Summary: Hermione casts a curse on Draco that will change his life forever. Featuring Compassionate!Draco, Confused!Ron, Bitchy!Hermione, Vindictive!Snape, Evil-bastard!Lucius, and All-knowing-all-seeing!Crookshanks.
Disclaimer: I own it all ... except for everything that anyone else owns - dammit - that's all of it ... let's just put it this way: I own nothing - never have done, never will - I just have to learn to live with that.
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"You think the only people who are people,
Are the people who look and think like you,
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger,
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew."
-Disney's Pocahontis
* * *
I woke up, a little groggily ... I wasn't quite sure how I got here - I guessed I was in the Hospital Wing, because I could hear Madam Pomfrey's voice.
"The curse affected both of them, but there are no physical side-effects - I can't tell what curse she used, but I'm guessing there will be some disorientation, or possibly amnesia for some time." she said.
I still couldn't open my eyes - they felt like lead weights ... and as much as I wanted to open my mouth and ask what was going on, I couldn't seem to do that, either.
"Now, please leave, so my patients can get some rest." Madam Pomfrey insisted. Two sets of footsteps trailed, unwillingly, out of the door to my right. I heard Madam Pomfrey sigh, and then another set of footsteps retreated out through the door to my left.
It was at exactly this moment that my body decided to wake up - I sat up, and looked around. As I looked to my left, I saw a sight that made my skin crawl - what looked exactly like me staring back at me ... the same expression of shock and confusion on his face - at first I thought it was a mirror, but then I noticed that he was sitting cross-legged, while I had my legs out straight.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Who are YOU?" I responded, noticing that my voice was not my own - it sounded more like ... no, I thought, I was just disoriented - it couldn't be that.
"I asked first." he said warily.
"I'm Draco Malfoy." I answered. I noticed, for the first time, that something didn't feel right - I wasn't me ... the look on the other-person-who-was-in-my-body's face clearly indicated that whatever I looked like, Draco Malfoy was the last thing that he would have thought.
"I - I'm Hermione Granger." the other person answered.
I stared at him/her/whatever (I'm not the best with pronouns, and this situation is not helping) for a full minute, before then looking at myself ... after another minute, I looked back up at Hermione-in-my-body, and we both said it at the same time: "We've switched bodies!"
"No - no way - this is not happening!" I snapped immediately.
"Sorry - I didn't know that curse was so literal." Hermione muttered.
I glared, "What the Hell was that curse, anyway?" I asked, not really sure if I wanted to know.
"It's meant to teach you a lesson about what it's like to be someone else ... I didn't know it'd actually make you BE the aforementioned someone else - as in: me - I only thought ... oh - this is terrible." he said (I'm using the pronoun 'he' because Hermione is in a male body right now).
"How long will this last for?" I asked.
"Until you learn your lesson." Hermione said.
I pulled a face, "I'm stuck in your Mudblood-body until I learn some stupid Gryffindor lesson about morality, or something like that ... great - just great."
"This could take a while." he muttered, then looked at me and said, "Oh - another thing - no one can know about this spell, otherwise it becomes permanent."
I just stared at him, totally stunned, "You have got to be kidding me!" I said, and then, just to make sure, I pinched myself on the arm - still here, so not a dream/nightmare ... damn.
"This is not good." Hermione muttered to himself.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," I said, determined to make Hermione suffer for this, "Look at your left arm."
The expression on his face as he looked at me was quite comical ... then, slowly, he raised his left arm, pulled up the sleeve ... and gasped in horror at what I knew was the Dark Mark. "I didn't think even you were this bad." he muttered.
"It's not something I'm proud of - it was my father's idea." I said, feeling the illogical need to explain myself to the Mudblood.
He shuddered and rolled down the sleeve again, to hide the unsightly tatoo. "Any other unpleasant surprises waiting for me, in your life, Malfoy?" he asked.
I thought about this question for a moment, before answering - it was my body, and I didn't want Hermione to end up getting me killed, so best to tell the truth. "Well, that Mark is mostly decorative - even if you feel it burn, you're still supposed to stay in Hogwarts - I'm still a bit too young to join in all the normal Death Eater activities." (he sighed with relief as I said that), "And another thing you ought to know - no matter what she tells you, I don't like Pansy Parkinson - she has got it into her head that I like her, and refuses to see reality. That, and the entire post-pubescent half of Slytherin house will all come on to you as soon as you enter the common room - ignore them all." the stunned expression on his face was, again, comical - I hope I don't look like that, ever (when in my own body, I mean). "And in spite of how nice he acts to me in class, Snape hates me - he has a personal grudge against my father, and carries it on to me - also, he's a double-agent and the Dark Lord doesn't trust him, so it's supposed to be my job to keep an eye on him."
Hermione nodded, taking in this information, "O.K. - is that all?" he asked innocently. I nodded, then angrily brushed back the lock of fuzzy brown hair that had fallen in my face. Hermione smiled at this, then continued, "Right - Ron and I - or you - I mean ... you know what I mean ... Ron and I are dating." I felt sick - I'd never cared much about the relationships between the Terrific Trio - then again, Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers make a perfect couple. Wait a second ... Weasley! There was no way I was going to even pretend to like that red-haired freak. "And if you break up the relationship, I will hunt you down and kill you, after we switch back." she said coolly. Great - brilliant - this was going to be Hell.
We spent the next half hour exchanging details about class shedules. Then, just after we had exchanged passwords to get into the correct common rooms, Potter and Weasley arrived.
"Hermione, how're you feeling?" Weasley asked, as he rushed to my side. I frowned, but didn't say anything. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding concerned.
I had to make some excuse - out of the corner of my eye I could see Hermione-in-my-body, glaring at me, "Headache." I muttered. Weasley responded to this by sitting down on the edge of the bed, and putting his arm around my shoulders, in an attempt to be comforting. I sincerely wished I could rip his arm off and whack him around the head with it. It was only thanks to my upbringing, in which I was taught/trained not to show my true feelings, that I didn't try to hurt him, or say something that would have blown my cover - Hermione had said that no one could find out about this spell, or it would become permanent ... there was no way I was going to let that happen.
"What are you looking at, Malfoy?" Potter asked. I jumped, slightly startled, and for a fraction of a second I had thought he was talking to me, before I remembered that he thought I was Hermione.
To give credit where it's due, Hermione reacted in exactly the way I would have, "What I am looking at is the pathetic display that Mudblood and her girlfriend are putting on for all to see. Why don't you two get a room?"
Weasley's reaction was predictable - he lunged at Hermione (thinking it was me). I grabbed Weasley's arm, to stop him hurting my body (which was currently occupied by Hermione ... I told you this would get confusing), "Leave it, he's not worth it, Ron." I said, making a conscious effort to use his first name, as long as I was pretending to be Hermione.
Weasley glared homicidally, although he seemed to calm down, slightly. I was mildly impressed at how well Hermione could impersonate me - although I know for a fact that she had heard me use both those insulting-comments on several seperate occasions. After Weasley had calmed down enough to speak civilly, he said, "Come on, Hermione - let's get out of here and leave this Ferret to insult the wall." ouch - damned good comeback - better than I would have expected from him.
"Did Madam Pomfrey say I could go?" I asked.
"Yes." Potter answered, "She said both of you can leave when you feel ready." he added, glancing at Hermione (who still looked like me, and will until further notice, so when I say the name 'Hermione' - refered to by the pronoun 'he' - I mean the-person-who-looks-like-Draco-Malfoy, OK?).
Hermione nodded, acknowledging the information without seeming to care who had said it - he really does know how to impersonate me - he should handle this situation fine ... it's me I'm worried about.
The two Gryffindor-boys pulled a curtain around my bed, allowing me to get changed. If I had been in their situation, I would have offered to help the girl get changed (purely out of a desire to see the girl without clothes on) ... now, I am temporarily female - the obvious thing to do is take advantage of this situation - I glanced down, as I was changing clothes. She's not got a bad body - the only reason I never noticed how attractive a form she has would most likely be because the robes she wears don't fit her properly. This suspicion was confirmed as I pulled the set of robes on - far too loose around the waist ... I cast a simple charm, that pulled in the fabric - it's a dressmaker's charm I had overheard when I was in Madam Malkin's, in fourth year - you'd be surprised what things you find useful, if you bother to remember or learn them. That looked much better.
As I stepped out from behind the curtain, Weasley, Potter and Hermione all stared at me. "What's the matter? Did you think I really looked that flabby?" I asked, looking at Hermione, "I read the charm to fix my robes at the same time that I looked up that curse for you." I added, smirking - he was playing this game, and I wasn't going to let Hermione Granger do a better impersonation of me than I could do of her.
Hermione shrugged, "Not bad for a Mudblood."
I ignored that statement, and let Potter and Weasley lead me out of the Hospital Wing.
* * *
When we arrived in the Gryffindor common room, I instantly decided I liked it. If it weren't for the colour-scheme, this place would be so much better than our dungeons. Warmer, with more comfortable furniture, and more spacious, too ... not to mention the higher ceiling - Snape hits his head on the lamps hanging from the dungeon common room's ceiling, every time he has to make an announcement to the house.
Weasley made a bee-line for the old-looking chess board in the middle of the floor, and looked up at Potter and I, "Wanna play?" he asked both of us.
Potter shook his head, "I've got to get my Potions assignment finished, for tomorrow." this surprised me - I thought Perfect Potter always finished his homeworks the day he got them (a bit like Hermione ... oh, no - I'm going to have to actually LOOK LIKE I'M STUDYING for a change - damn).
"Hermione?" Weasley asked plaintively.
I shrugged, "I guess." I muttered, sitting down on the opposite side of the chessboard, claiming the black pieces.
"I thought you always played with white?" Weasley asked.
"And you always beat me." I pointed out, remembering that little detail Hermione had thankfully informed me of, while talking about classes.
Weasley shrugged and set up the white pieces on his side of the board. The game lasted for quite a while - I may not be the best chess player in the world, but at least I didn't lose too spectacularly. After first year, and what I heard Weasley did in the Forbidden Corridor - something about playing a giant chess-game (and the Ravenclaws call him 'The Chessmaster of Hogwarts') - I don't feel too bad losing ... it's only a chess-game, and it's not like my personal pride was at stake - just Hermione's, and she always loses to him anyway.
"You're getting better." Weasley noted.
I snorted, "I was trying to win." I said.
"Well you did better than last time we played." he said.
"That's good to know ... maybe I should keep playing with the black pieces - they seem to like me." I said, watching the black knight try to revive his king, which had been brutally knocked unconcious by the white queen. I concidered for a moment that Hermione is usually the voice of authority in this little threesome, so I then said, "Shouldn't we get some sleep? There's Potions class first thing tomorrow."
Weasley frowned in disgust, "I hate Potions." I could hear him mutter, "And Snape is so unfair - always giving points to the Slytherins when they don't deserve it, or taking them away from us for no reason. He plays favourites like nobody's business ... I think he's in love with Malfoy."
I almost choked - nothing could be further from the truth, "What on Earth makes you think that?" I asked sceptically.
