tripped over his own two feet. He'd heard rumours about Slytherin boys, but surely they weren't true! Draco wasn't like that. He couldn't be! Suddenly, Harry found himself distracted by Blaise's dark brown eyes. He'd never noticed them before. And there was this funny feeling inside he only felt when he played Quidditch. Harry tore his eyes away.

"I, er, I know what you mean, Blaise. It's like there is no escaping our fate. But, I mean, they can't force us to do anything, as much as they try. I bet lots of Slytherins feel the same way. We shouldn't have to, you know? We should all just stop or something," Harry stammered, a billion thoughts running through his head.

Blaise seemed to be satisfied with this response, and with a small smile excused himself to class. Harry shook his head, trying to stop his spinning mind. Okay, so maybe he'd had feelings like this before. Feelings for more than just girls. It didn't mean anything! It was just normal growing-up stuff. So what if every now and then he reflected for a little too long on how good Ron looked in his Quidditch uniform or how hot Dean was when he was shirtless? It didn't mean a thing!

Harry glanced at his watch and realized he was going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures. Trying to forget Blaise, he rushed off to class.

* * * *

It was half-way into History of Magic before Draco realized Neville wasn't in class. He knew that the Gryffindor boy was taking NEWT History because he usually saw him everyday as he came from Care of Magical Creatures and walked towards his own common room. In fact, he usually made a point of tormenting Neville in the hall, hoping to draw Harry into a fight and maybe lose Gryffindor some points. But Neville had been missing ever since Defence class. Draco quickly interrupted Professor Binns droning lecture to ask to go to the loo. Hermione gave him a questioning look, but he ignored her and left.

"Guide me," Draco muttered once he was outside, aware that if he thought hard about Neville, the Finding Charm would show him the way. His wand spun in his fingers and pointed him down the hallway. Sure enough, in a few moments he was outside an empty classroom, and he could hear someone pacing inside. He went in.

"Neville."

The smaller boy looked up, and frowned. "Malfoy?"

"That's right, Longbottom." Draco closed the classroom door behind him. "Why aren't you in class?"

"What, now that you're in Harry's body you actually give a shit about anyone else?" Neville asked.

"Grown some backbone, Longbottom?" Draco approached him.

"I'm not afraid of you Malfoy. Now leave me alone."

"Look, I know you have something to do with the switch, and I think it's about time you told the truth."

"Fuck off." Neville turned away, looking out the window.

"Mood Moths got under your skin, didn't they Neville? Made you all upset... because you already felt guilty, right?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Tell me or I'll curse you."

But Neville pulled out his wand and pointed it at Draco's face. "I dare you to try."

"Don't tempt me." Draco knocked his hand away.

"Must suck to be in Harry's body, huh? To be constantly reminded of his friends, his popularity, and your own failures in those areas."

"If I wanted to kiss everyone's ass like Potter -"

"It's funny, everyone in this school probably dreams of being Harry. Of being such a talented wizard, of being famous and worshipped, but you actually do get to switch with him, and you spend all your time trying to convince yourself you don't like it."

"You wish you could be Potter, Longbottom?"

"As much as you do," Neville sighed.

"I don't. Would you do anything to be him? Even something magical?" Draco questioned.

"Switching spells are complicated. I'm useless at Potions, remember?"

"Rumour has it when Professor Snape isn't breathing down your neck you're actually a pretty good potions maker. And if Hermione had already started, maybe it wouldn't be too hard."

"Hermione would notice."

"She's not as smart as she thinks she is." Draco stepped closer to Neville.

"I didn't do -" he stammered.

"Look, I know a thing or to about Switching Spells. Very dark magic. You added a few things to Hermione's potion, hoping Harry would drink it and switch bodies with you. But something went wrong. So whatever you fed Harry that night, it instead caused him and I to switch somehow. And you know that you caused this, because you're a fuck-up, so that's why you -"

"You wouldn't understand what it's like!" Neville pushed Draco back roughly. "To be pathetic Neville Longbottom, unloved and unwanted. I just wanted a taste of what it'd be like to be Harry." He slumped into the nearest desk.

