Dabbling in the Dark Arts

"Potter, what is Dumbledore's delight?" Snape asked, during one particularly hot potions class.

Hermione's hand immediately shot up into the air; so did Malfoy, looking really pleased with himself. Harry shot a glance at Ron, who shrugged. "I don't know, sir," he admitted.

"Take a guess, Potter," Snape said, "or I'll take five points off Gryffindor."

Hermione shot a panicked look at Harry and mouthed something he couldn't catch.

"Potter!" Snape roared.

Harry didn't know if it was the heat or just the nerves, but he suddenly found himself answering, "Er, women, sir?"

The Gryffindors tried their best not to break into laughter, and the Slytherins were snickering. Harry shot a look at Hermione - she was banging her head against the desk.

"Your cheek has just caused you a loss of five points, Potter," Snape said icily, "and a detention. I expect you here at seven."

Harry twitched uncomfortably; he would miss dinner and Snape knew it.

"Now get into pairs!" barked Snape.

Harry looked at Ron, then at Hermione. Ron gave him an understanding look, pointed at Hermione, and moved next to Seamus. Harry mouthed a "thank you" and gathered his things.

"Women, sir?" Hermione demanded when Harry had joined her.

"I didn't know!" Harry exclaimed. "How should I know what Dumbledore takes a fancy to?"

Hermione looked at him strangely. "Not Professor Dumbledore, Harry. Dumbledore's delight is another name for wolfsbane."

"Oh." Harry grinned sheepishly and flipped through his potions book. "How was I supposed to know that?"

"Because, Potter," a cold voice snapped, "you saw it in your first year." Harry turned around and gulped as he came face-to-face with Snape. "If you were to actually pay attention to your classes, Potter," Snape continued, "instead of lollygaging with your fan club, you might actually have had a decent answer." Shooting one last glare at Harry, the Potions teacher strode over to yell at Neville.

Hermione nudged Harry's ribs, and hissed, "Serves you right. Honestly, Snape has a point. If you paid a bit of attention -"

She kept on scolding him, but Harry wasn't listening. He could only wonder whose side was she on.

*

"He's a bloody git, Harry," Ron said after class. "There's nothing we can do about it."

"Ron, you shouldn't be talking about a teacher like that!" Hermione snapped, linking her arm with Harry's. "Professor McGonagall might hear you."

"He was going to take five points off all the same," Harry said angrily. "It was like being against a wall and having Peeves trying to stab a sword at you."

"And he's making Harry miss dinner," Ron added. "I can't see how you can defend him, Hermione."

Hermione scowled. "I am not defending him."

"Planning on starting G.I.T. - Gratefully Insisting Teachers?" Ron mocked.

Hermione and Harry exchanged a puzzled look. "Ron," Hermione started, "you are aware that makes no sen--"

Ron quieted her with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, the point is, Hermione, you must leave Harry alone. He has a huge Quidditch game this weekend."

"I thought we were going to Hogsmeade this weekend," Hermione said, suddenly lowering her voice. "To see Sirius."

"After the game," Harry said. "Otherwise the whole team will come at me with pitchforks."

Hermione didn't look pleased. "But you hardly get to see Sirius," she said. "You can play Quidditch any time."

Ron and Harry exchanged a shocked look. "Anytime," gasped Ron. "This is the first game against Slytherin!"

Harry gave Hermione a quick peck on the cheek. Hermione's knees almost buckled. It was amazing the effect Harry had on her. One kiss on the cheek made her want to faint; a whole kiss on the mouth practically sent her on to her next life. "Fine," she said.

"Don't worry," Harry assured her. "Right after the game, we'll go straight to see Sirius. Ron will already have the invisibility cloak with him."

Ron shook his head. "Really, Harry," he said with a chuckle, "she can't resist you."

*

Harry quickly walked down one of the dungeons' corridor. He was cold, hungry and angry. Angry at Snape, angry that he was missing dinner, and angry that he couldn't be with Hermione.

"Come in," a voice said as Harry knocked on the door to Snape's office. Doing as he was told, Harry stepped in scowling, but his scowl quickly faded when he saw who else was in Snape's office. "Professor Dumbledore," he stammered.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "We were just waiting for you."

Harry prayed that Snape hadn't told him about his answer in class; he really didn't need the rumor to be spread throughout the entire staff.