"Well you see the way the two of them act in class - Malfoy's always kissing up to Snape, and Snape always gives Malfoy extra house points and compliments and stuff." Weasley said.
I inwardly shuddered at the mental picture that Weasley had so kindly given me. Just fighting back the urge to vomit at the idea, I said, "He's only showing favouritism to his own house - if Malfoy was in any other house, Snape would probably treat him as badly as he treats you or I."
"I guess." Weasley muttered.
"Now I'm going to bed - I don't want to fall asleep in Potions class." I said, standing up and smiling, picturing the scene: 'Granger! 50 points from Gryffindor for sleeping in class!'. I didn't really feel like doing that, though - where's the sport in getting Gryffindors in trouble if someone else (namely Hermione) gets the credit for it?
Weasley stood up, too, and stepped over the chessboard. He kissed me on the cheek (remember, I thought to myself, it's Hermione he's kissing - Hermione's body you're borrowing). "Night, Hermione." he said, in such a sweet tone that, again, it made me want to be sick.
I knew I had to maintain the pretence, so, "Night, Ron." I said, before turning and making my way up the stairs to the room Hermione had said was her private room (prefects get their own rooms - I have one of my own, down in the dungeons ... which Hermione has complete access to - what if he finds my secret collection of Dark Arts books? ... nah, he'd probably just read them all).
When I entered the room, the first thing I did was to magically lock the door and cast a silencing charm on the room - that way I could talk to myself (a habit I still haven't gotten rid of, since I was very young) without anyone hearing about the body-switch.
The second thing I did was to make a gagging noise, pretending to be sick.
"What do I do now?" I asked myself. Read her diary? I thought, in response to my own question ... maybe later - I was tired now, so sleep seemed like a good idea. I rooted through her trunk, in a serch for pyjamas, a nightdress, or something along those lines - I found more books than clothes ... and no nightwear, whatsoever. "I'd never have thought she was the type to sleep naked." I muttered, as I replaced the books and robes in her trunk (of course, I don't normally wear anything in bed, either, but that is entirely beside the point). I eventually decided to just not take off the robes I was wearing, and collapse in an exhausted heap on the bed. That worked - I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.
* * *
It was a dream - please say it was all just a dream, I thought, as I woke up the next morning. The first thing I noticed was that this pillow was much more comfortable than either my own or the pillows in the Hospital Wing. I reluctantly opened my eyes, to see the relatively unfamiliar room - Hermione's room ... and the reason the pillow was so comfortable was because it was filled with some Muggle sinthetic material, rather than feathers. I sat up, vaguely thinking that I would have preferred all the awkwardness that would go with waking up in this bed in my own body, rather than having switched bodies with Hermione. I ran my fingers through the tangle of brown hair that fell in my face, in a vain attempt to tame it - there is a damned good reason why I like having short hair. I climbed off the bed and looked in the mirror - Hermione's face looked back at me, her hair a tangled mess (more so than usual) and her robes crumpled and looking like they'd been slept in all night (well they had, so they have a good reason to look like that).
I sighed ... I really am not the sex-crazed pervert that everyone thinks I am - I'm not like my father was at my age - I didn't particularly want to take advantage of my complete control of Hermione's body ... well, beyond just looking, anyway. I removed the clothes I had slept in, and found clean clothes in the trunk. I had neither the time nor the inclination to bathe properly, so I cast a simple cleaning charm on myself, and started to get dressed ... taking my time - this body wasn't bad to look at - especially for a Mudblood.
I had just finished changing underwear (I am glad I'm not really a girl - bras are bloody uncomfortable - I really don't know what Gregory sees in wearing women's underwear ... or why he felt I should know about it), when I heard a noise. Something ginger and furry had entered the room, through a cat-flap I hadn't known was there, "I locked and silenced the door, but left the bloody cat-flap wide open ... who's cat are you, anyway?" I asked - I know this cat, very well - I feed it whenever I meet it, down in the dungeons (I catch rats from the kitchens, with a levitation charm, and levitate the live meal over to the cat - he seems to like rats).
The cat leaped up onto the bed, and hissed at me, angrily.
"Oh let me guess - you're Hermione's cat, aren't you?" I asked. It nodded, "And you recognise me?" it nodded again, "And you know I'm not really Hermione?" another nod, "So ... I don't suppose you can keep a secret? 'Cause if any humans find out, then this switch'll be permanent." yet another nod, then it curled up at the foot of the bed and watched me with interest.
I decided to ignore the cat for now, as I finished dressing, and brushed the fuzzy brown mess that passes for hair. Now ... Hermione said she had: "Potions, Arithmancy and Charms, today ..." I muttered, as I unearthed the neccessary books from her vast collection, and put them into the shoulder-bag, grabbed the bag, and made to leave. Pausing before I reached the door, I turned and asked, "So, Feline-Who's-Name-I-Need-To-Learn, what does Hermione usually feed you?" if a cat could shrug, this one did. "What do you normally eat?" I rephrased. At this, he leaped off the bed and approached me, writhing around my ankles as cats do ... and as he always did when he met me in the dungeons. "Are you trying to tell me you live off the rats in the dungeon?" it looked up and nodded curtly, "You're a mouser?" another nod - this time he looked particularly proud of this fact, "Well, that means I don't need to learn where she keeps cat-food, then ... one less thing to do." I muttered. The purring noise which the cat made in response to that comment sounded suspiciously like laughter.
* * *
I found my way down to the Great Hall for breakfast fairly easily - the portrait that leads to Gryffindor Tower is not far from our Transfiguration classroom, so I already knew the area fairly well ... I hadn't known that Gryffindor Tower was there until last night, though.
I had to remind myself to sit at the Gyrffindor table - I found Weasley and Potter sitting together, at the end of the table nearest to the staff table, with a space next to Weasley - I assumed (correctly) that Weasley was saving the seat for who-he-thought-was-Hermione (in other words me). I sat next to him, "Hi." I said, trying to act friendly.
"Morning, Hermione." Potter said politely.
"Hi, Hermione." Weasley said, smiling, "you not having any breakfast?" he then asked, sounding concerned. "Here." and he reached across the table, snatching a few slices of toast, and the bowl of raspberry jam, and handing them to me. This was good - I wouldn't have known what Hermione usually ate, if Weasley hadn't been so polite ... I guess he has his uses.
"Thanks." I said, accepting the offered food, "I still feel a little off-colour, from that curse, Yesterday." I admitted. It wasn't a lie - it was an understatement.
Weasley nodded in an understanding way, "Anything involving Malfoy has to be unpleasant." he said, as if he thought that would cheer me up - I guess it should have cheered Hermione up, if she'd heard it.
"What was that curse, anyway?" Potter asked.
I was thankful for the change-of-topic from what Weasley had said. "Just trying to teach Malfoy a lesson." I answered truthfully. Well that was technically true, wasn't it?
"Did it work?" Potter asked hopefully.
"Not yet ... it might, though - give it time." I answered.
I started spreading jam on the toast - I usually eat bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast, but I had to behave as Hermione would, so I settled for the food Weasley had given me, under the assumption that he knows what his own girlfriend likes to eat for breakfast.
I glanced across the Hall, and was mildly surprised to see that Hermione was eating my usual breakfast. Maybe she'd used the same trick I had, or maybe it was a lucky guess ... I considered, very briefly, the notion that she used to watch me and knew what I ate because of that - that thought disturbed me so I abandoned the idea as a bad one.
I finished my breakfast fairly quickly - Potter and Weasley were still eating. I decided that the best thing to do was read - that's what Hermione would do. I took out the Potions book and started reading over the homework that Hermione had already finished before the switch. All her answers were, as usual, correct. I still have trouble understanding how a Mudblood can be better than a Pureblood, at anything, let alone magic - she always manages to get higher grades than me.
"You're reading POTIONS?" Weasley asked.
"Yes - is there something wrong with that?" I asked in response.
"Well ... you usually don't read Potions in front of anyone - it's like your silent protest against Snape - you told me if no one SEES you studying his subject, they'll think you're not studying it." Weasley said.
"Well I wanted to check that I'd done my homework for this morning properly." I answered.
Weasley shrugged and accepted this without question. If I (as myself, not as Hermione) had told him the sky was blue (which it is right now, I thought as I looked up at the enchanted ceiling) he would have questioned it.
At that moment, the twit-with-the-camera (I think his name is Colin Creepy, or something like that) appeared. "Harry Potter, can I ask you something?" he asked. Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that - this kid is a pure pest ... I actually like him, in spite of his Gryffindor-Mudblood status, purely because he only pesters Potter.
"Uh - not right now, Colin - I've got to get to Potions class, now." Potter said, looking at Weasley and I, meaningfully. Potions class didn't start for another fifteen minutes ... I suppose it's as good an excuse as any to get away from the Creepy kid.
I put the Potions book away and stood up at the same time as Weasley and Potter - both of them left the Hall as quickly as possible. "Sorry, Colin - maybe you can catch him later." I said sympathetically, before following Potter and Weasley out of the Hall. I'm sure Hermione would have done something similar - and if not, then it'll annoy Potter ... it's a win-win situation, for me.
* * *
I wandered down towards Potions class, at a leisurely pace - Potter and Weasley walked next to me. We were extremely early, thanks to Creepy, and Potter didn't want to be first there - no Gryffindor wanted to get there first. As we walked, Weasley told me a horror-story, which his older twin brothers had most-likely made up, about what had supposedly happened when they (the Weasley twins) had been the first students to get to Potions class - this story is most likely the reason that no Gryffindor ever wants to be first to Potions.
"Haven't you already told me this?" I asked - I guessed that he had told Hermione this story before, but I wasn't sure if he had or not - that's why I worded it as a question.
"Probably ... I think I told you it when we were in second year." he admitted.
I nodded knowningly, and Weasley looked sheepish. I've never seen him look like that - like he's admitting a mistake - he'd never let me (as myself - Draco Malfoy) see him show weakness.
When we arrived at the Potions classroom, Vincent and Gregory were already there, looking a bit confused, for the lack of someone who looked like Draco Malfoy to tell them what to do ... Hermione must have still been in the Great Hall - I hope he's not late, because if he is, Snape'll be verging on homicidal - he may blame and take it out on the Gryffindors, but he'll think it's my (me - as Draco Malfoy's) fault. Pansy and Blaise were there, as well. Being the more intelligent of the four, Pansy took the lead in my absence.
"Hey, Potter. What've you done with my Draco?" she asked. Her Draco? HER DRACO? I wanted to strangle the bitch, but refrained from doing so, because that would have given the whole body-switch thing away.
"What? He's not glued to your slutty arm?" Weasley asked. I smirked - insult Pansy - this is a perfect opportunity.
"You know." I spoke up, "We agree -" I indicated Weasley and Potter, at this point, to show that I wasn't saying Pansy agreed with what I was about to say, "- that Malfoy is a low-life, but even he is too good for you, Parkinson."
Pansy sniffed arrogantly, "Like you would know, Mudblood. You're beneath even the lowest of the low."