For the first time in his life, Draco wasn't tempted to insult someone when they were already down. "Look, Neville, if you agree to tell Hermione what you did to the potion, then I won't tell anyone your reasons why, okay?"

Neville gave Draco a long look. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I just want out of this body," Draco said.

But before Neville could respond, Hermione stormed into the room. Apparently he wasn't the only one who knew simple dark charms like the Finding Spell.

"What are you doing Malfoy?" She drew her wand.

"I've solved our little mystery. Neville here thought he'd help Potter with an Improving Charm on the potion you made. It somehow caused the switch," Draco said, well aware that Hermione would believe Neville capable of confusing the ingredients between the two spells.

Hermione looked at Neville. "Do you remember what you did?"

"I can write it down for you," Neville murmured, looking at Draco. "In fact, I'll go do that now." He scurried from the room.

Draco moved to follow.

Hermione stopped him. "How did you know?"

"I'm familiar with how one behaves when they are feeling guilty," Draco said.

"Mal - Draco. Thank you."

"I just want out of this body." Draco again went for the door.

Hermione caught his arm gently. "There's something else. What was going on yesterday? The kiss?"

"I was just trying to start shit."

"Really?"

"What do you want me to say? That you have a hot rack? I'm assuming you already know that given how Weasley constantly stares at it."

Hermione blushed furiously.

"And here's my question - how did you know the Finding Spell?"

"Even Gryffindor's get curious about the dark arts. Call it rebellion."

"Aren't we full of surprises."

"I could say the same thing about you." Hermione gave him a knowing look and left the room without a word.

Reflecting on how this was shaping up to be the weirdest day in his life so far, Draco followed.

The weirdness was far from over. By the time History of Magic ended, Hermione had already written out instructions for everyone to help work on solving the switch. Everyone had been assigned a different section of the library to start looking for a counter-spell.

"But I have detention tonight and tomorrow," Draco complained.

"I'll get your books for you, after detention you can read them," Hermione said. "I doubt you were planning to do Harry's homework."

This may well have been true, but Draco nonetheless complained, as did Ron. Neville, who had been assigned to work with Ginny, remained silent.

"But Hermione, it's actually nice outside," Ron complained. "A perfect chance to practise Quidditch."

The winter rain had finally broken that morning, revealing blue sky. The next game was scheduled for shortly after winter break, and it was against Slytherin, so Draco could see Ron's worry.

"Ron, we don't even have our Seeker," Ginny, a Gryffindor Chaser, chimed in.

"It doesn't matter; we still need lots of work." Ron glanced in Neville's direction. Draco figured Neville had been picked to be a Beater only out of pity from Harry, who was team captain. It had helped the boys round form somewhat... not that Draco noticed how Neville looked.

"Ron this is more important. These kinds of botched spells can have lasting effects. If not dealt with, Harry could be in deep trouble," Hermione said.

"But our team is in deep trouble," Ron insisted.

"Don't you care for you're best friend?" Hermione asked.

"I do! It's just I thought we could study around a short practise," Ron said.

"Ron you are awful! If Harry could hear you now he'd be disgusted," Hermione said.

"I'm sure he'd understand," Ron said.

Ginny shook her head, and stalked away from them with Neville on her heels, leaving Draco to deal with their bickering.

"Just because you only care about yourself -"

"I do not; it's you who's being -"

"Ron, you're such a -"

"Hermione, if you -"

"Why don't you both go fuck already?" Draco snapped, storming away. He didn't get very far.

"There you are Mr. Potter. It's time for your detention with Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall was looming around the next corner.

"But Professor, I haven't had dinner yet, I -"

"No matter, Mr. Potter, it is time. Follow me."

Draco sulkily followed. Harry glanced in his direction once, looked momentarily confused, and then looked away.

McGonagall took them outside, where Hagrid was waiting.

"They're all yours," she said.

Hagrid grinned at them both and led them towards his hut. "I've got a special task fer you two. My fourth years are studyin' Nifflers now, so some gold has ter be buried. I'll be needin' a big pit and sixteen smaller holes."

They were now standing near the forbidden forest, where two shovels lay on an open patch of ground.

