Plot Summary: DG. Harry hasn't been behaving normally since after dinner, and Ginny is determined to find out just happened to Harry Potter. Based slightly on canon. One-shot.

Polyjuice Potion can be really... fun at times. Right? Another one-shot written in the wee hours of the morning. How I wish I could polyjuice into someone else and skip school for just one blessed day.

Disclaimer: The name on the spine of the Harry Potter books definitely isn't mine.

You Aren't Harry, Are You?

Gryffindor Common Room, 8.20 pm

To see Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley sitting together by the blazing fire in the Gryffindor Common Room was a very common sight. The three of them were the best of friends, and they were always comfortable with each other, no matter what they were doing. Even after Ron and Hermione had gotten together in their sixth year, Harry had wholeheartedly approved, partly because he had also become Ginny Weasley's boyfriend, and he didn't want Ron to break his nose every time he saw Harry snogging his young and innocent baby sister.

So, whyhad Harry Potter's eyes nearly popped out when Hermione and Ron started to whisper sweet nothings to each other, and why was hen ow squirming in his bright red armchair as he buried his face in a book while his best friends had quickly progressed to snogging on the nearby couch? So far, Harry had hid his shock and surprise quite well, but Ginny was his girlfriend, after all, andshe knew when Harry wasn't acting normally, especially if the book he was hidden behind now was Hermione's Ancient Runes textbook.When had Harry started to behave weirdly? Oh yes, Ginny thought, it had all started after dinner.

The Great Hall, dinnertime, 7.30 pm

Dinner was ending soon, and the various kinds of puddings were being served. Ron Weasley was just tucking into his third helping of Yorkshire pudding when Harry put down his fork and spoon and stood up.

"Hey guys, I need to go to the washroom for a moment, OK? I'll meet you after dinner in the Entrance Hall," he told his two best friends, and when Hermione started to stand up, Harry groaned. "No, Hermione, you don't have to follow me. I'm perfectly safe inside a Hogwarts washroom, and I don't think that Voldemort will be waiting for me inside. Unless you want to follow me inside the toilet?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows, and Ron promptly choked on his food. Pudding spewed everywhere.

"Dun make 'vances on m' girlfriend, 'Arry!" he managed to get out with his mouth still half-full of food, and Harry just sniggered while discreetly wiping away bits of pudding from his black school robe as he went out of the Great Hall.

Across the Hall, at the Slytherin table, a blond boy quietly got up, signaling his two cronies to continue eating, which they were only too happy to obey. Then the boy checked that the potion vial was still in his robe pocket, and then slipped out of the Hall. It's the best opportunity you'll ever get to spy on the Gryffindors, Draco Malfoy, he told himself. The Dark Lord will be pleased if you bring him some information.

Outside the male washroom, 7.40 pm

Harry whistled as he walked out of the male washroom. Suddenly, there was a loud "ping!" behind him, and instinctively, he turned around to see what had happened. At that moment, he distantly heard someone cry, "Stupefy!" before his world turned black.

Once Harry had collapsed onto the ground, Draco Malfoy immediately hurried up, grabbed the other boy's collar, and dragged him to a nearby broom closet. Looking furtively around to see if anyone was there, Draco opened the closet door, stepped inside and deposited Harry down roughly. With a flick of his wand, the door closed silently. He blew out his breath and rubbed his arms. Harry looked so small and thin, but he certainly was heavy enough for Draco.

He checked his watch and cursed. The rest of the Golden Trio would probably be heading out of the Great Hall now. Without wasting anymore time, Draco uncorked a vial that he had taken out from his pocket, plucked a hair out from Harry's head, and dropped it in. The potion frothed and bubbled, and turned an emerald green soon after. Eying the green mixture with distaste, Draco gingerly lifted it to his lips, and downed the foul-tasting concoction in one go. Then he muttered a charm to change the crest on his robes and the colour of his tie to that of a Gryffindor's.

