Title: Trading Up. (Aka: Boy Swap)
Rating: PG-13 (Or T) for language.
Paring: Harry/Blaise –Friendship-, Blaise/Ginny, Draco/Harry. (Slash)
Summary: A Gryffindor and a Slytherin swap bodies?! So… it's just another day at Hogwarts, then.
Two boys thrown together in a strange potion accident and even stranger feelings are starting to take over. Can they go back to how it was before?
Probably not.
/Slash/
Disclaimer: Harry Potter owns himself! I just…you know…borrow him from time to time…with or without permission is really not the question you should be asking here.
Written by: KillerInADress.
Special thanks to my co-writer/Bestie: YoursTruly.
Warning: There is -AU, Re-do 7th year, fluff, drama,- and just plain old -WTF, Crackish,- ahead.
Chapter One: The Worst Potions' Pairing.
"My name is Harry Potter!" Blaise Zabini shouted, eyeing Draco Malfoy's wand with alarm. "And I can prove it,"
|9 and ¾ hours Earlier|
Ronald Weasley groaned loudly over his morning tomatoes and toast. "Potions," He complained sullenly. "Our first class of the bloody morning just had to be Potions."
Ron's best mate, Harry Potter, mimicked his grumbling while his other friend/girlfriend just sighed heavily.
"Oh, really now," She sighed again. "It's not that bad, you two. Slughorn's really not a bad teacher when you give him a chance." She reprimanded them sternly.
Ron scuffed. "Hermione, it's not about Sluggy and his teaching skills." He said through a mouthful of egg. "It's having to spend a whole hour with stupid Slyther-"
Harry coughed loudly and Ron quickly looked up from his sausage to see Hermione's angry stare. When they had decided to come back to Hogwarts for a re-do of their final year, Hermione had made them both promise to stop the foolish house rivalry she had put up with for so many years. Ron sheepishly swallowed and cleared his throat.
"I think Ron means he's not looking forward to having to spend one whole hour stuck in the dark dungeons brewing potions that smell horrible and always give us a headache." Harry chimed in quickly.
Hermione turned a skeptical look his way just as Ron said: "Yeah, that's it! That's what I meant…horrible." He shoved another piece of toast into his mouth while Harry and Hermione looked at him in distaste. "It's enough to put one of ones breakfast, that is." He added after a long swig of pumpkin juice.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, you'd better hurry up…it's almost 8:15." And with one last disgusted look at Ron and his eating habits, she collected her things and left the Great Hall. Harry looked at his watch.
"She's right," Harry mumbled to himself.
"She's always right. It's Hermione."
Harry found no argument in Ron's logic.
After a mad dash to the Potions lab down in the dungeons, Ron and Harry, their chests heaving, Stepped inside the classroom as quietly as they could. (Which turned out to be not so quiet at all.)
Despite Hermione's warning at breakfast, they were still seven minutes late and it was due to this that Slughorn thought it best to separate them so they might focus better. Ron, luckily, was paired off with 'okay potion maker' Dean Thomas.
Harry, however, was joined to the only other student who was late to his first class of the day, Blaise Zabini. Both boys inwardly groaned and muttered darkly under their breath, but otherwise, acted rather civil to one another…
That is, until it came time to actually make their potion.
Turns out, both of them normally do the cutting and preparing of ingredients while preferring to leave the actual brewing of the potion up to their potions' partners. After many heated, albeit, hushed arguments; they tentatively agreed to share a little of both cutting and brewing. Harry was currently stirring his cauldron clockwise while Zabini cut the Hog-Tail in such a way that Harry was positive he would have done it better. Harry now wished he'd been matched up with anyone else.
Hell, even Draco Malfoy would have been a better option. Sure, Malfoy was a git but at least he always did the brewing without a word…In fact, normally he would just snap at Harry not to mess anything up while cutting, dicing, and squeezing whatever it was that the potion called for, while he, himself, would start the brewing process. It was almost as if he and Malfoy made the perfect pair...you know, when making potions.
But Zabini? No. They were a potions match made in bloody hell.
So lost in his own thoughts, Harry didn't notice that he and Zabini were now crushing up the same kind of bear stone. Blaise, when it finally dawned on him that Potter was no longer stirring their potion, sighed and ruffled his dark hair in frustration before putting out a large hand out to stall Potter's progress.
He was so used to Draco's demand to be the brewer that Potter's lack of brewing skills was really throwing Blaise off his game.
