Chapter 1: A New Life
A/N: Hi! This idea came to me late one night while sleep was busy evading me, so I thought I'd give it a try. This story takes place in Ginny's 4th year, Harry's 5th. The plot lines of the Harry Potter books have no effect, so nothing is in canon, except for character traits. Also, I know that Blaise has been identified as male, but I needed a female Slytherin, and I don't like Pansy or Millicent too much. You'll thank me later.
Summary: Ginny decides to start living her own life again, but what happens when she's forced to do it in someone else's body?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected or affiliated with J. K. Rowling or the Harry Potter series. Duh.
Flinging herself onto her four poster bed, Ginny Weasley screamed into her pillow with all her might. Luckily, the dorm room was empty; otherwise her roommates probably would've questioned her sanity. When her energy was spent, she flopped onto her back and gazed hazily at the ceiling, pondering if she should just kill herself now and get it over with. She felt strangely disconnected with her own body, as if her mind was spiraling out into the air of its own accord. She replayed the scene of a few minutes ago, reveling in the horror of her own actions.
She was walking down the hall toward her Charms class, reviewing the incantations of several spells in her head for their test, when she heard voices coming out of an empty classroom to her right. Recognizing them as Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she smiled and made to open the door, when something she heard made her freeze with her arm outstretched toward the doorknob.
"Ron!" scolded Hermione, "That's completely unfair!"
"Well, it's not as thought I don't love her," retorted Ron, "She's my sister! But…I don't know…don't you think she's been getting a bit," he paused, obviously searching for the right word, "clingy lately?"
"I suppose," Hermione said thoughtfully, "I have noticed her hanging around a lot more, but I just thought it had something to with her fancying Harry."
"I thought she'd gotten over that," said Harry, sounding a little shocked, "It's been more than three years already."
"Well yes," said Hermione, almost sympathetically, "But I don't think she has, Harry."
There was a short pause. Ginny started to wake up from her shock and felt herself becoming very angry.
"It's not like I don't like hanging out with her normally," said Ron a little hesitantly, "But she's not acting normally. She's still really shy and quiet around Harry. You don't know how weird it is for her to be like this, especially since I've grown up with her being the center of attention."
"Maybe it's best if we try to hint for her to hang out with her other friends," suggested Harry, "At least for a while."
"What other friends?" asked Ron, "Does she even have any?"
At this remark, Ginny could no longer control herself. She burst into the room, reveling in the sight of their shocked faces, before letting her temper take charge.
"Of course I have other friends, Ron! And obviously they're all much better friends than you three are! I can't believe you would talk about me behind my back like this! And for your information, Hermione," Ginny screamed, emphasizing Hermione's name, making the older girl flinch, "I haven't fancied Harry since the end of my first year! So keep your stupid theories and suspicions, because I want nothing more to do with you! Just—just—" Ginny spluttered, trying to find words to express how strongly she hated them, "Just stay away from me!" she ended childishly, running back out the door and down the hallway, her Charms test completely forgotten.
Ginny groaned, cringing inwardly at what she had said. The truth was that Hermione was right. She really did fancy Harry; she had since the moment she had met him. How could she not? But maybe the time had come for her to move on. He had obviously never liked her, so why should she like him?
The tears came, rolling gently down her face and pooling in the corners of her mouth. How could she possibly move on? Harry was perfect…
No, he's not, said the defiant part of her mind. If he's so perfect, then why was he just talking about you behind your back with his best friends? If he's so perfect, why hasn't he noticed you yet? If he's so perfect, why doesn't he love you?
Ginny pondered this for a moment. Her mind was right, Harry wasn't perfect. In fact, he wasn't even worthy of her attention anymore. What did she need with him, anyway? She could be her own person, live her own life without him, right? She just needed to stop acting so passively; Ron was right about that. In fact, the whole conversation (or at least the part that Ginny had heard) was pretty much the truth. Except for the part about her fancying Harry. She did not fancy Harry Potter. Maybe she should just make up with them and apologize for losing control like that. If she was her normal, outgoing self, then they would have nothing to complain about, right?
Right, her mind answered happily, Now you're getting somewhere.
Wiping away her tears, Ginny left her room to search for her three friends, happier than she had been in years. She was finally ready to live her own life again.
Two weeks later, Ginny walked out of her last class of the day, Transfiguration, with nothing on her mind except the desire to go to dinner and eat as much food as humanly possible. She had skipped lunch in order to finish her Transfiguration essay, which she had completely forgotten about until today, so she was understandably starving.
She took a shortcut through a dusty tapestry that led her to a considerably less-crowded hallway.
"Psst, Ginny."
Ginny paused and looked around, but nobody was even paying attention to her. Wondering if she had finally lost her mind, she shrugged and started to take a step when a hand shot out of a nearby classroom and pulled her inside. Her wand was halfway out of her pocket before she realized who her attacker was.