I blinked, "You got some catching up, then." I said smirking.
"Uh-oh. Cat fight." Vincent said dumbly.
"As if I'd waste my energy fighting her." I snapped, "I have better things to do. I've got to help these boys with their Divination homework - don't want Trelawney to get upset, do we?" Potter and Weasley stared at me for at least three seconds before bursting into fits of laughter. Yes, boys - Trelawney's feelings are more important that Pansy - that's the joke - you finally get it. Sheesh - stupid Gryffindors - that must be why they rush into situations without thinking - they're that slow that if they stopped to think it'd take forever for them to do anything. Then again, Vincent and Gregory are at least as slow-minded as the worst Gryffindor (that would probably be Longbottom ... or maybe Lockhart).
Ah - here's he is - the most beautiful man in Hogwarts has deigned to grace us with his divine presence. "What'd I miss?" Hermione asked, taking up my usual position flanked by Vincent and Gregory.
"Mudblood just insulted me." Pansy screeched indignantly.
"Aww, too bad." Hermione said condesendingly, before turning to me, "Why don't you find a book on how to resepct your betters, Granger?" he asked, sneering. That stopped Potter and Weasley laughing.
Weasley lunged towards Hermione (do I still have to keep reminding you? Weasley thought Hermione was me), intent on punching him. Hermione stepped aside, and Weasley's fist landed in the stone wall. That's gotta hurt. I am thankful that I'm the only one who noticed that Hermione winced in sympathy before regaining his composure. "Leave it, Ron." I snapped, "Bad timing - I smell Snape." I added in a whisper.
True enough, seconds later Snape arrived. He glared at each and every Gryffindor (all but Longbottom had arrived during the ritual argument), paying specific attention to Potter, Weasley and me. He didn't miss the red marks on Weasley's fist. "What happened here?" he asked.
Hermione bit his (my?) lip knowing he'd have to say it, "Weasley tried to punch me. He got the wall, instead." he said, pointing to the slight blood-stains on the stone-work.
Snape glared and Weasley, "Five points from Gryffindor, and detention, Weasley - you'll clean that wall until it sparkles, without magic." he said with malice. Sounds fair to me - it's no worse that any other teacher would have done. Weasley may have been provoked, but he should learn to control his temper. Weasley scowled and started muttering about unfair teachers. Snape heard him, "If you want a reason to call me unfair, I would be glad to take more points from Gryffindor, unless you shut up." he added, before opening the classroom door, and leading the class inside.
Once seated, next to Weasley, I glanced around to see Hermione sitting between Vincent and Gregory. For a Mudblood, Hermione knew how to look like s/he owned the place - at least no one will get suspicious, for his posture. I quickly got out her Potions text book and the homework she had done before she cursed me. Weasley was rubbing the cuts on his hand. I felt sorry for him ... wait a second: I ... felt sorry ... for WEASLEY? Something must be wrong with me. "It's your own fault, you know. He'd react much worse to insults. He enjoys provoking you into physical violence, you know." I said invoking Hermione's famous 'McGonagall voice'.
Weasley looked at me, stunned, "You what?"
"He gets a kick out of provoking you into attacking him. Think of a good put-down, instead of hitting him - it'd be more effective." I said. It was true, too - I did enjoy making Weasley try to attack me - the advantage is I can always truthfully claim he started it. I'm not quite sure why I just told Weasley that ... maybe because he's not such a prat when someone-who-looks-like-Draco-Malfoy isn't around ... oh, well - I enjoy a challenge, so when I get my body back, we'll see if I can make him try to hit me, after telling him that.
Weasley stared, "What makes you think that?" he asked.
"He uses snide comments to get to you - do the same and it'll get to him. Besides - did you never notice his eyes light up in triumph when you try to attack him - he KNOWS you'll lose Gryffindor points for doing it - it's like he's won, even if you do hurt him for it." I whispered calmly - making sure Snape wasn't looking our way as I said it.
"Never noticed -" Weasley started, before I elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Snape." I hissed. True enough, Snape was now watching us.
"Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. If you would kindly pay attention to the board and not each other, then maybe you would understand what you were supposed to be doing today." Snape snarled. Hermione gave me an questioning look. As soon as Snape turned his attention elsewhere, I smiled at Hermione - it was supposed to be my patented evil smile, but it so doesn't work on her Mudblood-face that I'm borrowing.
We worked on Polyjuice Potions, for the rest of the class - they were supposed to take a month to brew, and ended up lasting for one hour - although it did make you look exactly like someone else of your choosing, and could be retaken to prolong the effect. Damn, but that would be useful, right about now, if we had some ready-made.
* * *
After Charms class finished, Potter, Weasley and I went down to dinner. Gryffindor table - I had to remind myself again. Hermione was already there at the Slytherin table, having been in Defence Against the Dark Arts class. I watched until he looked up at me - and something about the way he looked at me said that he wanted to talk. I nodded slightly, and turned to listen to the conversation Potter and Weasley were having about Quidditch ... not just any Quidditch disscussion, though - tactics for their Slytherin game. How could I ignore this?
"Are you kidding, Harry?" Weasley asked, "You know Malfoy'll not fall for that."
"I think he might. It worked in the practices - your sister would have fallen eighty feet if I hadn't caught her with the levitation charm." Potter said.
"Yeah, but still ... Ginny's not as good an opponent as Malfoy." Weasley persisted, "AND she didn't expect you to try to make her fall, either." Did Weasley just compliment my Quiddich skills? That's what it sounded like, to me.
"But Malfoy won't expect it either - Gryffindors don't usually play that dirty." Harry said, grinning.
"Wanna bet?" I asked.
"Huh?" both looked at me, surprised.
"I may not care about your Quidditch strategies," total lie "but I know Malfoy will expect that - a thief thinks everyone steals."
"Huh? We weren't talking about stealing his broomstick ... though that's not a bad idea." Weasley said, turning thoughtful. He'd bloody well better not even try it.
"I mean he'll expect the worst from everyone, because he is bad. Like you try to see good in everyone because you are one of the good guys." I tried to explain. Shit - why do I tell them these things? I think the switch might not have been complete - I've got stuck with some of her morals, or something. Damn - I hope not.
"I get it." Potter said, "I'm still going to try it."
"Good luck." I said, meaning it to be sarcastic, but it didn't end up sounding anything but sincere.
* * *
I met Hermione in the Entrance Hall, after everyone else had left to their common rooms. He silently nodded in the direction of the doors, and led me outside. I followed him all the way to the spot by the lake that's hidden from the castle by the Forest - I come down here often, but I didn't know Hermione knew about it.
"What were you and Ron doing?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"Just talking. Snape likes to exaggerate. He's the one who encourages Pansy to keep trying to get me to like her." I answered.
"You really don't like her, do you?" he asked.
"Hate her. That's why I took the opportunity to blatantly insult her, this morning." I said, grinning.
"Right. Question: where the Hell do you keep nightwear?" he asked, watching me.
"I'd like to ask you that same question." I said, smirking.
"Umm ... didn't have room to pack any, what with all the books." he admitted.
"I don't wear any, either." I said, tiling my head to one side, "What do we do about that?"
"Umm ... I didn't get changed before sleeping." he said, not looking at me.
"Ditto." I said calmly, "You really have an attractive body, you know?" I asked, making it fairly obvious that I was referring to her female body that I was borrowing.
If my pale face was capable it, I swear he would have blushed, "You're not too bad, either. I still think you're an evil git ... but an evil git with a great body."
"Thank you." I said, smiling, "And back to the Weasley subject - I bloody well hope that you don't expect me to do anything serious with him."
"No - no ... we're not like that, yet." he said, seeming surprised that I would think otherwise.
"Ever been with anyone else?" I asked.
He looked at me, startled, "No. Well, I kissed Harry once, but that was a deliberate planned attmept to make Ron jealous so he'd ask me out. But nothing else."
"You're a virgin?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes ... aren't you?" he asked, confused.
"Umm ... yes, but that's not the point." I said, embarrassed.
"And I'd appreciate it if my body is in the same condition when I get it back." he said, ominously.
"Huh? You think I'd want to lose your virginity for you? I may be bisexual, but I'm not really interested in Weasley, and he seems to be the only option you've left me with." I said, smirking.
"You're bi?" he asked.
"Uh huh."
"That's interesting." he said, with the tone of voice I usually reserve for when I'm plotting something.
"You are not going to lose my virginity, either. If I'm not allowed to have fun while I'm borrowing your body, you're not allowed to have fun borrowing mine." I paused, considering what I'd just said. This could lead to awkward questions.
"No?" he asked, "That reminds me. What about the bathroom issue?"
"I've been avoiding that one, too." I admitted.
"We can't go for days, maybe weeks or months, till you learn your lesson, without dealing with that." he said, frowning.
"Can you honestly tell me you don't know what to do?" I asked.
Again, if my face was capable of it, he'd be blushing, "I have a fair idea. I just think it's a scary thought."
"I give you permission." I said, grinning. "I'll Obliviate you after." I added.
He glared at me, "This isn't funny!" he snapped, "And when you said this -" he held up his left arm, "- burns, it was an understatement."
"There's no accurate way to describe it - Cruciatus is only slightly worse." I said, looking at his arm, and feeling a great sense of relief that I hadn't felt the Mark burn.
"I was lucky I was alone when it happened, otherwise people would have been suspicious." he snapped.
"Sorry - I'd gotten used to it - I didn't realise it'd hurt you so much." I said, honestly sorry. Shit - I was honestly feeling sorry for something I'd done to a Mudblood - what was wrong with me?
"Well, I hope you learn your lesson soon - Lucas Nott is starting to scare me." he said. "And you'd better hope you learn it within -" he counted something up in his head, "- three weeks." a visious grin crossed his face, that made me suddenly feel sick.
"You had better not be talking about what I think you're talking about?" I asked. I definitely didn't want to be stuck in a female body at the wrong time of the month. He nodded. Shit, damn, bloody Hell (literally), and any other swear words you can think of to add to the list. "This is bad. This is very very bad." I said, truely terrified.
"It's not that bad, but I sincerely doubt you could handle it." he said, grinning. I had always thought Hermione was a good little girl - s/he's damned evil.
"And have you realised, yet, that unless this curse is reversed within two weeks, you have to fly against Potter, for Slytherin's Quidditch team?" I asked, regaining some degree of composure.
"Oh no!" he said, "No ... I didn't realise that ... DAMN!"
"And if Lucas bothers you, remind him that you have blackmail material on him. Or, I have. Well, you're pretending to be me ... you know what I mean." I said, before turning and walking back up to the castle.
"I hope you learn your lesson, soon." he called, to my retreating back. So do I.
* * *
That evening was spent on homework. BORING. But I had to give the impression that I was studying - Hermione studies all the time. Potter and Weasley complained all evening, until I snapped, "If you want to fail your N.E.W.T.s, then by all means, go and mess around instead of studying!"
"No need to get snappish, 'Mione." Weasley said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I had to consciously remind myself not to attempt to kill him.