"Now hand over yer wands," Hagrid said.

They unwillingly did so, and thankfully Hagrid didn't notice the boys had switched wands.

"Now get digging."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, and then remember Hagrid and Harry were supposed to be friends.

Hagrid lumbered away, calling that he'd be checking up on them as they worked.

They got to work, chipping at the partially frozen ground. Harry was oddly silent, and Draco liked it this way. Then he remembered his latest revelation and decided he'd better share.

"It was Neville. He added to the potion you drank, and then something that night caused us to switch. If you remember anything, dreams, or-"

"Dreamless sleep, for once," Harry responded quickly.

"Well, Granger has already handed out reading assignments," Draco complained.

"That's Hermione for you," Harry chuckled.

"How can you be friends with them? Doesn't the bickering drive you mad?" Draco asked.

Harry sighed. "Sometimes. But they're better than Crabbe and Goyle."

"Hey, those two have always been loyal."

"That's because they're too thick to see that they're being used."

Draco couldn't object to that one. "And speaking of friends, what did you do? I noticed tension between the Slytherins today."

"I associated with a suspected mudblood, can you believe it?"

"Potter! With you're help I'll be the laughing stock of Slytherin."

"I think they only believe in all that shit because you do."

"Their parents do too."

"But some of them...." Harry trailed off.
"What?"

"Did you, uh, say something to Blaise the night before we switched?"

"I was drunk. I don't remember. Maybe."

"Think, Malfoy."

Draco tried to remember that night, but all he saw was blurs. Okay, Blaise had been there. In the dorm room maybe? Draco remembered a bed, but was it his own? "Why? What did he say?"

"That you said that you don't want to become your father."

"I was drunk." Draco looked away. So maybe - every now and then - he thought about what it would be like to not be a Malfoy, to be someone else. But not someone like Harry!

Unless... did I have The Dream that night?

It had happened only once. Draco had dreamed about Harry. In the shower. But he hadn't had it again, had he? He would've remembered. Draco glanced in Harry's direction and was startled to see him removing his shirt. Sweat glistened between his shoulder blades and Draco gulped in spite of himself.

I'm looking at myself. I think I look good, not Potter. Right?!

"Do you remember?" Harry asked, and Draco was suddenly bombarded with an image of Harry... dripping wet and naked.

"Nope! What about you? Remember anything from your night?" He closed his eyes, trying to will the image away.

Harry continued to dig, thinking. Draco realized he was suddenly quite hot, and found himself tearing off his robe and shirt as well. When Harry looked up, Draco was satisfied to see a similar reaction to his own drooling moments ago.

See? It's perfectly normal!

"I, uh, don't remember anything from that night," Harry stammered, nearly falling into his own hole as he moved to dig another.

Draco was too distracted to call Harry on the lie, and tried to dig.

"Malfoy, what did I agree to anyway? You never said," Harry asked after a moment.

It took Draco a moment to realize what Harry was talking about. He grinned cruelly. "You have to lose at Quidditch."

For a moment Harry looked appropriately angry, but then he smiled. "You haven't heard?"

"What?"

"Your Slytherin Beater, what's his name? Goldsneet? Gersneet?"

"Gurpsneet?"

"He's not completing his seventh year. Something about helping his family. After break he won't be back. So they asked me, as captain, what to do. And I agreed we should play this week sometime. Snape's talking to McGonagall right now."

"What?"

"So I can hold true to my end of the deal anyway."

"I'll call it off. I won't win for you!"

"I won't for you!"

"We'll have to throw it then. Injury."

Harry sighed. "You're right. I should fly into you."

"I think I should fly into you."

"No one would believe it. I'm on a Firebolt, remember?"

"Fine," Draco growled, for he could see Hagrid working his way over to them.

"Work harder," Harry hissed. "Hagrid's my friend."

Draco groaned and tried harder, noticing Harry was now barely trying at all.

"Malfoy, work harder," Hagrid said. " 'Arry, can I talk to you?"

Draco dropped his shovel and walked to Hagrid.

"Tell me if the little ferret ain't workin', all right?"

Draco nodded, displeased about the ferret remark.