"Harry, we have an important matter to discuss. Please take a seat," continued Dumbledore. "We've heard that some Death Eaters have been staying at Hogsmeade - "

"Is Sirius alright?" Harry asked suddenly.

"You do not interrupt the Headmaster, Potter," Snape said.

"It's quite alright, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Sirius is fine, Harry. What we're worried about is you. Apparently some sources have informed me that the reason they're here is to try and kidnap you; take you over to Voldemort."

Harry looked puzzled. "But, sir, while you're here." Harry took a pregnant pause, trying to clear his thoughts. "While you're here, sir, they won't try anything, will they?"

"They might, Harry," said Dumbledore not looking at all pleased. "So lately all the teachers have been trying to see what means of magic we can use to protect you." Harry wondered if all the teachers included Snape. The named professor was looking quite pale and kept staring at Dumbledore. "Harry, do you know what a switching potion is?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape snorted as Harry answered "no".

"It's quite like the Polyjuice Potion, only it lasts for a length of three months," Dumbledore explained. "Two people take it and transform into each other. It's much more complex than Polyjuice. Actually it was created by two of the Professors here at Hogwarts."

Harry automatically looked at Snape. "But, Professor, who will I turn into?" he asked. "Who will turn into me?"

"Ah, yes. You see that was quite a difficult thing to figure out." Dumbledore looked too amused; and Harry didn't like that. "We couldn't have you drink the potion with Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger; they could be likely candidates for Voldemort as well. We could turn you into a quieter student - perhaps one from Ravenclaw - but then we would have to get them involved. Then we decided a teacher would be the simplest thing to do. Now, the question was which teacher." Dumbledore grinned, as if waiting for Harry to guess.

Harry eyed Snape suspiciously. Please let him be wrong. "Professor Snape," he said, barely above a whispered.

"I told you he was a bright boy, Severus," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. Snape looked murderous, but didn't say a thing.

"So, you will take the potion tonight, have a good night's sleep, and begin your life as someone else tomorrow," Dumbledore instructed. He pulled out two vials from a small leather bag. They were a bright purple color and, when Dumbledore removed the plug from each one, a yellow, wispy smoke invaded Harry's nostrils.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, handing the vial to the boy, "you mustn't say anything to anyone. The only ones who will know are Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and I. Not a word to anyone, not even Sirius."

"Why not Sirius?" Harry asked, finding this quite unfair.

"Sirius is currently on the run from the Ministry, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "Also it seems Voldemort thinks he might be useful for the Death Eaters. If they found Sirius and used Veritaserum on him, he could tell them about you and the potion."

"Professor, are you sure this is the safest thing for me?" Harry asked. The potion smelled strangely like cheese and grapes.

"Trust me, Harry. If there were another way for us to keep you safe..." Dumbledore trailed off uncomfortably. "Drink up you two!"

"Surely there's another way, Albus?" Snape said, looking suspiciously at the potion.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said.

Harry took one last look at Snape, and downed the potion. It tasted sour, like lemons or oranges. It left a raw flavor in his throat. Harry stomach complained, but besides that he didn't feel anything different.

"This. Is. A. Nightmare," a boy's voice said icily. A voice that sounded familiar.

Turning around, Harry looked at his reflection - no, not a reflection - it was Snape. The potion had affected him already. Black, messy hair, green eyes, skinny body - it was all there. Everything the same, except that his -- Snape's? - face held a small frown.

"Did it work?" Harry croaked, but it wasn't his everyday voice. Harry had always heard the older students talking about how their voice matured, and it had happened to him once or twice, but now this just spooked him.

"Excellent," Dumbledore commented. "I'll leave you two to get used to your bodies." And he left, chuckling to himself. Harry wondered if there were really Death Eaters in Hogsmeade, or if this was just for Dumbledore's amusement.

Snape walked across the room and sat at the chair by his desk. Harry thought that if a Slytherin were to come in right now, it would be a very, very peculiar picture.

"Tomorrow you have class with the first years," Snape was saying. "They only have to make a simple dreaming potion. You can find the instructions in here." He took a book out from one the drawers and laid it on the desk. "They shouldn't give you any problems. You have the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs first. After lunch come the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Besides that you have the whole day free," continued Snape, taking a deep breath. "Is there anything I should know about you?"