"Fred, what's going on?" she asked exasperatedly, "Don't you have anything better to do than scare me half to death?"
"As a matter of fact, we do," said George, "We were just experimenting with our latest project and seeing as how you are our most beloved sister,"
"I'm your only sister," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.
"A mere technicality," replied George with a grin.
"We thought we might give you the honor of being the first to try it out," finished Fred, handing her a large glass jar filled with a glowing purple powder.
Ginny looked suspiciously at the jar. "And what exactly does this brilliant experiment do?"
"Why, simple, dear sister," said Fred, "You simply dash some powder on the floor and the two people who happen to be closest to it switch bodies…temporarily of course."
"At least, that's what it's supposed to do," said George, "It worked on us,"
"How could you tell?" she asked with amusement.
"We had to wear different shirts," said George, shrugging. "But we want to make sure it works across genders as well."
"And you want me to switch bodies with one of you two," she said resignedly.
"So you'll do it?" asked Fred hopefully.
"As long as you promise that it's temporary," she said, looking at the powder mistrustfully.
"If it works the first time, all you have to do is sprinkle another handful and you'll change back," said Fred.
"And if it doesn't work?" she asked.
"It will," said George confidently.
"If you say so," said Ginny, unscrewing the lid. She knew Fred and George well enough to know that they wouldn't ask her to do it unless they were positive that it would work.
"Excellent," said George. "So Ginny, if you'll stand over here," he pointed to a spot a little closer to the door, "And um…Do you want to do it, Fred?"
Before Fred could answer, they heard an almighty crash come from the floor above. A few seconds later, Ginny made out the distinctive hunting cry of Filch, although she couldn't catch his new victim's name.
"Who do you suppose?" she asked curiously.
Just then, she heard the same dusty tapestry she had used as a shortcut being ripped aside as someone frantically sprinted down the passageway.
"You're going to pay for that, Zabini!" screamed Filch, "Come back here!"
Just then, Blaise Zabini ran into the classroom, completely out-of-breath, and slammed right into Ginny. As she fell, Ginny watched, as if in slow motion, the glass jar slip from her hand and shatter on the classroom floor, releasing the glowing powder. A huge cloud of green smoke engulfed her, making it impossible to see anything. Even as her body hit the ground, she experienced a moment of weightlessness. She was floating, flying, it was bliss, and then she felt reality come back as if it had punched her in the stomach and she became aware that she was very out-of-breath.
"What happened?" asked Ginny, trying to slow her breathing. Her voice came out lower and raspier than usual, making her wonder if her breathlessness was affecting her vocal cords.
"Ginny, are you okay?" came George's worried voice a little to her left.
"I'm fine, George," she answered, sitting up. "Who are you talking to?"
He looked over at her, noticing the smashed jar, and paled considerably.
"Oh no," said Fred, his usual grin absent.
"What's going on?" said a girl's voice to Ginny's left.
Ginny looked over and nearly passed out. She was looking at her own body, her own fiery red hair, bright brown eyes; everything was the same. It was definitely the most bizarre thing she had ever seen.
She looked over at Fred and George, who were examining the shattered jar. "Please tell me you can fix this," she begged, her voice still much lower than she was used to.
"I don't know, Gin," said Fred, looking up at her apprehensively, "That was our only jar."
By this time, Blaise, who had been listening closely, had figured out what had happened. "You idiots!" she hissed in Ginny's voice, "How much longer are we going to have to stay like this?"
George looked at her worriedly. "Well, we have to order the Doxie eggs next Hogsmeade visit and we have to steal some of Snape's ingredients to make that transformation potion so I'd say…" he paused, calculating in his head, "We can have the powder ready in about a month."
"What?!" shrieked Ginny and Blaise at the same time.
"You can't expect us to do this!" cried Ginny in distress, "How am I supposed to do everything I normally do in a Slytherin's body?"
"It's not like I would enjoy being a Gryffindor for a month either!" snapped Blaise defensively.
Suddenly they heard Filch's wheezy breathing filtering down the hallway, signaling his approach. Immediately, Blaise leapt up and said, "Colloportus!", effectively sealing the door. They remained silent until Filch had moved on to another part of the castle.
"We should go to Dumbledore," continued Ginny as if there had been no interruption, "He'll know how to reverse it."
"No, he won't," said George, "Even if he knows a spell, there's no other way to reverse this except by using the powder again. We made it that way, partly because we found it amusing at the time and partly to increase sales."
"You've got to be joking," said Blaise weakly, slumping back to the floor.
"Actually, we're not," said Fred with a small smile, "First time for everything, huh?"
Blaise just glared at him, causing his half-smile to slide quickly off his face.