"And 'Arry, you should know that them Weasley's got wind of yer and Ginny's relationship. You might want ter do somethin' to make it up to them folks. Ginny's a great girl, but don' be givin' in to no temptations, you got more important things ter work on."

Draco could never remember a teacher ever giving him advice. Even Snape, who was bound to him due to his 'friendship' with Lucius, rarely, offered any fatherly words, and of he did, Draco was sure to cut him off early. Hagrid grinned and clapped Draco on the back, nearly knocking him down. Draco wandered back to Harry.

"What was that?" Harry asked, watching Hagrid walk away.

"It seems an apology to the Weasley's is due, seeing how you corrupted their only daughter."

"Oh shit, Malfoy, look what you've done. I'd better write them. Let Ginny know, will you?"

"How can you date that girl? She's really demanding."

Harry averted his eyes. "She's... don't talk about her like that."

"Like what? It's the truth."

"You'd better clear up all those rumours you started," was Harry's only response. The clouds above them covered the setting sun, threatening more rain despite the unseasonable heat.

"What, St. Potter can't have any rumours tarnishing his image? Certainly makes you seem more interesting. You're so full of it," Draco said.

"What on earth are you going on about?" Harry asked.

"You. You're so full of yourself. What a martyr. A hero for the people, right?"

"Not everyone is as narrow-minded as you. Some of us like to -"

"I'm not narrow-minded, I'm particular."

"Snobby."

"Well, what do you expect? I have a family name to uphold."

"Don't you ever get tired of hiding behind your family?"

"Just because Blaise said -"

"It's not just Blaise; it's what all you Slytherins do."

"You do the same thing, and you don't even know you're parents."

"What?" Harry tossed down his shovel.

"Oh please. You're parents, they were heroes, right? So then you figure you should be some kind of hero."

"I don't try to be a hero, I -"

"You always have to save the day, don't you?"

"Well if I didn't...."

"We all could survive without you, Harry. Contrary to your opinion."

Harry scoffed. "You're just jealous!"

Draco was so mad he barely noticed the beginnings of a rain storm forming above them. "If anyone is jealous, it's you!"

"Jealous of what? A dad on the run? A shamed family name? A few 'cronies' instead of friends and a dysfunctional relationship with someone you'll be forced to marry?"

"First of all, my father is only on the run for now, and my name is only shamed to those who don't matter. My friends are loyal and do what I want, and that's all I need from them. And as for Pansy, as soon as my parents are out of the way I'll marry who I want. Besides, even if I do end up with her, only families like the Weasels are ever faithful. I'm gorgeous and rich; I can have whomever I want." Draco lobbed his shovel out of the small pit he was standing in.

"You? Gorgeous? I've taken a look Draco and I'm far better looking than you."

"You must need your glasses even in my body, Potter, because compared to you, I'm fucking Adonis. I could have any girl."

"No girl outside of Slytherin."

"All the others are ugly anyway, but I could have them if I wanted. I could have you if I wanted." Draco immediately bit his tongue, but it was too late.

"Do you want me, Draco?" Harry asked, giving Draco a playful look he'd never seen before.

"You wish Harry," Draco replied, not even noticing the move to first names.

The rain was falling hard now. Draco turned his back on Harry, trying to calm his fluttering heart. Suddenly, something cold and wet his Draco's back. He spun around, and saw Harry clutching a fistful of mud.

"Oh, now you've done it," Draco said.

"I'm supposed to be scared?" Harry tossed the mud at Draco, who ducked and scooped up some of his own. It hit Harry in the shoulder just as Harry threw some more at Draco, getting him in the stomach.

Soon enough, a full mud-war was at hand. Draco smeared mud in Harry's hair, only to be pulled down onto the other boy. Harry flipped him over and sloshed some into Draco's face.

"Ahhh, my eyes," Draco moaned, and Harry paused, still perched atop him. Draco seized his opportunity, and flipped around so he was on top, giving Harry a mud-pie in the face. However, as Harry struggled beneath him, Draco suddenly realized that he was really enjoying himself with Harry just a little too much.

Draco leapt up, a sudden tightness in his pants.