After a while, Harry Potter exited the broom closet and muttered the most complex locking charms he knew. The wide smirk that was firmly plastered on his lips looked extremely out of place on Harry's face, and if any student had passed by then, she would probably have screamed bloody murder and run to tell Headmaster Dumbledore that Harry Potter was being possessed by the Dark Lord.

Entrance Hall, 7.50pm

Ron was already impatiently tapping his foot on the stone floor when a panting Harry rushed up.

"What happened to you, mate?" he asked. "That trip to the toilet took you almost twenty minutes!"

Damn damn damn damn damn, Draco thought frantically. I can't very well tell them I've kidnapped their Chosen One and polyjuiced into him, can I? Thinking fast, he said, "Oh, I met that stupid Peeves on my way there, and he bombarded me with stink bombs. So I had to spend a long time getting that really bad smell off." For extra effect, he put on a disgusted expression on his face, and wrinkled his nose. Thankfully, his little story was believable, as Peeves hadn't in the Great Hall, and even Hermione wouldn't go and ask Peeves for confirmation.

They believed him readily, and set off towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Still, Ginny, who was with them, had a nagging feeling that something was not right. Maybe it was because that disgusted expression on Harry's face made him look just a little like Draco Malfoy.

The four of them walked in pairs, with Ron and Hermione in front, and the other two behind. The story of how Harry and Ginny had gotten together after a Quidditch match was hot fodder for the school gossips, and so Draco was not surprised at all when Ginny fell into step beside him. Still, somehow he didn't like the fact that such a pretty pureblooded girl had chosen that midget of a boy who would probably killed sooner or later, and felt an unexpected stab of emotion that he squashed immediately. Sure, she was one of those Weasleys, but she was almost acceptable for one. At least she wasn't loud and obnoxious like her many brothers, did well in her studies, and wasn't as easily provoked as her brother. She would usually ignore taunts and sneers about the state of her second-hand robes and books, until she was irritated enough to respond. But when she finally responded, it was usually rather vicious, and was always something very unpleasant. Draco rubbed his head unconsciously. He hadn't forgotten that Bat-Bogey Hex from last year.

Almost absently, he wondered how he was going to hold a proper conversation with her without letting anything slip. As if Ginny knew what he was thinking, she spoke.

"Harry?"

There was an awkward pause, as Draco nearly sneered at the very mention of the name Harry. After six years, sneering at Harry Potter and anything that was even remotely associated with it had become almost instinctive. Then he remembered that he was Harry Potter.

"Yes?" he asked.

"How was your detention with Snape yesterday?"

Detention with Snape? When did Snape ever give him detention? Oh. Right. he thought, but as he wasn't the one who had gone for the detention, how could he answer her? Well, I'll just have to give non-committal answers, then. "Bad. The cauldrons to scrub this time were caked with some green goo." He winced inwardly. Green goo? Was that the best he could come up with? "Snape's a-" what had Potter called Professor Snape once? "greasy git, as always." Yes, that was a perfect answer.

That's strange, Ginny thought. I thought Harry said this morning that Snape made him dry newt tails instead of the usual scrubbing? Then again, maybe she had remembered wrongly, so she decided to leave it at that.

In front of the Fat Lady, 8pm

The four of them had stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. That's interesting, Draco told himself. I've passed by this portrait before, but I never knew that it was the entrance to the Gryffindorks' common room. He was unaware that he was staring off into space until Ron nudged him.

"Harry, what's the password? McGonagall changed it today, and I haven't found out what it is yet... Harry? Are you listening to me, mate? Harry!"

"Huh? Oh. Erm...yeah? What happened?" Draco, who was jerked out of his thoughts, responded. Ron gave him a strange look. "Are you OK? You looked rather... spaced out just now. Anyway, I was asking you what the password was."

Oh shit. "Um...uh...er...well..."

"Honestly, don't the two of you know what the password is? You should make it a point to find out from someone- what if you wanted to enter and no one was around? It's Blast-Ended Skrewt." For once, Draco was actually grateful to that insufferable know-it-all that was Granger.

Then they stepped into the common room.