"I'm only looking out for your academic interests, is all." I said.
"The N.E.W.T.s aren't till the end of next school year." Potter said, sounding exasperated.
"But we need to start working for them now." I persisted, impressed at how easily I could make my voice sound whiney, now, and at how well I could act the part.
"Lighten up, 'Mione." Weasley said, "We've got ages left. We're not going to fail for want of a few hours study time at this stage."
"You want to bet?" I asked.
"Nah ... can't afford it, even if it is a dead-cert." Weasley said sadly. Hah - poor Weasley-no-money ... why isn't that amusing?
"Quidditch practice tomorrow." Potter announced, "I need to go to bed now, if I want a hope of being awake at daybreak. Damned Oliver Wood impersonator."
"Who?" I asked, confused.
"Angelina. She's team captain. She's almost as fanatical as Oliver was." Harry said, in a tone that clearly indicated he was surprised I didn't know.
"I didn't remember." I said.
Potter frowned at me, but then seemed to remember something, himself, "Madam Pomfrey said you might get amnesia."
"That must be it." I said, jumping at the excuse, "Did she say how long it'd last?" I asked, adding for good measure, "I don't want to forget anything for the exams."
Weasley rolled his eyes at me. I wanted to hit him - I didn't actually hit him, but I wanted to. "You'll be fine. She said for up to a few months. But you might not forget anything else at all."
"If I'm lucky." I added.
"Anyway." Potter said, "Quidditch at dawn. Bed - sleep - now. See you guys tomorrow."
Another half hour of studying passed, before Weasley got sick of it. "I'm going to bed, too. This History homework is exhausting. I swear History of Magic has some sort of sedative properties." he announced.
I tend to agree, but I doubt book-happy Hermoine would. "Fine. Go. I'll see you tomorrow."
I'm getting the impression that a goodnight kiss is some sort of ritual between Weasley and his girlfriend. As he kissed me on the cheek, before disappearing up the stairs to the boys' dormitary. No one else was left in the common room. I wiped my cheek with my sleeve, in disgust. Yawn. Bed time.
I wandered up to Hermione's private room, locked and silenced the door, and sat on the bed. The cat leapt up and settled itself on my lap. "Hi, cat." I said, stroking its fur, idly, "I still don't know your name." I added. It flicked its tail, but if I expected it to somehow be able to inform me of its name, I was mistaken. "I don't suppose you can give me any clue about what lesson she wants me to learn?" I asked. It looked up at me, staring into my eyes. What do I have to learn? I sighed, "Night, feline friend." I said, standing, to get the get-off-my-lap message across. I removed the robes I was wearing, and slept in the underwear.
* * *
Next morning, I saw the cat sleeping at the foot of the bed. I wish I had some idea what bloody lesson Hermione wanted to teach me. That cat gave me the impression that it KNEW what I need to learn, but just can't (or maybe won't) tell me. I dressed, using the cleaning charm on myself, again, and then went down to breakfast.
Weasley was there, but Potter was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, there were a few Gryffindors missing. Must be at Quidditch practice.
At that moment, several owls swooped into the Hall. I watched as a letter landed in front of Hermione. He put it straight in his pocket, without even opening it. Good - that's what I'd have done if I'd gotten a letter at breakfast (I mean as myself, not when I'm meant to be Hermione) - he'll probably ask me about it, later. The owl that had delivered the letter sat there, until Hermione offered a piece of bacon rind to it. The bloody owls have come to expect that. I only ever did it a few times, because I wasn't hungry enough to finsh the bacon, and now they don't go away until they've been given some.
Then a copy of the Daily Prophet found its way onto my only-just-emptied plate. I unrolled it, and read the headline. 'Sirius Black Captured'. Hadn't Hermione said to go straight to him if I heard ANYTHING about Black? He had specifically said that I was not to react to it, positively or negatively, whatever happened, but to go to him. Right. I looked up and made eye-contact with him, raising one eyebrow in a way that says 'I want to ask you something', before excusing myself, and exiting the Great Hall. Hermione caught up with me at the edge of the Forest.
"What is it?" he asked. I handed him the paper, silently. "Oh no!" he said, horrified.
"That is not the reaction I expected. Now I see why you told me not to react to it." I said calmly. A picture of serenity compared to his near-panic.
"I guess I need to tell you. I was trying not to. Sirius Black is innocent. The only people who know are the Weasleys, Remus Lupin, Professor Dumbledore, Harry, me, now you, and Peter Pettigrew." he explained.
"I thought Black murdered Pettigrew?" I asked, confusion showing on my face.
"That is what everyone thinks. Pettigrew is a Death Eater - he's got a Dark Mark, and all. He faked his death and blamed Sirius for being the Potters' Secret Keeper. And that's why Sirius is going to be ... oh, god! He's going to be given the Dementor's Kiss." he read it from the paper.
"They'd do that to an innocent man?" I asked sceptically.
"They don't know he's innocent." Hermione said, his face paler than usual.
"When is it going to happen?" I asked.
"It says, here, it'll be performed tomorrow afternoon." he said, looking like he was trying not to be sick.
"That doesn't leave much time." I noted, "Touch the Mark on your arm, close your eyes and think of Pettigrew - you'll see where he is."
He did as I said, and seemed to frown, "He's near the Ministry headquarters - I think he plans to pay Sirius a visit, to gloat."
"Nice of him." I said coldly, "I'll go and tell Harry - he'll want to do something about it - we'll catch Pettigrew and turn him in."
"One more little detail you ought to know. Pettigrew is an Animagus, can turn into a rat." Hermione said.
"Good. I'll bring some rat-traps." I said dryly, "Seriously - that's useful." I added honestly.
"Why are you acting like you care?" he asked, stunned.
"Because I believe only one person truely deserves the Dementor's Kiss, and it's not Black." I said.
"Who?" he asked, stunned.
I looked at him, smiling weakly, "You-Know-Who. I am not a loyal Death Eater. When I told you I was too young, I was lying. I'm excluded because he doesn't trust me yet - and with good reason. I prefer to sit on the fence."
"Until it gets burned down." he responded, with a sad look on his face. It resembled pity, but since I'd never shown that emotion on my own face, I couldn't be certain.
"Stay away from this. I'll deal with it. I don't want anyone to think he-who-looks-like-Draco-Malfoy would help Harry Potter." With that, I turned and ran up to the Quidditch pitch.
* * *
"HARRY!" I yelled, as I ran onto the pitch. He looked down at me, stunned.
He must have seen the expression on my face, because his shock turned to concern, and he landed. I hate when he dives like that - I keep thinking he'll get himself killed. Not that I really care about him, as a person, but I'm not big into the wanting-people-dead thing ... that's probably why I'd never make a good Death Eater. "What's the matter, 'Mione?" he asked.
"This." I said, handing him the paper. He read the headline, and his jaw dropped in shock, "We've got until tomorrow afternoon before they carry out the sentance." I said, to save him the trouble of reading the whole article.
"No." he whispered, "They can't do that."
"Well they can and they will, unless someone stops them." I said, trying not to lapse back into my usual sarcastic demeanor, as I would normally do in a stressful situation.
Harry looked at me, shocked, "How can you sound so calm?" he asked.
"Because someone needs to keep a cool head if we're going to think of something to fix this situation." I answered, trying to speed up my speech, to sound more like Hermione would.
"Well? Any ideas?" he asked hopefully.
I thought for a second, "We could tell Dumbledore. He might be able to do something?"
"He couldn't, last time." Harry responded, shooting that idea down.
"Last time?" I asked.
Harry looked at me, with confusion. Confusion turned to exasperation, and I'd bet my inheritance that he thought I was suffering from amnesia, again, "Last time they thought they'd caught Sirius. Dumbledore couldn't stop them from trying to sentance him to ... that." he hit the paper, indicating the sentance was the same then as it is now, "And we had to rescue him, remember?"
"I think so." I said, "It must be the amnesia. As soon as you said it, I remembered it."
"So we need to do something ourselves." Harry said, starting to pace around in a little circle.
"We could ask Dumbledore for advice, at least?" I suggested.
He looked at me, and sighed, "You're right."
* * *
We found our way to Dumbledore's office, and Harry seemed to get annoyed at something, "I don't know the password. It's been changed since last time I was sent here."
I smirked, slightly. Harry Potter gets sent to the headmaster's office so often, I was surprised he didn't know the password, "Skittles." I said, simply. The gargoyle stepped aside.
"How'd you know that?" Harry asked, in surprise.
"Prefects know the passwords to their head of house's office and the headmaster's office." I said calmly. Damn - I didn't exchange the head-of-house passwords with Hermione. Oh, well - that's not relevant, now.
Harry ran up the already-moving-upwards-anyway staircase, taking the steps two at a time. I followed. He knocked on the door at the top, frantically. "Come in." Dumbledore's voice said politely, from inside.
We entered the office, which I had only seen once before, and Harry immediately spoke, before Dumbledore could get to any pleasantaries, "Sirius has been caught."
* * *
Weasley had deemed it fit to join us, and Dumbledore had escorted the three of us to the Ministry. The excuse is that Harry wanted to see Black - one of the Aurors used the phrase 'Look into the eyes of the so-called friend who betrayed his parents'. I watched as Harry entered the cell where Black was chained up. Ro- no, his name is Weasley - followed Harry (I've just realised I've been thinking of him as Harry since I ran out onto the Quidditch pitch this morning - what's happening to me? I'm starting to think of my rival as human!), and I also followed them. Black was chained to a wall by magic-proofed manacles with only a bench to sit on to stop him from hanging by his arms.
Black looked up at us, stunned. "Wha-what are you three doing here?" he asked.
"Trying to help." Harry whispered, so that the guard outside the door wouldn't hear.
"They're under the impression that Harry believes the popular rumours about you and is here to gloat." I noted.
Black's lip twitched, "Love the cover story." he said acidly, "And speaking of the gloat factor, you might like to look over there." he added, nodding in the direction of a corner of the cell.
We did so, and R-Weasley was the first to react, "Scabbers!" Harry's eyes widened, and both boys lunged for the rat in the corner.
"That seems almost too easy." I whispered, watching. I drew my wand and pointed it at the rat Harry was now holding by the tail. "Finite Incantatem." I said, and the rat fell to the floor, turning into a short balding human.
On seeing this little exchange, the guard burst into the cell, "What's going on here?" he demanded.
Black looked up at the guard calmly, "If I may speak." he offered, "Allow me to introduce you to Peter Pettigrew."
Pettigrew cringed fearfully in a corner as the guard sneered at Black. "Don't lie to me, you traitor." the guard said coldly.
"He is Pettigrew." I said nervously, "Honestly."
Harry and Weasley nodded. The guard gave us all sceptical looks, "Black murdered Pettigrew fourteen years ago." he said, confused.
"I wish." Black muttered.
"Shut up, you." the guard snapped at Black. Black shrugged and shut up.
"I swear, he is Peter Pettigrew." Harry said, now also pointing his wand at the offending rodent-wannabie.