It was just in time.

" 'Ter much rain! You'd better get inside!" Hagrid appeared at the top of their small pit. The boys scrambled out and retrieved their soaked clothes.

"You were fightin'!" Hagrid realized, frowning.

Draco wanted to reply that this light quarrel was nothing compared to their usual fist and hex fests, but decided against it.

"I'll be tellin' Dumbledore 'bout this. You two need to get along!" Hagrid walked off, shaking his head, leaving Harry and Draco to dash inside.

"We were barely fighting," Draco groaned once they were out of the rain.

"More detention," Harry sighed. They reached the stairwell, and with a longing look towards the Gryffindor tower, Harry departed towards the dungeon.

Malfoy rushed back to his tower, eager to be dry. He only paused momentarily at the notice board by the door, where the Quidditch changes were now posted. Angry that his plot had failed, Draco hurried upstairs to clean himself up and think of a new punishment, hoping Harry hadn't noticed the, er, bulge.

* * * *

Harry was certain Draco's body was wired all wrong. When they'd been fighting, Harry had, well, become excited.

He eased into the warm shower, trying to rationalize what had happened. He'd only been reacting to himself, to his own body. It was just too weird to be taken too seriously. But something else was plaguing Harry. He'd had a vision. Well, more like a memory. He'd thought it had been a dreamless sleep that night after the potion, but he was beginning to think he was wrong. He was beginning to remember a dream. Harry glanced down at Draco's naked form, and the images were upon him again. Naked Draco in the Prefect's bathtub.... Harry shook his head. This switch was making him crazy. It was the only explanation.

Once out of the shower and back in his room, Harry was pleased to see Crabbe and Goyle had bullied someone else into completing his homework.

Guess they aren't all bad.

He slipped into Draco's silk robe, planning to get some sleep. A tapping at the window halted his actions, and he was surprised to see Hedwig there. She had a note tied to her leg, and was friendly to Harry, seeming to understand. It was from Hermione, asking him to sneak out at midnight for an update. It was nearly eleven, and Harry crawled behind his curtains just in time for everyone else to come upstairs. But he couldn't sleep, he was too eager to see Hermione. And perhaps a little afraid of what dreams may come to him.

Finally midnight came, and Harry's bunk mates were thankfully asleep. He dashed from the common room and raced to meet Hermione in an astronomy tower broom closet.

"Harry." He was greeted with a warm embrace. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing alright. You?"

"We've figured something out. Neville -" Hermione began.

"Draco told me," Harry said.

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

The air caught in Harry's throat. Since when were they on a first name basis? He couldn't even remember.

"What's your plan?" He avoided her eyes.

"We're all reading like mad, and I'll need your help as well."

"Maybe I can convince Draco's lackeys to help; they don't ask too many questions."

"As long as they don't grow suspicious, it's fine. If Neville's found out...."

"I know. I don't want that to happen."

Hermione handed Harry a book from inside her robes. "I charmed all your reading material into one book. Open it up and they'll separate, close it and it's one."

"Thanks, Hermione. Look, don't let him get under your skin, okay?" Harry insisted.

"I never do." She gave him a fleeting smile and was gone.

Harry decided against tackling his readings in the dorm room, and instead sat down where he was and opened the book. Several other books appeared, and he was suddenly faced with a very daunting task.

Studying is better than sleeping, who knows what dreams Draco's body could inflict on you?

Harry settled back with the first book, and got down to work. It proved to be a long and boring process, reading chapter after chapter of spells, none of them coming even remotely close to what Harry was experiencing. As the night wore on his eyes became droopy. Harry knew he should pack up and head back to his tower... but....

"Harry. There you are." Draco wandered into the broom closet, tall and lean in all his blond splendour.

"Draco." Harry rose to his feet - his own feet - for he was himself once more.

Barely a word passed between them as the boys slowly walked towards each other. They were lost in the moment; eyes locked, and hearts pounding. Harry stepped closer to his enemy, a tingling sensation in his stomach, his head growing dizzy.

"How long I've waited," Draco whispered. And then their lips met, and Harry's tongue was inside his mouth, tasting, enjoying....