Hello (:
A really weird story idea – one that just popped into my head. Hope you like it, and review if you want me to continue.
For CatrinaBoFi, who I miss ;( She's in America at this moment. And where am I? Whangaparaoa, I bet No-one knows where that is.
Is J.K Rowling from Whangaparaoa? I don't think so.
-The Idea-
"I'm sick of this crap!"
Said my best mate, Scorpius Malfoy, slamming down his bag and plonking himself beside me at the breakfast table.
"What is it now Scorp? Hounded by little girls again?"
He rolled his eyes at me.
"No." He shook his head and I returned to my copy of the Daily Prophet, ignoring the main article about my Dad, and brother . . .
"Hello!" He said, waving his hand in front of my face.
"I'm listening." I grumbled, putting my newspaper down.
"I hate my life." He said, with resignation.
I scoffed. As if. "You hate your life?"
"That's what I said, didn't I?"
"Yeah?" I questioned.
"Then that's what I meant."
"Care to explain why?" I asked, studying his face.
"I'm just sick of having to live up to a reputation."
"Ha! Try having 'The Chosen One' as a Dad." I shook my head and grabbed some toast.
"Yeah, but that's a good thing to live up to. Today I tried to help a Third Year pick-up her books and she asked me if I was on first name terms with Fenrir Greyback! And then she told me to say 'hi' to the Dementor's for her!"
"Yeah, but that's a one off mate! Everyone expects me to be brilliant at Quidditch super brave and good at Defence!"
"Like those are bad things once again!" He rolled his eyes at me.
"Don't act like you don't like being a 'bad boy', you've got a following Scor-"
"Well maybe I'm sick of it? Look at this!"
He grabbed the newspaper out of my hands.
"'Though Lucius Malfoy is still in jail, Narcissa's sentence has been shortened dramatically. She will be out by this November. And what are her plans? Perhaps to met her only grandson, Scorpius Malfoy, a young man out to change the world's view on Malfoy's'-"
"That's not that bad Scor, at least it say's your out to change the world or whatever." I said trying to be sympathetic.
"Hmm, you're just saying that cause its not you're family in the paper."
"Can you read mate?" I held up the Prophet in front of his face.
He couldn't possibly miss the headline talking about James's success at the ministry.
"Hmpf." Was his reply.
"I still got it worse mate. Instead of getting fan girls like you-" He snorted, "I get ones asking for my dad's autograph."
"I'd prefer that!"
"No you wouldn't mate. I never get dates." I said honestly, waiting for a reply – which I didn't get. So I kept eating, before breaking the silence.
"And my name is Albus Severus Potter. Albus Severus, that's got to be the worst name since, well forever."
He choked on his pumpkin juice.
"I know a worse name. Scorpius Hyperion. Who the hell would give their kid the name Hyperion? How screwed up is that?"
"It's better then Severus."
"Scorpius Severus sounds alright, just not Hyperion-"
"- Scorpius Severus does not sound alright! It sounds like a disease-" I said, shaking my head at my friend.
"- So you admit my names stupid?" He said smirking.
"No! Scorpius Severus sounds stupid, but that's not even you're name!"
"Er, right." He said scratching the back of his head, thinking it through.
I ignored the strange looks we were getting from our fellow Slytherin's, but decided to be a bit more subtle wit the rest of our ridiculous argument.
"I'd rather be you mate. I'm sick of being told how I have my 'Father's eyes' which are actually his 'Mother's eyes'."
"And I'm sick of being told I'm Draco Malfoy reincarnated!"
I raised my eyebrows.
"I still think I've got it worse."
He shook his head.
"No way mate! If you were me you'd get it. You'd realise you-" He stopped abruptly.
"You what?" I asked as he sat there, wide-eyed and apparently in thought.
"That's it!" He said triumphantly, accidentally knocking his cutlery on the floor in enthusiasm.
"What's it?" I asked, bewildered.
"You and me Al, we're gonna swap!"
"You're mental." I said, looking at him frowning. "I think we should head to the Hospital Wing, you're not actually making sense."
"It makes perfect sense Al! Listen, we both want the opposite to what we have, and you and me, we are exact opposites!"
I tilted my head in consideration.
Son of Death Eater, son of Chosen One.
Black hair, blonde hair.
Green eyes, grey eyes.
Famous, infamous.
I looked back to Scorp to see he was smirking.
"I've always wanted a big family, and you have plenty going to spare-"
I could do with space from the Weasley/Potter clan . . .
"-We can just swap for a day or whatever, and then longer depending on how it goes."
"Calm down mate. You sound too excited." I looked at him sceptically. Before giving in somewhat. "Now, if I was to agree to do this ridiculous thing, how would we 'swap'?"
He grinned.
"If you're going to be me for a while, you're gonna have to act a lot smarter mate."
xXx
And that was how Scor and I ended up in some random girl's bathroom brewing up a Polyjuice Potion. Crazy? Yes. Dumb? Well, I'm undecided right now.
But according to Scor, its nearly ready (the potion), it should be we've had to wait a month . . . anyway, we're planning the 'swap' for next Monday.
And saying I was nervous would be the understatement of the century, as in what the bloody hell am I doing?
I am not or will not be a convincing Malfoy. I can't act for crap!
Hell, I can't even fool my four year old cousin Lucy.
What did you think? Please tell me! Next Chapter will be up asap. And there will be some Rose (: Promise.
. Still in Whangaparaoa . . . GAH!
Anyone pick up the song title in the last section? No? Probally not. A small band called the Mint Chicks . . .
X Potty.