"Why not give him Veritaserum and ask him yourself ... do the same for Black, too, and he'd give you the same story." I said calmly, glancing at Black who nodded seeming enthusiastic about this suggestion. "It couldn't hurt, if we're wrong, and if we're right we'll be saving an innocent soul." I noted. Black shuddered at that comment.
The guard gave me an exasperated look, but then saw the determined expression Harry wore and decided it was best not to argue, "I'll send a message up to my superiors, and put this man -" he grabbed Pettigrew by the arm, "- in another cell with the same escape-proofing Black here has - not even an insect can get through it."
Weasley muttered to me, "No hope of Rita Skeeter getting in, then." I wasn't sure what he meant, so I nodded sagely in agreement, anyway.
* * *
When we returned to Hogwarts, the gorgeous blonde that everyone calls Draco Malfoy (that's Hermione, to you) intercepted me, as soon as Harry and Weasley left me alone. He dragged me into an abandoned classroom.
"Well? What happened?" he asked, anxiously.
"It's all right. Calm down." I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone (never tried it before, so I wasn't quite sure). "We found the rat ... there'll be a hearing on Monday. Veritaserum. He's as good as free."
He smiled with relief, "Thank God."
"You're welcome." I said, jokingly.
He stared at me for a second before noting, "If that wasn't my body, I'd slap you for that."
"I know." I said, smirking.
"Don't do that - it makes my face look evil." he said frowning.
I reached up and touched the face I was currently wearing, "This face is incapable of looking evil ... perfect cover for true evil like me, if you want my opinion."
"That's not funny."
"It wasn't meant to be." I said calmly, "Anyway ... can you at least give me a clue to this 'lesson' of yours?"
"Sorry. You have to work it out on your own ... you will eventually." he said sadly, "I just hope you hurry up with it."
* * *
That afternoon was a Hogsmeade trip ... I stayed with Harry and Ro- Weasley, as they went to Honeydukes and Zonko's, then we went to the Three Brookmsticks for Butterbeers. All in all, a relatively pleasant day concidering the company I was keeping. And the two Gryffindor boys were in high spirits from the events of the morning - Black's freedom was almost guaranteed at this rate.
We were just leaving the Three Broomsticks and Harry and Weasley were debating the merits of going up to the Shrieking Shack, when I heard a shriek from the wrong direction.
A Mudblood student from Hufflepuff had been grabbed by a cloaked and hooded figure - it couldn't have been anything but a Death Eater. I backed away nervously, but Harry preferred the Gryffindor approach, and stepped forward shouting, "Let her go!"
The Death Eater turned their attention to Harry, I'd swear there was an evil smirk under that mask. With a wave of a wand, I was magically drawn towards the Death Eater, the Hufflepuff forgotten about in light of a better hostage/victim. "If you say so, Potter." he growled ... I recognised the voice instantly, and I froze in terror ... it was my father.
I spotted Hermione (who still looks like Draco Malfoy, just to remind you), watching wide-eyed with shock.
I felt the tip of a wand pointed at my throat and bit my lip to stop myself from telling everyone about the swap - I didn't want it to be permanent ... although I could well die as Hermione, if someone didn't do something.
"That is not what I meant, and you know it, Malfoy." Harry said coldly.
"I have an offer for you, Potter." Father said calmly, "Surrender, and I won't kill her. Surrender and you won't suffer ... much."
Harry watched the situation, obviously trying to think of a plan ... none seemed to spring to his mind. Not that I could think of anything, either. "Malfoy, if you hurt her ... I swear you'll not live to tell about it." he snarled, pointing his wand at my father. This was getting ridiculous - my father own was going to kill me, thinking I was someone else, and then he was going to be attacked by my worst enemy who was trying to save my life. Could this get any weirder?
"What could you possibly do to me, Potter? You are merely a child." Father asked.
"That's what Voldemort thought." Potter replied.
"Just surrender, and there need be no blood shed here today." Father said.
"No." I whispered, "How delusional are you to think he'd surrender to you? How insane are you, to think you've picked the right side, anyway? Do you realise how petty and pathetic you are? You predjudiced git. You hypocryte. You talk about purity of blood, when you're not even totally human ... your 'Master' is trying to wipe out 'Mudbloods' when he is one! The so-called 'Mudblood' you are currently threatening to kill is better at magic than anyone in your 'Pureblood' family ever could be. You call the Weasleys a disgrace to the name 'wizard' ... but you're the disgrace!" I shouted, trying to turn to face him, with the intention of spitting in his face. I really believed every word I had just said.
Suddenly, I felt light-headed - the world started spinning out of focus, and when I found my balance, I was across the street from what was happening, watching Hermione (who now looked like herself again) squirming to escape my father's grasp. I looked at my hands - at the green and silver badge I was wearing ... I was myself again.
Still seriously pissed off at my father, I drew my own wand - grateful for the familiar feel of the ebony wood, much cooler than Hermione's ash wand - and pointed it at him, "Stupify." I said quietly. It had the desired effect - stunning him and forcing him to let Hermione go.
The Terrific Trio turned to stare openly at me. "Why did you just do that, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"That is a very long story ... and one which might make Weasley sick." I said, grinning.
Hermione smiled at me, as she walked over and hugged me, "Thank you ... you learned your lesson, and not a moment too soon." she said. I reluctantly wrapped my arms around her, returning the hug.
"Nothing like death threats to decide where someone's true loyalties lie, is there?" I asked, pushing her gently away. "Your boyfriend looks jealous." I added with a smirk.
She turned to face Ron, stared at him for a few seconds, before running over to him and kissing him passionately, on the lips. He looked a bit shocked, but didn't object.
Harry, meanwhile, turned to face me, "Why?" he asked.
"Like Hermione said ... I learned my lesson." I replied calmly.
"You just called her 'Hermione'." he noted.
"I did, didn't I."
Hermione stopped her molestation of Ron Weasley, long enough to tell me, "You can tell them now that the curse is broken." before returning her full attention to him.
"First thing's first ... get a room." I noted. I then turned to Harry, "That curse, to teach me a lesson ... it was more than you think ... much more ..."
* * *
After that, I was actually on friendly terms with Harry and Hermione, though Ron never did forgive me for requiring oxygen. All I can say is thank the gods that's over.
* * *
Finis
Disclaimer: I own it all ... except for everything that anyone else owns - dammit - that's all of it ... let's just put it this way: I own nothing - never have done, never will - I just have to learn to live with that.
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"You think the only people who are people,
Are the people who look and think like you,
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger,
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew."
-Disney's Pocahontis
* * *
I woke up, a little groggily ... I wasn't quite sure how I got here - I guessed I was in the Hospital Wing, because I could hear Madam Pomfrey's voice.
"The curse affected both of them, but there are no physical side-effects - I can't tell what curse she used, but I'm guessing there will be some disorientation, or possibly amnesia for some time." she said.
I still couldn't open my eyes - they felt like lead weights ... and as much as I wanted to open my mouth and ask what was going on, I couldn't seem to do that, either.
"Now, please leave, so my patients can get some rest." Madam Pomfrey insisted. Two sets of footsteps trailed, unwillingly, out of the door to my right. I heard Madam Pomfrey sigh, and then another set of footsteps retreated out through the door to my left.
It was at exactly this moment that my body decided to wake up - I sat up, and looked around. As I looked to my left, I saw a sight that made my skin crawl - what looked exactly like me staring back at me ... the same expression of shock and confusion on his face - at first I thought it was a mirror, but then I noticed that he was sitting cross-legged, while I had my legs out straight.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Who are YOU?" I responded, noticing that my voice was not my own - it sounded more like ... no, I thought, I was just disoriented - it couldn't be that.
"I asked first." he said warily.
"I'm Draco Malfoy." I answered. I noticed, for the first time, that something didn't feel right - I wasn't me ... the look on the other-person-who-was-in-my-body's face clearly indicated that whatever I looked like, Draco Malfoy was the last thing that he would have thought.
"I - I'm Hermione Granger." the other person answered.
I stared at him/her/whatever (I'm not the best with pronouns, and this situation is not helping) for a full minute, before then looking at myself ... after another minute, I looked back up at Hermione-in-my-body, and we both said it at the same time: "We've switched bodies!"
"No - no way - this is not happening!" I snapped immediately.
"Sorry - I didn't know that curse was so literal." Hermione muttered.
I glared, "What the Hell was that curse, anyway?" I asked, not really sure if I wanted to know.
"It's meant to teach you a lesson about what it's like to be someone else ... I didn't know it'd actually make you BE the aforementioned someone else - as in: me - I only thought ... oh - this is terrible." he said (I'm using the pronoun 'he' because Hermione is in a male body right now).
"How long will this last for?" I asked.
"Until you learn your lesson." Hermione said.
I pulled a face, "I'm stuck in your Mudblood-body until I learn some stupid Gryffindor lesson about morality, or something like that ... great - just great."
"This could take a while." he muttered, then looked at me and said, "Oh - another thing - no one can know about this spell, otherwise it becomes permanent."
I just stared at him, totally stunned, "You have got to be kidding me!" I said, and then, just to make sure, I pinched myself on the arm - still here, so not a dream/nightmare ... damn.
"This is not good." Hermione muttered to himself.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," I said, determined to make Hermione suffer for this, "Look at your left arm."
The expression on his face as he looked at me was quite comical ... then, slowly, he raised his left arm, pulled up the sleeve ... and gasped in horror at what I knew was the Dark Mark. "I didn't think even you were this bad." he muttered.
"It's not something I'm proud of - it was my father's idea." I said, feeling the illogical need to explain myself to the Mudblood.
He shuddered and rolled down the sleeve again, to hide the unsightly tatoo. "Any other unpleasant surprises waiting for me, in your life, Malfoy?" he asked.
I thought about this question for a moment, before answering - it was my body, and I didn't want Hermione to end up getting me killed, so best to tell the truth. "Well, that Mark is mostly decorative - even if you feel it burn, you're still supposed to stay in Hogwarts - I'm still a bit too young to join in all the normal Death Eater activities." (he sighed with relief as I said that), "And another thing you ought to know - no matter what she tells you, I don't like Pansy Parkinson - she has got it into her head that I like her, and refuses to see reality. That, and the entire post-pubescent half of Slytherin house will all come on to you as soon as you enter the common room - ignore them all." the stunned expression on his face was, again, comical - I hope I don't look like that, ever (when in my own body, I mean). "And in spite of how nice he acts to me in class, Snape hates me - he has a personal grudge against my father, and carries it on to me - also, he's a double-agent and the Dark Lord doesn't trust him, so it's supposed to be my job to keep an eye on him."
Hermione nodded, taking in this information, "O.K. - is that all?" he asked innocently. I nodded, then angrily brushed back the lock of fuzzy brown hair that had fallen in my face. Hermione smiled at this, then continued, "Right - Ron and I - or you - I mean ... you know what I mean ... Ron and I are dating." I felt sick - I'd never cared much about the relationships between the Terrific Trio - then again, Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers make a perfect couple. Wait a second ... Weasley! There was no way I was going to even pretend to like that red-haired freak. "And if you break up the relationship, I will hunt you down and kill you, after we switch back." she said coolly. Great - brilliant - this was going to be Hell.