Harry gulped. Even though he was technically the teacher here, and Snape the student, he still felt intimidated. Why did this have to happen to him?

"Er - no, I don't think so," Harry said, trying to recall his classes. "You have Defense tomorrow morning. My homework is on my bed." Snape didn't look amused. Harry sighed. He wouldn't be able to talk to Ron or Hermione or - Hermione! "Professor, it's - er - Hermione Granger," Harry stammered. "She's my - that's is --"

Snape looked even paler, and said, "Potter, please tell me that you and Ms. Granger are not dating."

Harry flushed; he would have paid every galleon in his Gringott's account to see what Snape looked like flushed, but right now wasn't the time. "Yes, sir," he muttered.

Snape banged his head against the desk. "I'm in no mood to relieve a bunch of teenage hormones," he hissed to himself.

Harry looked curiously at him, but decided it was wiser not to say anything.

"Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Oh no. Oh no."

"What is it, Potter?" demanded Snape. Please, please, don't let him say he and Granger were suppose to sleep together this weekend, he begged.

"Quidditch," Harry said. "I have a Quidditch game this weekend!"

"I can handle it, Potter," Snape said calmly. He thanked whatever deity was watching over him.

"You've played Quidditch before?" Harry asked surprised.

"I was Chaser during my Hogwarts years," Snape said, looking proud.

"It's not the same," wailed Harry, oblivious to how wrong his - Snape's - voice sounded. "I'm Seeker!"

"I. Can. Handle. It," Snape growled.

"Fine," Harry said. "I expect you need the password to the Gryffindor Common Room." Snape nodded. "It's 'fairy tulip'," Harry said. Seeing Snape confused, he added, "Hermione got to choose it; she's the prefect."

"Ah, yes, her and Mr. Thomas," Snape said. "My dormitory is at the end of this office," he explained pointing towards the darkest corner. "The password is 'serpiente'. Just say it to Madam Gi."

Harry had no idea who Madam Gi was, but he took a wild guess that it was a portrait or something similar.

"If you need anything," continued Snape, "there's a small bell next to the bed. Ring it and a house-elf will come. If you need to talk to a teacher, there's a jar with powder in it next to the fireplace. Throw it in and call the name of the teacher. Have I made myself clear, Potter?"

Harry rapidly answered, "Yes, sir."

Snape pointed towards a blue stack of papers. "This," he indicated, "are the schedules. They include Quidditch games and teacher meetings. I'm sure you know where the staff room is?" Harry nodded. "In the third drawer to your left, there is a stack of green papers. You will find the name to each student there." Snape paused and rubbed his temples. "Potter, you have to play my part well. This means you must take points off Gryffindor in class, and give points or praise the Slytherins."

Harry nodded. "About that, sir," he said, "you also have to play my part well. Other Gryffindors might not notice, but Ron and Hermione will."

Snape nodded, and headed out the door. "'Night, Potter," he bid.

Harry slumped into a chair. This was not one of his best days, and it would surely not be one of his best three months. He couldn't understand why Dumbledore thought Snape was the best option; Snape loathed him. Anyway, Harry didn't know how to act like Snape. Sure he could pull the greasy git bit, but what about classes? Or teacher meetings? McGonagall and Dumbledore might help him, but what if Hagrid or Remus noticed something strange? And if he didn't screw up, Snape might.

Harry had always pictured him having a dark childhood, torturing Muggles and working for Voldemort. It wouldn't help him if it came out in the Daily Prophet: Boy-who-lived killing Muggles.

Picking up the potions book to go over the dream potion for the first years, Harry headed towards the back of the office. It seemed to get colder, and a musky smell filled his nose.

"Hullo, Severus," a chirpy voice greeted. Harry almost fell down in shock. Giving him a flirty, puppy-dog look, was a painting. Well, the woman in the painting. She had long blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, she could have been around twenty to thirty years old.

"Madam Gi," Harry said politely, hoping this was the only painting Snape had.

Madam Gi, because indeed that was her, giggled. "How are you, darling?" she purred. "Hard day?"

"Absolutely dreadful," Harry agreed. "Bunch of dunderheads those fifth years," he added for good measure.

Madam Gi gave him a sleek smile. "Don't want to chat?"

"Er, no thank you," Harry stammered. What was the password? Oh - "Serpiente!"

The painting giggled again and swung open, allowing him to get past. Harry wondered how Snape could stand her.

