OK well this is my first fan fiction and I'm kind of nervous, though I don't know why I've done much scarier than publish a story online….have you ever been to the Great Fissures in Yosemite? And like, looked over the side? Yeah. That's scary. But I hope you like it and I hope I did JK Rowling justice, although I doubt she would ever publish anything as crazy as this!
Disclaimer: Know it's been said many, many times before, by many, many people, but I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. Also I don't own anything in this story that I don't own, just as a backup.
Chapter One: Nightmare Gone Wrong(ish)
Moonlight filtered through the wide windows of the boy's dormitory, illuminating millions of swirling dust motes and reflecting off the scratched, circular lenses of Harry Potter's glasses. Though Neville was snoring at an earsplitting volume, and Ron was spazzing peacefully in the bed next to Harry's, he could not sleep, and he was afraid if he did, the nightmares would come back. And if the nightmares came back, Snape would know. And if Snape knew….well, it's not as if Occlumency lessons could get any worse. But it would complicate things. With Hermione as well…didn't she realize how hard this was for him even without her nagging?
At that moment, Ron started sleep-talking. "No….no…more bananas…STOP ATTACKING ME!" Harry, startled, sat up, as did a grumbling Seamus and Dean.
"Just as we got used to Neville," Seamus sighed, shaking his head. They looked to Neville, who was still asleep and drooling a little. But their gazes were ripped from the chubby little boy as Ron started flailing his arms. One hand groped for his dresser, landing on his wand. Reflexes still groggy, none of the boys did anything in time to stop the bright white, crackling beam of light that shot out at Harry. Harry flinched, but a small part of his brain reminded him that this was Ron, and for as impressive as the lighting looked, it probably wouldn't do any real harm.
Oh how wrong he was.
Professor McGonagall was about to turn into bed. Placing her empty cup of tea on her desk and marking the last essay on metamorphagi with an E and a scribbled, generic comment about how beautiful the words flowed together and just how unique the thesis was (although, in reality, she had read ten just like it). Standing up and stretching, she became suddenly aware of a steady pounding in the corridor…unmistakably, hurried footsteps. A cry of "hurry up!" rang through the hall, and the muffled sounds of bedroom slippers on stone grew closer. Wondering what on earth could be going on, she opened the door to confront the students and was almost run over by a desperate and scared looking Dean and Seamus. "Pro-pro-professor….Harry…Ron…they…"
"Spit it out, Seamus," She commanded strictly. If this was another contest to see who could eat the most Cockroach Clusters…
"Well Ron was….well, having this dream…and in his sleep he grabbed his wand and cursed Harry!" Seamus gulped, almost expecting punishment from this harsh and tired professor.
"Did you see what happened?" McGonagall asked, beginning at a brisk pace back towards the common room. Seamus and Dean jogged a few steps to keep up.
"Well, no. See, professor, they both fell back asleep," Seamus admitted, abashed.
"And you saw fit to leave them there? Were they asleep, or unconscious, can you tell me that, either of you?" She scolded angrily.
"Neville's there, professor," Dean interrupted hopefully.
"Nice try, Thomas, but I've seen Neville sleep through more than a curse before," McGonagall said in her hurried and almost amused fashion. Behind the teacher's back, Seamus gave Dean a what-was-that gesture and mouthed really? That was then they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
But Dean and Thomas had missed something. Ron and Harry knew exactly what the curse had done. After the spell had worked its magic, in the brief moment where Ron had awakened and grasped what he had done, the two boys had shared a look that only best friends know, where it seems the other's mind is open to yours and yours to them, and you both jump to the same conclusion. Harry and Ron, having switched bodies, shared a look that said, let it go. Harry, in Ron's too-small maroon pajamas, fell back on the pillow and feigned sleep. Ron, with the bizarre sensation of Harry's glasses sliding down his nose, did the same. They didn't know what this would get them into, but they knew it could only mean one thing—adventure.
(AN: When referring to the character that has Harry's personality in Ron's body, I will say Harry, and when referring to Ron in Harry's body, I will say Ron, unless it is another, unknowing character's viewpoint of the two.)
The two boys, hiding in their exchanged bodies, blinked their eyes open to the bright light of the lumos radiating from the grey-haired lady's wand, held at chest level in the doorway. "Potter. Weasley. Explain yourselves," she said shortly.
"Well, I—I mean, Ron, was having a bad dream, and started yelling something—something about marshmallows" Ron explained, catching Harry's eye for encouragement. Harry nodded behind McGonagall's back at Ron's job of explaining himself, although his recollection was that Ron had been bawling about bananas, not marshmallows. "And grabbed his wand and shot light at me. It didn't actually do anything." he added, maybe too quickly.
"Marshmallows? Weasley," she swished around tersely to face Harry. "I don't believe the curse did anything, but maybe you should see someone about these dreams." She advised curtly.
"Right, professor," Harry replied grimly. It was ironic that he, Harry, not Ron, was currently seeing someone, a very specific someone, actually, about troubling deliriums.
"And you two, next time one of your roommates is—ah, disturbed, be sure to investigate yourselves before bothering me." An irked expression on her lined face, she glared at the downwards-turned heads of Seamus and Dean. Without another word, Professor McGonagall took her cue to leave.
"Sorry for the bother, mates," Seamus apologized. "But I could've sworn that curse did something off—like, it seemed to almost eat the two of you"
"Right. Well, that's coming from the bloke who's blown up 53 items to date, and still can't turn water into rum," Ron said. He wouldn't have been so rude except for the fact that he was on the defensive. Seamus, slightly depressed and definitely suspicious, shook his head and clambered into his four-poster, falling asleep to the music of Neville's heavy snores.
Ok so you know when you're printing a paper for school or work or whatever, and then you notice a mistake? Well I published this and then forgot to add this little author's note at the end. Woops. So anyhoo, here's the story...thanks for reading and thanks if you review (which would be appreciated...need...boost...of ...self...confidence...or, if you wish to critique). I left this chapter open to go in several directions, I'm not sure where it will take me. If you have anything you want to happen, feel free to put it in a review! Special thanks to my editor, inspiration, and friend, pen name Tiki O'Toole (read her stuff...it's great...). Will post next chapter soon-hopefully within the week! See you then!