We spent the next half hour exchanging details about class shedules. Then, just after we had exchanged passwords to get into the correct common rooms, Potter and Weasley arrived.
"Hermione, how're you feeling?" Weasley asked, as he rushed to my side. I frowned, but didn't say anything. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding concerned.
I had to make some excuse - out of the corner of my eye I could see Hermione-in-my-body, glaring at me, "Headache." I muttered. Weasley responded to this by sitting down on the edge of the bed, and putting his arm around my shoulders, in an attempt to be comforting. I sincerely wished I could rip his arm off and whack him around the head with it. It was only thanks to my upbringing, in which I was taught/trained not to show my true feelings, that I didn't try to hurt him, or say something that would have blown my cover - Hermione had said that no one could find out about this spell, or it would become permanent ... there was no way I was going to let that happen.
"What are you looking at, Malfoy?" Potter asked. I jumped, slightly startled, and for a fraction of a second I had thought he was talking to me, before I remembered that he thought I was Hermione.
To give credit where it's due, Hermione reacted in exactly the way I would have, "What I am looking at is the pathetic display that Mudblood and her girlfriend are putting on for all to see. Why don't you two get a room?"
Weasley's reaction was predictable - he lunged at Hermione (thinking it was me). I grabbed Weasley's arm, to stop him hurting my body (which was currently occupied by Hermione ... I told you this would get confusing), "Leave it, he's not worth it, Ron." I said, making a conscious effort to use his first name, as long as I was pretending to be Hermione.
Weasley glared homicidally, although he seemed to calm down, slightly. I was mildly impressed at how well Hermione could impersonate me - although I know for a fact that she had heard me use both those insulting-comments on several seperate occasions. After Weasley had calmed down enough to speak civilly, he said, "Come on, Hermione - let's get out of here and leave this Ferret to insult the wall." ouch - damned good comeback - better than I would have expected from him.
"Did Madam Pomfrey say I could go?" I asked.
"Yes." Potter answered, "She said both of you can leave when you feel ready." he added, glancing at Hermione (who still looked like me, and will until further notice, so when I say the name 'Hermione' - refered to by the pronoun 'he' - I mean the-person-who-looks-like-Draco-Malfoy, OK?).
Hermione nodded, acknowledging the information without seeming to care who had said it - he really does know how to impersonate me - he should handle this situation fine ... it's me I'm worried about.
The two Gryffindor-boys pulled a curtain around my bed, allowing me to get changed. If I had been in their situation, I would have offered to help the girl get changed (purely out of a desire to see the girl without clothes on) ... now, I am temporarily female - the obvious thing to do is take advantage of this situation - I glanced down, as I was changing clothes. She's not got a bad body - the only reason I never noticed how attractive a form she has would most likely be because the robes she wears don't fit her properly. This suspicion was confirmed as I pulled the set of robes on - far too loose around the waist ... I cast a simple charm, that pulled in the fabric - it's a dressmaker's charm I had overheard when I was in Madam Malkin's, in fourth year - you'd be surprised what things you find useful, if you bother to remember or learn them. That looked much better.
As I stepped out from behind the curtain, Weasley, Potter and Hermione all stared at me. "What's the matter? Did you think I really looked that flabby?" I asked, looking at Hermione, "I read the charm to fix my robes at the same time that I looked up that curse for you." I added, smirking - he was playing this game, and I wasn't going to let Hermione Granger do a better impersonation of me than I could do of her.
Hermione shrugged, "Not bad for a Mudblood."
I ignored that statement, and let Potter and Weasley lead me out of the Hospital Wing.
* * *
When we arrived in the Gryffindor common room, I instantly decided I liked it. If it weren't for the colour-scheme, this place would be so much better than our dungeons. Warmer, with more comfortable furniture, and more spacious, too ... not to mention the higher ceiling - Snape hits his head on the lamps hanging from the dungeon common room's ceiling, every time he has to make an announcement to the house.
Weasley made a bee-line for the old-looking chess board in the middle of the floor, and looked up at Potter and I, "Wanna play?" he asked both of us.
Potter shook his head, "I've got to get my Potions assignment finished, for tomorrow." this surprised me - I thought Perfect Potter always finished his homeworks the day he got them (a bit like Hermione ... oh, no - I'm going to have to actually LOOK LIKE I'M STUDYING for a change - damn).
"Hermione?" Weasley asked plaintively.
I shrugged, "I guess." I muttered, sitting down on the opposite side of the chessboard, claiming the black pieces.
"I thought you always played with white?" Weasley asked.
"And you always beat me." I pointed out, remembering that little detail Hermione had thankfully informed me of, while talking about classes.
Weasley shrugged and set up the white pieces on his side of the board. The game lasted for quite a while - I may not be the best chess player in the world, but at least I didn't lose too spectacularly. After first year, and what I heard Weasley did in the Forbidden Corridor - something about playing a giant chess-game (and the Ravenclaws call him 'The Chessmaster of Hogwarts') - I don't feel too bad losing ... it's only a chess-game, and it's not like my personal pride was at stake - just Hermione's, and she always loses to him anyway.
"You're getting better." Weasley noted.
I snorted, "I was trying to win." I said.
"Well you did better than last time we played." he said.
"That's good to know ... maybe I should keep playing with the black pieces - they seem to like me." I said, watching the black knight try to revive his king, which had been brutally knocked unconcious by the white queen. I concidered for a moment that Hermione is usually the voice of authority in this little threesome, so I then said, "Shouldn't we get some sleep? There's Potions class first thing tomorrow."
Weasley frowned in disgust, "I hate Potions." I could hear him mutter, "And Snape is so unfair - always giving points to the Slytherins when they don't deserve it, or taking them away from us for no reason. He plays favourites like nobody's business ... I think he's in love with Malfoy."
I almost choked - nothing could be further from the truth, "What on Earth makes you think that?" I asked sceptically.
"Well you see the way the two of them act in class - Malfoy's always kissing up to Snape, and Snape always gives Malfoy extra house points and compliments and stuff." Weasley said.
I inwardly shuddered at the mental picture that Weasley had so kindly given me. Just fighting back the urge to vomit at the idea, I said, "He's only showing favouritism to his own house - if Malfoy was in any other house, Snape would probably treat him as badly as he treats you or I."
"I guess." Weasley muttered.
"Now I'm going to bed - I don't want to fall asleep in Potions class." I said, standing up and smiling, picturing the scene: 'Granger! 50 points from Gryffindor for sleeping in class!'. I didn't really feel like doing that, though - where's the sport in getting Gryffindors in trouble if someone else (namely Hermione) gets the credit for it?
Weasley stood up, too, and stepped over the chessboard. He kissed me on the cheek (remember, I thought to myself, it's Hermione he's kissing - Hermione's body you're borrowing). "Night, Hermione." he said, in such a sweet tone that, again, it made me want to be sick.
I knew I had to maintain the pretence, so, "Night, Ron." I said, before turning and making my way up the stairs to the room Hermione had said was her private room (prefects get their own rooms - I have one of my own, down in the dungeons ... which Hermione has complete access to - what if he finds my secret collection of Dark Arts books? ... nah, he'd probably just read them all).
When I entered the room, the first thing I did was to magically lock the door and cast a silencing charm on the room - that way I could talk to myself (a habit I still haven't gotten rid of, since I was very young) without anyone hearing about the body-switch.
The second thing I did was to make a gagging noise, pretending to be sick.
"What do I do now?" I asked myself. Read her diary? I thought, in response to my own question ... maybe later - I was tired now, so sleep seemed like a good idea. I rooted through her trunk, in a serch for pyjamas, a nightdress, or something along those lines - I found more books than clothes ... and no nightwear, whatsoever. "I'd never have thought she was the type to sleep naked." I muttered, as I replaced the books and robes in her trunk (of course, I don't normally wear anything in bed, either, but that is entirely beside the point). I eventually decided to just not take off the robes I was wearing, and collapse in an exhausted heap on the bed. That worked - I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.
* * *
It was a dream - please say it was all just a dream, I thought, as I woke up the next morning. The first thing I noticed was that this pillow was much more comfortable than either my own or the pillows in the Hospital Wing. I reluctantly opened my eyes, to see the relatively unfamiliar room - Hermione's room ... and the reason the pillow was so comfortable was because it was filled with some Muggle sinthetic material, rather than feathers. I sat up, vaguely thinking that I would have preferred all the awkwardness that would go with waking up in this bed in my own body, rather than having switched bodies with Hermione. I ran my fingers through the tangle of brown hair that fell in my face, in a vain attempt to tame it - there is a damned good reason why I like having short hair. I climbed off the bed and looked in the mirror - Hermione's face looked back at me, her hair a tangled mess (more so than usual) and her robes crumpled and looking like they'd been slept in all night (well they had, so they have a good reason to look like that).
I sighed ... I really am not the sex-crazed pervert that everyone thinks I am - I'm not like my father was at my age - I didn't particularly want to take advantage of my complete control of Hermione's body ... well, beyond just looking, anyway. I removed the clothes I had slept in, and found clean clothes in the trunk. I had neither the time nor the inclination to bathe properly, so I cast a simple cleaning charm on myself, and started to get dressed ... taking my time - this body wasn't bad to look at - especially for a Mudblood.
I had just finished changing underwear (I am glad I'm not really a girl - bras are bloody uncomfortable - I really don't know what Gregory sees in wearing women's underwear ... or why he felt I should know about it), when I heard a noise. Something ginger and furry had entered the room, through a cat-flap I hadn't known was there, "I locked and silenced the door, but left the bloody cat-flap wide open ... who's cat are you, anyway?" I asked - I know this cat, very well - I feed it whenever I meet it, down in the dungeons (I catch rats from the kitchens, with a levitation charm, and levitate the live meal over to the cat - he seems to like rats).
The cat leaped up onto the bed, and hissed at me, angrily.
"Oh let me guess - you're Hermione's cat, aren't you?" I asked. It nodded, "And you recognise me?" it nodded again, "And you know I'm not really Hermione?" another nod, "So ... I don't suppose you can keep a secret? 'Cause if any humans find out, then this switch'll be permanent." yet another nod, then it curled up at the foot of the bed and watched me with interest.
I decided to ignore the cat for now, as I finished dressing, and brushed the fuzzy brown mess that passes for hair. Now ... Hermione said she had: "Potions, Arithmancy and Charms, today ..." I muttered, as I unearthed the neccessary books from her vast collection, and put them into the shoulder-bag, grabbed the bag, and made to leave. Pausing before I reached the door, I turned and asked, "So, Feline-Who's-Name-I-Need-To-Learn, what does Hermione usually feed you?" if a cat could shrug, this one did. "What do you normally eat?" I rephrased. At this, he leaped off the bed and approached me, writhing around my ankles as cats do ... and as he always did when he met me in the dungeons. "Are you trying to tell me you live off the rats in the dungeon?" it looked up and nodded curtly, "You're a mouser?" another nod - this time he looked particularly proud of this fact, "Well, that means I don't need to learn where she keeps cat-food, then ... one less thing to do." I muttered. The purring noise which the cat made in response to that comment sounded suspiciously like laughter.