Harry took a good look around Snape's bedroom. It was large and draped in Slytherin colors. There was a small corridor that Harry guessed led down to a bathroom. There were no windows in the room and Harry wondered how Snape received any air. Well, he'd better get used to this.

*

Snape walked away from the dungeons. How could Albus have given him Wonder Boy's problems? Didn't he have enough problems himself? No, let's forget about the spy whose life is in danger. Why did Albus make him change bodies with Potter? His life was not much safer.

Snape stared at the Fat Lady and wondered if he should actually go in. He hoped Weasley and Granger had already gone to bed, he didn't feel like talking to them - ever. Or at least for three months.

"Coming in?" the Fat Lady asked, yawning.

"Er, yes," Snape said. "Fairy tulip."

"That's right," the Fat Lady said with a grin, and let him get through.

"Harry!" two voices said in sync.

Snape looked at the floor as Weasley and Granger approached him. Weasley's hair was a mess, and Granger had a blue ink mark on her cheek.

"What did that oily git make you do?" Weasley asked. Granger rolled her eyes and nudged his ribs painfully.

"You were gone for a long time," Weasley continued, throwing Granger a look. "Did he make you clean rats' brains or something?"

"No, I just had to clean Long - Neville's mess," said Snape, irritated. How dare that little worm call him an oily git!

"You see," Hermione said, shaking her head. "If you had actually paid attention in class you could have answered Snape's question."

Ron winked at Snape and said in a stage whisper, "She fancies him, mate. You've got competition."

Snape looked appalled, and stared at Granger, who was attempting to hit Weasley with one of her books. "He's lying," she stated afterwards. "Just because I pay attention in class doesn't mean I fancy Snape, Ron. Honestly!"

Ron gave her a cheeky grin, then looked at Snape. "Yes, yes, I know," he said throwing his hands up in defeat. "I'll leave you two to your goodnight snog." And with a wink, he left towards the boys' dormitory.

Goodnight snog? thought Snape, looking nervously at Granger. Potter did not mention any of this.

"He's just being a prat," Granger muttered. "You look tired."

"I am," Snape said.

Granger smiled fondly at him and suddenly gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Don't let Snape get you down," she said, gathering her books, and heading up to her own room.

Snape stared at her, and shook his head. Just what he needed, a kiss from Potter's girlfriend. Deciding he'd better get some rest, he headed up towards the boys' dormitory.

"Finished?" Weasley asked when he came into the room. Longbottom, Finnigan and Thomas were all flashing him grins. Teenage hormones, Snape reminded himself.

"Always knew you'd end up with Hermione," Finnigan said, hitting his arm playfully. This annoyed Snape.

"Have you shagged her yet?" Thomas asked, giving him a wink.

"Leave him alone," Weasley said defensively, placing an arm around Snape's shoulders. "It's time he got a girl."

Snape shrugged Weasley's arm off. "Sod off," he snapped.

Longbottom laughed. "Don't worry, Harry. Hermione's nothing to be ashamed of. She's the smartest witch in all of Hogwarts!"

"Hear, hear!" the three other boys said, breaking into hysterical laughter.

Snape had to stop himself from asking what they had taken. "I'm going to bed," he groaned. He wished this was just all a dream, a dreadful, dreadful dream.

"'Night, Harry," muttered Weasley.

Severus muttered something incoherent and looked at the five beds curiously. Which one was Potter's?

"Something wrong, Harry?" asked Longbottom. Severus almost snorted when he saw the chubby boy in a pair of blue cotton pajamas with little white circles.

"No," Severus said. Which one was his bed?

"Alright, good night," Longbottom muttered, crawling into one of the beds. One down, four to go.

As if luck was on his side, Thomas threw his school robes on another bed, and said, "G'night, Harry." He chuckled and gave him a wink. "Hope you dream of Hermione."

"Leave him alone," Finnigan said lazily and took the other bed. There were two left. One was Potter's and the other one Weasley's.

Severus looked at both of them. There was nothing to tell the difference except - hadn't Potter said his homework was on his bed? Checking the bed nearest to the window, and found a single piece of parchment on it. That was all his homework? Severus rolled his eyes and laid it aside.

"'Night, Harry," Weasley said from somewhere on his left.

"'Night, Weas - Ron," Severus answered, immediately falling asleep.