Zabini's hand on his arm snapped Harry back to reality so hard that Harry jumped and in a spastic jerk of motion, accidentally cut them both where hand met forearm, managing, in the process, to get the Bear Stone dust, still lingering on his silver knife, to seep in both their wounds and through their bloodstreams.
That had been mistake number one.
"Damn it, Potter! Watch where you swing that thing!" Blaise barked angrily, snatching his hand back quickly and holding it up to the light to ascertain the damage.
"Sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Harry hastily apologized. He reached out to take the dark hand he'd accidently maim, not quite sure what he planned to do once his had it, but it didn't matter because Blaise pulled it from his reach.
"M'boy, are you alright?"
Blaise and Harry both looked around them. They're little incident did not go unnoticed by the rest of the class, who, along with Professor Slughorn, had all turned their attention on them.
Blaise opened his mouth to tell his Head-Of-House that he was fine and Potter was just a mad man, when Slughorn spoke again. "Harry, my dear boy that cut looks rather bad…perhaps you should go and see Madam Pomfrey in the-"
"No, sir. It's nothing. Really, I'm fine." Harry said immediately ducking his head to avoid all the staring.
"If you're sure…"
"Yes, I am, sir."
"Oh," Slughorn looked taken aback for a moment before he shook himself and said with a smile, "Well then at least bandage that cut. Blood isn't required for this potion, you know." Then he turned back to the rest of the class, chucking at his own joke.
Blaise looked sourly down at his own hand. "Fucking loony," He mumbled under his breath.
Harry exhaled slowly. He picked his bag off the floor and began digging through it for some piece of cloth that he could use as a bandage. He had books, his map, extra ink, his cloak…no, he didn't want to get blood on his fathers' cloak.
Finally, he found one of Dudley's huge and bulky old socks that must have been in-between the pages of one of his books again from when they had lay at the bottom of his trunk from the beginning of the year. He pulled it free and cut it down the middle using his silver knife. He handed half over to Zabini. "I really am sorry about that." He repented again. Feeling miserable.
Blaise took the offending sock gingerly. Either Potter had larger, (and wider), feet than even Blaise himself, or he carried someone else's socks in his bag. Both of those options equally disturbed Blaise.
Harry took his half and with very little difficulty, tied it firmly around his left forearm. He looked over to see Zabini struggling to tie his onto his hand with his teeth. "Here, let me help." Harry offered. Taking Zabini's hand in his even while Blaise protested,
"I've got it, Potter. Besides, your hands are all bloody."
The moment Harry touched the open cut on Zabini's hand, their bloods met and fused together. And this was the second mistake. Because the mixing of their blood, along with the Bear Stone dust that had already been put into their bloodstream, created a bond stringing them tightly together in a magical current known in the eighteen-hundreds' as a 'Born Wish'.
Now, so long as the stone wasn't activated before it ran it's course through their veins and out of their bodies, then the only effect would be the usual need to be overly friendly when the other person was experiencing a feeling of strong depression.
However, if the Bear Stone was to be triggered in time, then the magic would seek out the deepest need, (or wish), hidden in the heart, and draw the magic from the other witch or wizard that they were bonded to, in order to make the wishes come true. Never stopping trying to fulfill their deepest wish until it either succeeded or the wish was changed.
Or one of the wizards died. But that rarely ever happened.
So that brings us to the final mistake, mistake number three…
As soon as Harry finished wrapping up Zabini's hand, he looked down at his own and frowned. They weren't that bad. He thought. So he wiped them on his pants and reached for his powdered Bear Stone at the same time as Blaise did. They touched their two separate batches of crushed stone and both turned to glare at one another in a 'don't you dare add that powder into that potion!' gesture.
"I crushed mine up first, Potter." Zabini growled out.
The very moment their eyes met,
"Yeah, but mines a bit fresher. Besides, you've added the last three ingredients, it's my turn." Harry retaliated, a bit childishly.
The stone was set into motion,
"Oh, grow up, Potter."
It would seek, and it would find,
"Me? Hell, you're the one who can't stir a damn 'Chelidonium Miniscula' potion for five bloody minutes without your hand hurting."
And it would bring their wish to the surface.
The instant Harry had said those words; he wanted them back as Blaise snarled, "MY hand? You want me to stir that potion…" He glanced down at the potions book lying open to the chapter of their potion on the table. "…eighty-two times, counter-clockwise …" He read off, before lifting chocolate eyes to stare boldly into bright green. "…With my hand like this?!" He finished, raising his bandaged hand in remonstration.