* * *
I found my way down to the Great Hall for breakfast fairly easily - the portrait that leads to Gryffindor Tower is not far from our Transfiguration classroom, so I already knew the area fairly well ... I hadn't known that Gryffindor Tower was there until last night, though.
I had to remind myself to sit at the Gyrffindor table - I found Weasley and Potter sitting together, at the end of the table nearest to the staff table, with a space next to Weasley - I assumed (correctly) that Weasley was saving the seat for who-he-thought-was-Hermione (in other words me). I sat next to him, "Hi." I said, trying to act friendly.
"Morning, Hermione." Potter said politely.
"Hi, Hermione." Weasley said, smiling, "you not having any breakfast?" he then asked, sounding concerned. "Here." and he reached across the table, snatching a few slices of toast, and the bowl of raspberry jam, and handing them to me. This was good - I wouldn't have known what Hermione usually ate, if Weasley hadn't been so polite ... I guess he has his uses.
"Thanks." I said, accepting the offered food, "I still feel a little off-colour, from that curse, Yesterday." I admitted. It wasn't a lie - it was an understatement.
Weasley nodded in an understanding way, "Anything involving Malfoy has to be unpleasant." he said, as if he thought that would cheer me up - I guess it should have cheered Hermione up, if she'd heard it.
"What was that curse, anyway?" Potter asked.
I was thankful for the change-of-topic from what Weasley had said. "Just trying to teach Malfoy a lesson." I answered truthfully. Well that was technically true, wasn't it?
"Did it work?" Potter asked hopefully.
"Not yet ... it might, though - give it time." I answered.
I started spreading jam on the toast - I usually eat bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast, but I had to behave as Hermione would, so I settled for the food Weasley had given me, under the assumption that he knows what his own girlfriend likes to eat for breakfast.
I glanced across the Hall, and was mildly surprised to see that Hermione was eating my usual breakfast. Maybe she'd used the same trick I had, or maybe it was a lucky guess ... I considered, very briefly, the notion that she used to watch me and knew what I ate because of that - that thought disturbed me so I abandoned the idea as a bad one.
I finished my breakfast fairly quickly - Potter and Weasley were still eating. I decided that the best thing to do was read - that's what Hermione would do. I took out the Potions book and started reading over the homework that Hermione had already finished before the switch. All her answers were, as usual, correct. I still have trouble understanding how a Mudblood can be better than a Pureblood, at anything, let alone magic - she always manages to get higher grades than me.
"You're reading POTIONS?" Weasley asked.
"Yes - is there something wrong with that?" I asked in response.
"Well ... you usually don't read Potions in front of anyone - it's like your silent protest against Snape - you told me if no one SEES you studying his subject, they'll think you're not studying it." Weasley said.
"Well I wanted to check that I'd done my homework for this morning properly." I answered.
Weasley shrugged and accepted this without question. If I (as myself, not as Hermione) had told him the sky was blue (which it is right now, I thought as I looked up at the enchanted ceiling) he would have questioned it.
At that moment, the twit-with-the-camera (I think his name is Colin Creepy, or something like that) appeared. "Harry Potter, can I ask you something?" he asked. Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that - this kid is a pure pest ... I actually like him, in spite of his Gryffindor-Mudblood status, purely because he only pesters Potter.
"Uh - not right now, Colin - I've got to get to Potions class, now." Potter said, looking at Weasley and I, meaningfully. Potions class didn't start for another fifteen minutes ... I suppose it's as good an excuse as any to get away from the Creepy kid.
I put the Potions book away and stood up at the same time as Weasley and Potter - both of them left the Hall as quickly as possible. "Sorry, Colin - maybe you can catch him later." I said sympathetically, before following Potter and Weasley out of the Hall. I'm sure Hermione would have done something similar - and if not, then it'll annoy Potter ... it's a win-win situation, for me.
* * *
I wandered down towards Potions class, at a leisurely pace - Potter and Weasley walked next to me. We were extremely early, thanks to Creepy, and Potter didn't want to be first there - no Gryffindor wanted to get there first. As we walked, Weasley told me a horror-story, which his older twin brothers had most-likely made up, about what had supposedly happened when they (the Weasley twins) had been the first students to get to Potions class - this story is most likely the reason that no Gryffindor ever wants to be first to Potions.
"Haven't you already told me this?" I asked - I guessed that he had told Hermione this story before, but I wasn't sure if he had or not - that's why I worded it as a question.
"Probably ... I think I told you it when we were in second year." he admitted.
I nodded knowningly, and Weasley looked sheepish. I've never seen him look like that - like he's admitting a mistake - he'd never let me (as myself - Draco Malfoy) see him show weakness.
When we arrived at the Potions classroom, Vincent and Gregory were already there, looking a bit confused, for the lack of someone who looked like Draco Malfoy to tell them what to do ... Hermione must have still been in the Great Hall - I hope he's not late, because if he is, Snape'll be verging on homicidal - he may blame and take it out on the Gryffindors, but he'll think it's my (me - as Draco Malfoy's) fault. Pansy and Blaise were there, as well. Being the more intelligent of the four, Pansy took the lead in my absence.
"Hey, Potter. What've you done with my Draco?" she asked. Her Draco? HER DRACO? I wanted to strangle the bitch, but refrained from doing so, because that would have given the whole body-switch thing away.
"What? He's not glued to your slutty arm?" Weasley asked. I smirked - insult Pansy - this is a perfect opportunity.
"You know." I spoke up, "We agree -" I indicated Weasley and Potter, at this point, to show that I wasn't saying Pansy agreed with what I was about to say, "- that Malfoy is a low-life, but even he is too good for you, Parkinson."
Pansy sniffed arrogantly, "Like you would know, Mudblood. You're beneath even the lowest of the low."
I blinked, "You got some catching up, then." I said smirking.
"Uh-oh. Cat fight." Vincent said dumbly.
"As if I'd waste my energy fighting her." I snapped, "I have better things to do. I've got to help these boys with their Divination homework - don't want Trelawney to get upset, do we?" Potter and Weasley stared at me for at least three seconds before bursting into fits of laughter. Yes, boys - Trelawney's feelings are more important that Pansy - that's the joke - you finally get it. Sheesh - stupid Gryffindors - that must be why they rush into situations without thinking - they're that slow that if they stopped to think it'd take forever for them to do anything. Then again, Vincent and Gregory are at least as slow-minded as the worst Gryffindor (that would probably be Longbottom ... or maybe Lockhart).
Ah - here's he is - the most beautiful man in Hogwarts has deigned to grace us with his divine presence. "What'd I miss?" Hermione asked, taking up my usual position flanked by Vincent and Gregory.
"Mudblood just insulted me." Pansy screeched indignantly.
"Aww, too bad." Hermione said condesendingly, before turning to me, "Why don't you find a book on how to resepct your betters, Granger?" he asked, sneering. That stopped Potter and Weasley laughing.
Weasley lunged towards Hermione (do I still have to keep reminding you? Weasley thought Hermione was me), intent on punching him. Hermione stepped aside, and Weasley's fist landed in the stone wall. That's gotta hurt. I am thankful that I'm the only one who noticed that Hermione winced in sympathy before regaining his composure. "Leave it, Ron." I snapped, "Bad timing - I smell Snape." I added in a whisper.
True enough, seconds later Snape arrived. He glared at each and every Gryffindor (all but Longbottom had arrived during the ritual argument), paying specific attention to Potter, Weasley and me. He didn't miss the red marks on Weasley's fist. "What happened here?" he asked.
Hermione bit his (my?) lip knowing he'd have to say it, "Weasley tried to punch me. He got the wall, instead." he said, pointing to the slight blood-stains on the stone-work.
Snape glared and Weasley, "Five points from Gryffindor, and detention, Weasley - you'll clean that wall until it sparkles, without magic." he said with malice. Sounds fair to me - it's no worse that any other teacher would have done. Weasley may have been provoked, but he should learn to control his temper. Weasley scowled and started muttering about unfair teachers. Snape heard him, "If you want a reason to call me unfair, I would be glad to take more points from Gryffindor, unless you shut up." he added, before opening the classroom door, and leading the class inside.
Once seated, next to Weasley, I glanced around to see Hermione sitting between Vincent and Gregory. For a Mudblood, Hermione knew how to look like s/he owned the place - at least no one will get suspicious, for his posture. I quickly got out her Potions text book and the homework she had done before she cursed me. Weasley was rubbing the cuts on his hand. I felt sorry for him ... wait a second: I ... felt sorry ... for WEASLEY? Something must be wrong with me. "It's your own fault, you know. He'd react much worse to insults. He enjoys provoking you into physical violence, you know." I said invoking Hermione's famous 'McGonagall voice'.
Weasley looked at me, stunned, "You what?"
"He gets a kick out of provoking you into attacking him. Think of a good put-down, instead of hitting him - it'd be more effective." I said. It was true, too - I did enjoy making Weasley try to attack me - the advantage is I can always truthfully claim he started it. I'm not quite sure why I just told Weasley that ... maybe because he's not such a prat when someone-who-looks-like-Draco-Malfoy isn't around ... oh, well - I enjoy a challenge, so when I get my body back, we'll see if I can make him try to hit me, after telling him that.
Weasley stared, "What makes you think that?" he asked.
"He uses snide comments to get to you - do the same and it'll get to him. Besides - did you never notice his eyes light up in triumph when you try to attack him - he KNOWS you'll lose Gryffindor points for doing it - it's like he's won, even if you do hurt him for it." I whispered calmly - making sure Snape wasn't looking our way as I said it.
"Never noticed -" Weasley started, before I elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Snape." I hissed. True enough, Snape was now watching us.
"Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. If you would kindly pay attention to the board and not each other, then maybe you would understand what you were supposed to be doing today." Snape snarled. Hermione gave me an questioning look. As soon as Snape turned his attention elsewhere, I smiled at Hermione - it was supposed to be my patented evil smile, but it so doesn't work on her Mudblood-face that I'm borrowing.
We worked on Polyjuice Potions, for the rest of the class - they were supposed to take a month to brew, and ended up lasting for one hour - although it did make you look exactly like someone else of your choosing, and could be retaken to prolong the effect. Damn, but that would be useful, right about now, if we had some ready-made.
* * *
After Charms class finished, Potter, Weasley and I went down to dinner. Gryffindor table - I had to remind myself again. Hermione was already there at the Slytherin table, having been in Defence Against the Dark Arts class. I watched until he looked up at me - and something about the way he looked at me said that he wanted to talk. I nodded slightly, and turned to listen to the conversation Potter and Weasley were having about Quidditch ... not just any Quidditch disscussion, though - tactics for their Slytherin game. How could I ignore this?
"Are you kidding, Harry?" Weasley asked, "You know Malfoy'll not fall for that."