Common Room, 8.03pm

Draco tried to prevent himself from gawking at the Gryffindor common room. It was high up in a tower, which was bad enough for him- he hated heights, but it was also decorated in over-bright and gaudy colours, and he was nearly blinded by the shocking red and gold that covered almost every surface possible. Whoever who did this is a really bad interior designer, he thought. Then again, I don't think Dumbledore or McGonagall have good taste. Especially Dumbledore. Who wears lime-green robes covered in stars and moons?Ugh. Draco much preferred his own common room down in the dungeons, where the temperature was just cool enough for him. It was miles away this overly warm, stuffy place, and the Slytherin common room had an understated, cold elegance.

The Weasel and the Mudblood immediately moved to the seats near the fire –their usual spot, he mused- and settled down. Draco chose the red armchair that had the most faded colour, and tried to look as if he was totally comfortable in the lion's den.

Over the next twenty or so minutes, he did his best to find out more about Dumbledore and what his Order of the Turkey did, but apparently the two lovebirds were kept completely in the dark, 'for their own safety', to quote Granger, and 'we're too young to help out, anyway,' courtesy of Weasley. Draco couldn't hold back a slight sneer. Even the Dark Lord gave the young, newly recruited Death Eaters things to do. They weren't very important or big matters, but at least it kept everyone happy and made the Death Eaters feel useful. Besides, young people could do several things older members couldn't. And I'm an excellent example, Draco thought to himself, with just a bit of smugness. Well, actually, with a lot of smugness, but he fancied himself to be modest and retiring.

He gave up when the couple started snogging on the couch and grabbed a book to keep himself from vomiting out his dinner on them. That would have been a dead giveaway, because he would probably be carted off to the Hospital Wing and Madam Promfey would surely find out after slightly less twenty minutes.

Common Room, 8.23pm.

Nope, something is really not right. I'd better talk to Harry, or is that even Harry at all? Ginny thought, and with a determined thinning of her lips, rose and approached Harry.

"Hey, Harry," she said, trying her best to flirt with him, "Why don't you bring me up to your dorm? It's empty at this hour, you know."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned towards the boys' staircase, making sure that she swayed her hips as she walked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry look positively nervous, but he was blatantly ogling her as he got up to follow her. Fine. That's not Harry, she decided. Harry doesn't really ogle at people that obviously. Then who is that impersonator?

Sixth-year boys' dorms, 8.25pm

The dorms were even worse than he expected. It was messy and cluttered and –what the hell was that thing?- had funny posters on the wall. Draco eyed it curiously, with more than a hint of disgust. The people in the posters were dressed in funny shirts with numbers at the back (Insane Muggles, he thought), and they weren't moving at all! Not to mention that they seemed to be kicking around a ball, of all the things in the world. Didn't muggles have something better to do than to kick balls around?

With a start, he suddenly realized that he didn't know which was Potter'sbed. To his immense relief, Ginny had inadvertently saved him from picking a random bed. She was already sitting on one of them, and patted the spot beside her. Naturally, he assumed that was Potter's bed, and quickly sat down.

She gave him a weird look, but he didn't have time to react to that as her lips descended on his a second later. At first, he was tense, but slowly relaxed and started to kiss her back.

That isn't Harry, she thought dazedly. Really, no, not Harry, his kisses are always so shy, oh my, it feels so good...

When they broke apart for air, Ginny let out a sigh, unaware that she wore a smile, and saw Harry smirking in front of her through lowered lashes. He moved closer again, but she stopped him.

"You aren't Harry, are you?" she asked. "You aren't behaving like the Harry I know."

"Does it matter?" he said.

"Yes, in fact it does," she retorted. "I'm not going to kiss a complete stranger!"

"Very well. You'll see in around... now, in fact."

