One morning Ron woke up.
Of course, the only thing spectacular about this was the fact that it was a Sunday morning, and he never woke up before 11 on Sundays.
Giving himself a proper scratch under the arm, he yawned and flung his feet over the side. He tried to stand up, but almost immediately, he fell over.
"Ah!" he cried, lying on the floor. He knew he was uncoordinated, but to fall out of bed when you're awake?
He tried getting up again, only to find that he couldn't keep his balance. Somehow, his center of gravity seemed to have shifted. Not all that unusual when you're a teenager, but this badly? Tottering up, he finally thought to glance down.
"BLOODY FUCK!"
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…
"Ron? What is it?" The door flew open, Harry stepped in, eyes going wide almost immediately. "Oh, uh. Sorry. I um, must have the wrong… room."
Clutching a pillow against his chest, Ron tried to disappear. Why did he have to sleep without a shirt on last night?
"No Harry, it's me."
Harry's eyes grew even wider. "Ron, you have…"
"Tits. Yea. And stop bloody staring!"
"Oh. Right."
Harry shot his eyes to the floor.
"And would you mind turning around?"
"Right."
Ron almost dropped the pillow until he realized which way Harry was facing. "And move away from the mirror?"
Harry moved again, this time taking the extra precaution of covering his eyes.
Ron fumbled for a shirt, struggling to maneuver without bumping his… assets too much. His pajama bottoms didn't even fit properly. They were threatening to fall off his hips at any moment.
For a moment, he thought of asking for something of Harry's, since Harry was much smaller than Ron. Or at least, Ron as a male. He thought better of it. He didn't want Harry of all people to get his jollies knowing that a girl was wearing his clothes. Awkwardly, he grabbed his Gryffindor tie and cinched the waist tighter.
"I'm, uh, decent now."
Harry turned around, biting his lip. Oh gods, he was laughing at him. Her. Whatever. "Sorry mate," he choked out, giving him a look that almost passed for apologetic. "But you've got tits!"
"Yea, I kind of noticed."
"How did this happen?"
"I don't know, and I don't care! How do I change back?"
They considered this for a moment, pondering the floor.
"Um, Ron, you wouldn't happen to be…"
"Happen to be what?"
"You know. Um… a poo pirate?"
"Poo pirate?"
"Yea! You know!" Harry waved his hand about, desperately looking for the word. "A poofter! A bender! A beaver leaver!"
"What? NO!"
"A sausage jockey! An uphill gardener! A friend of Dorothy!"
"Who the hell is Dorothy?"
"Fudge nudger! Back-door lover! Sausage slipper! Pole smoker! Nutley Freeholder! A resident of Succasunna! Arse bandit! Backgammon player! Brown hatter!"
"Mate, none of those make any sense!"
"Salad tosser! Turd burglar! Pilot of the chocolate runway! Muff diver!"
"Wrong one."
"Hershey Highwayman! Bum boy! Bone queen! Greek! Moffie and Moff! Shrimp queen! Uranian! Protein queen!"
"How the hell do you know all these terms?"
"Kitchen cleaner! Golden boy! Dilly boy! Duchess! Chuffer! Waiter! Corn dogger! Explorer of the forbidden gateway! French tickler! Watch queen! Hide the pickle player! Major pain in the ass! Twinkle toes! Rimadonna! Harry hoofter-" For a moment, Harry went pale. "Scratch that last one."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, I was thinking, maybe this was like, a side-effect or something. Like, if you're into that, you might spontaneously, like, change… or something."
"I think you have it confused for something else."
"Well, excuse me for being a little confused!"
"Well at least you're not the one with bloody fucking tits!"
"What's going on? I heard yelling." Hermione said, bursting into the room. "Oh! Harry, you didn't tell me that you had a girlfriend!"
Ron eeped. Damn, his voice had gotten really high.
"Um, that's not my girlfriend, Hermione. That's Ron."
Hermione blinked once. Twice. Three times. If anyone would be calm about the situation, it would be good, old, trusting, level-headed Hermione.
Who was currently on the floor giggling like mad.
Ron flung himself on the bed. "Not you too!"
"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped. She didn't even try to look sincere about it. "But you! A girl!" With that, she dissolved into incoherent laughter. Somehow, this killed off Harry's composure as well. He fell to the floor with a WHUMP, laughing so hard that he started hiccupping. Ron hoped that Harry had broken a rib or something on the way down.
"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, struggling for air. "It's just that. You. Are a girl!"
"So?"
"So? It took you FOUR YEARS to figure out that I was a girl!"
Ron glared. Somehow though, the pretty little lips he now had turned it into more than a pout than a threat. "Did you turn me into a girl, Hermione?!"
"No, although now that I think of it, it would have been a really good idea."
"How do I change back?" Ron gasped. If Hermione hadn't done it, then how did this happen? "I mean, I can't go to class tomorrow with these!" Ron grabbed a hold of his chest. Ouch. Too hard. "And will you bloody stop staring?" he yelled at Harry.
"Right," Harry snickered, looking away.
"Look, Ron," Hermione said, taking on a no-nonsense tone. About bloody time. "We don't know how this happened, but I'm sure that Madame Pomfrey will know what to do."
"I can't go downstairs looking like this!" he shrieked- no bellowed. Think manly thoughts. Mountain climbing. Belching. Totally. Definitely manly yelling.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We have an invisibility cloak, remember?"
"Yea, we'll use that," Harry muttered distantly. "I'll get it in a titty."
"HARRY!"
"JIFFY! I MEAN JIFFY!"