"You guys will manage," said George bracingly, "There are lots of worse things that could've happened."
"Like what?" asked Ginny bitterly, examining her new hands, which were much larger and darker than usual.
"Like the powder could have malfunctioned and you both could've had two extra fingers for a week."
Ginny looked at him incredulously.
"What?" he asked defensively, "That's what happened the first time we tried it."
"I think I'd rather have the fingers," said Blaise, inspecting Ginny's red hair, which was much too bright for her taste.
"Well, ain't getting any younger," said Fred joyfully, "Let's go eat."
Ginny looked at them pleadingly. She did not want to eat dinner with the Slytherins, even though she would have to do it eventually. George looked sympathetically at her, then his eyes lit up.
"Maybe we could go to the kitchens instead," he suggested brightly. "That way, we can eat in private and discuss what to do about your situation until we have the powder ready."
"Sure," said Ginny half-heartedly, standing up and dusting her robes (or Blaise's robes) off.
"Is there anything else I should know?" asked Ginny an hour later as she reached for a huge rhubarb pie one of the overzealous house-elves had brought to their small table.
Blaise slapped her hand away from the pie and said, "Yes. I hate rhubarb pie."
"Damn," Ginny muttered under her breath for what felt like the 500th time tonight. Most of the things that Ginny loved to do she could no longer do while she was in Blaise's body. They were both on their respective Quidditch teams, but while Ginny played Chaser, Blaise played Beater. Blaise despised bacon, Ginny loved it. Ginny hated playing Gobstones, which happened to be Blaise's favorite pastime.
"Is there anything we have in common?" she asked in exasperation.
"Possibly," said Fred, who was listening to the conversation with great amusement.
Blaise glared at him before answering. "Well," she paused, holding up her fingers to count, "We both like Quidditch,"
"That doesn't count," said Ginny, "We play different positions. It's going to be totally different."
Blaise sighed and started again. "We both…um…go to Hogwarts?" she tried.
"Ha, ha," said Ginny bleakly.
"Wait, I've got it!" said George ecstatically, throwing his hands up in the air and scaring several nearby house-elves who scurried away, squeaking in fright, "You're both girls!"
Ginny, Blaise, and even Fred stared at him in disbelief.
"Why didn't I think of that?" Blaise asked sarcastically.
"Your personalities are pretty much the same," said Fred reasonably. When they just stared at him much in the same way they had just stared at George, he said, "No, no, think about it. You're both outgoing, you both get in trouble a lot, not to mention you both are very sarcastic."
"That's only when we're around you," Blaise pointed out.
"Wait, they might actually have a point," said Ginny thoughtfully.
"So at least it won't be too hard faking each other's personality," said Blaise, "I've just got to make sure I'm nice to the Gryffindors."
"Yeah," said Ginny gloomily, "I still can't believe I have to be best friends with Malfoy."
"Don't call him that," Blaise warned, "He'll know something's up if you call anyone by their last name. In fact, he'll know something's up if you do anything abnormal, so be careful."
"Okay, okay," said Ginny, waving her hand at Blaise's concern, "I'll be fine. You've told me enough for me to pull off being a Slytherin for at least a year, let alone a month."
"I hope so," said Blaise.
"Well, we'll see you lovely ladies soon," said Fred, getting up from his seat, "But we've got to go."
"Yeah," said George, following suite, "We don't want to be late for curfew."
"Since when do you care?" asked Ginny.
Fred adopted a look of mock outrage. "How can you ask such a thing, Ginny? Why, we've always been the rule-abiding, outstanding young people you see before you today!"
Ginny smiled. She was going to miss their antics for the next month.
"You'd better come with us, Blaise," said George, "You need to know the way up to Gryffindor tower."
"Okay," said Blaise, following them to the exit.
"What about me?" asked Ginny anxiously, jumping up after them.
"You know the way to the common room, right?" asked Blaise.
"Well, yeah," replied Ginny hesitantly.
"And the password?"
When Ginny nodded her head, Blaise said, "Then you'll be fine. Just say that you had to avoid Filch and so you ate in the kitchen. They'll buy that."
"Okay," said Ginny, smiling nervously. Blaise smiled reassuringly at her, surprising Ginny once again. Blaise Zabini, the girl who had tormented her and her friends for years, was actually being nice to her! Ginny knew it was probably just because of the circumstances, but she couldn't help feeling grateful toward her just the same.
"We'll send you an owl if anything happens," said George, smiling sympathetically at her, "We'll miss you."
"See you later, sis," called Fred cheerfully as they reached the Entrance Hall, now devoid of students, "Have fun!"
"Bye," said Ginny, waving at them as they mounted the Grand Staircase. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and walked down the dungeon path to the Slytherin common room, wondering how on earth she was going to survive the next month.
A/N: Hope you liked it! Review!