Harry opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. "I said I'm sorry." He murmured moodily. "What more do you want me to say?"
"Nothing. I want you to shut your gate and stir the damn potion."
So Harry did. As well as for the rest of the Potion's class, Harry stirred the potion and let Blaise to all the cutting and dicing without complaint.
It had been such a relief when their free period had come for afternoon break right after Lunch. Ever since the Potions class that morning, Harry had been feeling odd and slightly sick.
At first, he had chalked this up to his jumpy behavior that had harmed a schoolmate as much as himself. But not long after Charms, Harry started to suspect that this was something else entirely.
After he explained this to Ron and Hermione, shot down Hermione's immediate and predicable 'go to the hospital wing,' and listened to her lecture him for a good three minutes, Ron suggested he go take a lie down in the boys' dormitories until History of Magic. Harry thought this a great idea and had set off for Gryffindor tower, only slightly saddened by the fact that he wouldn't be joining Ron and Hermione out on the grounds in such nice weather.
The moment Harry's head hit the pillow of his four-poster, Harry was sure he'd never been more exhausted in his life. He was asleep in an instant while unbeknownst to him and a certain dark-skinned Blaise Zabini who was across the castle doing the exact same thing on his green four-poster in Slytherin, their magic's were drawing from each other. The bond had found the mark. Their wish would soon come true.
"Harry…Harry, wake up."
Blaise Zabini rolled over in his bed, eyes still shut tight.
"Come on, Harry. We made excuses for you in all our other classes, but Hermione says that even if you are feeling ill, you need to eat something."
Even his with mind still foggy from sleep, Blaise was starting to get the feeling that something was wrong. Then he was hit in the face with a pillow and all thought left his mind except for the fact that his whole body hurt like hell. He groaned. This was the worse hangover he'd ever had. Of that, he was sure. But…had he, in fact, had anything to drink last night? Everything was just so fuzzy.
There was a sigh. "Sorry, mate, but you have to come down and face the world eventually. Take your time though; I'll save you some dinner, shall I?" Then there was the loud slamming of a door and footsteps leading down the stairs.
Blaise frowned. Down? The 8th years were located at the very bottom of the stairway leading down into the Slytherin dorms. Once again, Blaise found himself thinking that something just wasn't right. "Ugh, what the fuck did you let me drink last night, Draco?" Blaise asked the empty common room. When there was no reply, the Italian wizard puffed up his chest and mental prepared himself to get up. Which he did.
What he hadn't prepared himself for, was all the crimson and gold and scarlet that met his eyes when he opened them. Nor the foggy vision that made it hard to make out anything in detail. "Fuck!" Blaise cried out in surprise, jumping back a little and smacking his head on the bed frame behind him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," He repeated, trying not to think about the how much higher pitched his voice was or how much more hair he had on his head as he rubbing the back of it irritably and squinting to try and see a bit better.
There was the sound of arguing voices growing closer and closer. Blaise heard the same male voice from earlier saying, "Leave 'em be, 'Mione." And, "Come'on, let's just go eat. He'll join us when he is ready."
"I just want to make sure he is okay, Ron." Chimed in a bossy sort of female voice. "Why don't you go down to dinner and save us seats, and Harry and I will join you when we are ready."
A mumbled sort of agreement followed this, then the jiggle of a door handle and then,
"Oh good, Harry, you're up."
Authors Notes: Now I know what you're thinking, 'Things which are mine' isn't even finished yet! Why am I starting a new story?!
But no worries! I don't plan to write anymore of this story until I hear what you guys think. (Well…Okay, I've already written chapter two and started chapter three, but after that, I'll write no more until your say so.)
So…what do you think? I've read a lot of 'bodyswap' stories for Drarry but they always switch Draco and Harry and I thought it would be funnier to have Harry and Draco stuck with each other instead of just walking a mile in each others' shoes.
I mostly plan to stick to Draco and Harry (if you can't already tell), but I do plan to have some Ron-Hermione and Blaise-Ginny soooooo…if any of these pairings bother you, I'm sorry.
Finally, I rushed this chapter…like, a lot, and I'm sorry about that. And…I dun' no how I feel about Blaise. I tend to make him rather 'flirty-mick-flirts-a-lot' because that's just how I see him, but I don't really know if I want him to be flirty here…what are your thoughts?
I do hope this story has promise, but like I said, I want to hear what you think before I add this to the 'success' pile and start to write more chapters.
Reviews welcome, thanks for reading and I hope to hear from you soon!
-KIAD^^