He moved nearer to her and kissed her again, without hesitation, and she responded quite eagerly, much to her dismay. She didn't go around kissing people she didn't even know, but then again, he was such a wonderful kisser... and it dawned on her who the mystery person in front of her was. The smirks, the distaste shown at Muggle posters, the disgust at their gold-and-red common room... well, she had a pretty good idea of who he was now, and so she wasn't very surprised when he suddenly grew taller, and she had to tiptoe a bit to accommodate the extra height, or when the unruly black hair was replaced by smooth, longer blond hair, and when they parted again, she knew that it would be grey and not green eyes staring back at her.

"You seem rather happy to be kissing me," he said, and his voice was loaded with suspicion.

"Well, actually, I am, Malfoy- can I call you Draco?" he nodded, and she continued. "Frankly, I think you kiss well."

"You do realize that this changes everything, do you, Ginny? Much as I'll like you to go out with me, we'll have to hide it most of the time."

"Yes, I know that, Draco, but –oh damn it, don't ask more questions! Can't I go out with a boy that I kindofhadacrush on since fourth year?" "What was that? You'll have to say it in English," he drawled, and she turned red. They were quiet for a while.

"What about Potter?" he asked. "You're not going to abandon him, are you? And isn't this a bit fast? Imean, a kiss and you decide to became my girlfriend?"

"Well, I like him," she said, ignoring the angry flash of his eyes. "But I like you more. Besides, I think I like Harry only as a sister, nothing more. I'll tell him tomorrow, at breakfast, then. Anyway, it is fast, but I think our relationship now is just based on pure physical lust- love can develop later, and if it doesn't work out it's ok with me. Oi, don't pull those threads out of the quilt, will you? Ron won't be happy."

"What?" he cried. "You mean that we've been kissing on, sweet Circe, the male Weasel's bed?" He nearly gagged with shock, and she laughed at him, picking up a pillow and throwing it at his face. He caught it before it hit his face, and suddenly dropped it as if it had burned him.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked him. "What's wrong? Weasley's pillow nearly touched my face! It's probably full of dirt and dandruff and all sorts of harmful things-ugh, now I've got to wash my hands!" Draco wailed, and made a huge point of wiping his hands on a gray handkerchief with an embroidery of a snake at the bottom. "Damn, now I've got to burn this thing! And it was my favourite handkerchief too!"

"Oh, well, I've got a way to make you keep it," she said, and snatched it from him and planted a big kiss on the handkerchief. "There you go," she told him, giving him back the square of cloth, "I think you won't burn it now."

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps approaching, and the two of them couldn't hold back a sharp intake of breath. Before he knew it, Ginny was on her feet, running over to a trunk and rummaging in it for a second, and then she triumphantly pulled out a long, silvery cloak. She gave it to him, and he was so surprised that he gaped at the cloak in his hands. Ginny snorted. "Oh, come on, that's Harry's invisibility cloak. Hurry up, we've haven't got the time!", and she quickly pulled it around him, while he tugged part of it up to hide his head.

Not a second later, Dean's head poked through the door. "I thought I heard something," he said. "Hey, Ginny, why are you in our dorms?"

"Nothing," she replied evasively. "Ron agreed to lend me one of his shirts, so I came up to get it. I couldn't find it, though, and I'm going down now." Draco emitted a tiny snicker, which earned him the privilege of having his toes stepped on. Ginny would have done well in Slytherin, and he grinned, safe and invisible inside the cloak.

He followed Ginny down the stairs and through the common room, taking care not to jostle anyone and staying as far from people as possible. He hoped that no one would notice that Ginny held the portrait door open slightly longer than necessary.

Outside the Common Room, 8.50pm

They walked on in silence until they were far away from the common room, and then Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned to him. "Well, this is it," she said, "Give me backHarry's cloak, OK? He'll notice if it's missing- wait a minute, where on earth is Harry?"

"Oh, don't worry," Draco replied, "He's safe."

"All right, if you say so. I'll see you tomorrow then, at breakfast, and you can smirk at me over your plate," she told him.

"Sure I will."

Then they parted with a brief, intense kiss, and then went their respective ways to their common room. It was only later, in bed, that Draco realized something.

He had forgotten to take Potter out of the closet.

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