"I think he might. It worked in the practices - your sister would have fallen eighty feet if I hadn't caught her with the levitation charm." Potter said.
"Yeah, but still ... Ginny's not as good an opponent as Malfoy." Weasley persisted, "AND she didn't expect you to try to make her fall, either." Did Weasley just compliment my Quiddich skills? That's what it sounded like, to me.
"But Malfoy won't expect it either - Gryffindors don't usually play that dirty." Harry said, grinning.
"Wanna bet?" I asked.
"Huh?" both looked at me, surprised.
"I may not care about your Quidditch strategies," total lie "but I know Malfoy will expect that - a thief thinks everyone steals."
"Huh? We weren't talking about stealing his broomstick ... though that's not a bad idea." Weasley said, turning thoughtful. He'd bloody well better not even try it.
"I mean he'll expect the worst from everyone, because he is bad. Like you try to see good in everyone because you are one of the good guys." I tried to explain. Shit - why do I tell them these things? I think the switch might not have been complete - I've got stuck with some of her morals, or something. Damn - I hope not.
"I get it." Potter said, "I'm still going to try it."
"Good luck." I said, meaning it to be sarcastic, but it didn't end up sounding anything but sincere.
* * *
I met Hermione in the Entrance Hall, after everyone else had left to their common rooms. He silently nodded in the direction of the doors, and led me outside. I followed him all the way to the spot by the lake that's hidden from the castle by the Forest - I come down here often, but I didn't know Hermione knew about it.
"What were you and Ron doing?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"Just talking. Snape likes to exaggerate. He's the one who encourages Pansy to keep trying to get me to like her." I answered.
"You really don't like her, do you?" he asked.
"Hate her. That's why I took the opportunity to blatantly insult her, this morning." I said, grinning.
"Right. Question: where the Hell do you keep nightwear?" he asked, watching me.
"I'd like to ask you that same question." I said, smirking.
"Umm ... didn't have room to pack any, what with all the books." he admitted.
"I don't wear any, either." I said, tiling my head to one side, "What do we do about that?"
"Umm ... I didn't get changed before sleeping." he said, not looking at me.
"Ditto." I said calmly, "You really have an attractive body, you know?" I asked, making it fairly obvious that I was referring to her female body that I was borrowing.
If my pale face was capable it, I swear he would have blushed, "You're not too bad, either. I still think you're an evil git ... but an evil git with a great body."
"Thank you." I said, smiling, "And back to the Weasley subject - I bloody well hope that you don't expect me to do anything serious with him."
"No - no ... we're not like that, yet." he said, seeming surprised that I would think otherwise.
"Ever been with anyone else?" I asked.
He looked at me, startled, "No. Well, I kissed Harry once, but that was a deliberate planned attmept to make Ron jealous so he'd ask me out. But nothing else."
"You're a virgin?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes ... aren't you?" he asked, confused.
"Umm ... yes, but that's not the point." I said, embarrassed.
"And I'd appreciate it if my body is in the same condition when I get it back." he said, ominously.
"Huh? You think I'd want to lose your virginity for you? I may be bisexual, but I'm not really interested in Weasley, and he seems to be the only option you've left me with." I said, smirking.
"You're bi?" he asked.
"Uh huh."
"That's interesting." he said, with the tone of voice I usually reserve for when I'm plotting something.
"You are not going to lose my virginity, either. If I'm not allowed to have fun while I'm borrowing your body, you're not allowed to have fun borrowing mine." I paused, considering what I'd just said. This could lead to awkward questions.
"No?" he asked, "That reminds me. What about the bathroom issue?"
"I've been avoiding that one, too." I admitted.
"We can't go for days, maybe weeks or months, till you learn your lesson, without dealing with that." he said, frowning.
"Can you honestly tell me you don't know what to do?" I asked.
Again, if my face was capable of it, he'd be blushing, "I have a fair idea. I just think it's a scary thought."
"I give you permission." I said, grinning. "I'll Obliviate you after." I added.
He glared at me, "This isn't funny!" he snapped, "And when you said this -" he held up his left arm, "- burns, it was an understatement."
"There's no accurate way to describe it - Cruciatus is only slightly worse." I said, looking at his arm, and feeling a great sense of relief that I hadn't felt the Mark burn.
"I was lucky I was alone when it happened, otherwise people would have been suspicious." he snapped.
"Sorry - I'd gotten used to it - I didn't realise it'd hurt you so much." I said, honestly sorry. Shit - I was honestly feeling sorry for something I'd done to a Mudblood - what was wrong with me?
"Well, I hope you learn your lesson soon - Lucas Nott is starting to scare me." he said. "And you'd better hope you learn it within -" he counted something up in his head, "- three weeks." a visious grin crossed his face, that made me suddenly feel sick.
"You had better not be talking about what I think you're talking about?" I asked. I definitely didn't want to be stuck in a female body at the wrong time of the month. He nodded. Shit, damn, bloody Hell (literally), and any other swear words you can think of to add to the list. "This is bad. This is very very bad." I said, truely terrified.
"It's not that bad, but I sincerely doubt you could handle it." he said, grinning. I had always thought Hermione was a good little girl - s/he's damned evil.
"And have you realised, yet, that unless this curse is reversed within two weeks, you have to fly against Potter, for Slytherin's Quidditch team?" I asked, regaining some degree of composure.
"Oh no!" he said, "No ... I didn't realise that ... DAMN!"
"And if Lucas bothers you, remind him that you have blackmail material on him. Or, I have. Well, you're pretending to be me ... you know what I mean." I said, before turning and walking back up to the castle.
"I hope you learn your lesson, soon." he called, to my retreating back. So do I.
* * *
That evening was spent on homework. BORING. But I had to give the impression that I was studying - Hermione studies all the time. Potter and Weasley complained all evening, until I snapped, "If you want to fail your N.E.W.T.s, then by all means, go and mess around instead of studying!"
"No need to get snappish, 'Mione." Weasley said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I had to consciously remind myself not to attempt to kill him.
"I'm only looking out for your academic interests, is all." I said.
"The N.E.W.T.s aren't till the end of next school year." Potter said, sounding exasperated.
"But we need to start working for them now." I persisted, impressed at how easily I could make my voice sound whiney, now, and at how well I could act the part.
"Lighten up, 'Mione." Weasley said, "We've got ages left. We're not going to fail for want of a few hours study time at this stage."
"You want to bet?" I asked.
"Nah ... can't afford it, even if it is a dead-cert." Weasley said sadly. Hah - poor Weasley-no-money ... why isn't that amusing?
"Quidditch practice tomorrow." Potter announced, "I need to go to bed now, if I want a hope of being awake at daybreak. Damned Oliver Wood impersonator."
"Who?" I asked, confused.
"Angelina. She's team captain. She's almost as fanatical as Oliver was." Harry said, in a tone that clearly indicated he was surprised I didn't know.
"I didn't remember." I said.
Potter frowned at me, but then seemed to remember something, himself, "Madam Pomfrey said you might get amnesia."
"That must be it." I said, jumping at the excuse, "Did she say how long it'd last?" I asked, adding for good measure, "I don't want to forget anything for the exams."
Weasley rolled his eyes at me. I wanted to hit him - I didn't actually hit him, but I wanted to. "You'll be fine. She said for up to a few months. But you might not forget anything else at all."
"If I'm lucky." I added.
"Anyway." Potter said, "Quidditch at dawn. Bed - sleep - now. See you guys tomorrow."
Another half hour of studying passed, before Weasley got sick of it. "I'm going to bed, too. This History homework is exhausting. I swear History of Magic has some sort of sedative properties." he announced.
I tend to agree, but I doubt book-happy Hermoine would. "Fine. Go. I'll see you tomorrow."
I'm getting the impression that a goodnight kiss is some sort of ritual between Weasley and his girlfriend. As he kissed me on the cheek, before disappearing up the stairs to the boys' dormitary. No one else was left in the common room. I wiped my cheek with my sleeve, in disgust. Yawn. Bed time.
I wandered up to Hermione's private room, locked and silenced the door, and sat on the bed. The cat leapt up and settled itself on my lap. "Hi, cat." I said, stroking its fur, idly, "I still don't know your name." I added. It flicked its tail, but if I expected it to somehow be able to inform me of its name, I was mistaken. "I don't suppose you can give me any clue about what lesson she wants me to learn?" I asked. It looked up at me, staring into my eyes. What do I have to learn? I sighed, "Night, feline friend." I said, standing, to get the get-off-my-lap message across. I removed the robes I was wearing, and slept in the underwear.
* * *
Next morning, I saw the cat sleeping at the foot of the bed. I wish I had some idea what bloody lesson Hermione wanted to teach me. That cat gave me the impression that it KNEW what I need to learn, but just can't (or maybe won't) tell me. I dressed, using the cleaning charm on myself, again, and then went down to breakfast.
Weasley was there, but Potter was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, there were a few Gryffindors missing. Must be at Quidditch practice.
At that moment, several owls swooped into the Hall. I watched as a letter landed in front of Hermione. He put it straight in his pocket, without even opening it. Good - that's what I'd have done if I'd gotten a letter at breakfast (I mean as myself, not when I'm meant to be Hermione) - he'll probably ask me about it, later. The owl that had delivered the letter sat there, until Hermione offered a piece of bacon rind to it. The bloody owls have come to expect that. I only ever did it a few times, because I wasn't hungry enough to finsh the bacon, and now they don't go away until they've been given some.
Then a copy of the Daily Prophet found its way onto my only-just-emptied plate. I unrolled it, and read the headline. 'Sirius Black Captured'. Hadn't Hermione said to go straight to him if I heard ANYTHING about Black? He had specifically said that I was not to react to it, positively or negatively, whatever happened, but to go to him. Right. I looked up and made eye-contact with him, raising one eyebrow in a way that says 'I want to ask you something', before excusing myself, and exiting the Great Hall. Hermione caught up with me at the edge of the Forest.
"What is it?" he asked. I handed him the paper, silently. "Oh no!" he said, horrified.
"That is not the reaction I expected. Now I see why you told me not to react to it." I said calmly. A picture of serenity compared to his near-panic.
"I guess I need to tell you. I was trying not to. Sirius Black is innocent. The only people who know are the Weasleys, Remus Lupin, Professor Dumbledore, Harry, me, now you, and Peter Pettigrew." he explained.
"I thought Black murdered Pettigrew?" I asked, confusion showing on my face.
"That is what everyone thinks. Pettigrew is a Death Eater - he's got a Dark Mark, and all. He faked his death and blamed Sirius for being the Potters' Secret Keeper. And that's why Sirius is going to be ... oh, god! He's going to be given the Dementor's Kiss." he read it from the paper.
"They'd do that to an innocent man?" I asked sceptically.
"They don't know he's innocent." Hermione said, his face paler than usual.
"When is it going to happen?" I asked.
"It says, here, it'll be performed tomorrow afternoon." he said, looking like he was trying not to be sick.
"That doesn't leave much time." I noted, "Touch the Mark on your arm, close your eyes and think of Pettigrew - you'll see where he is."
He did as I said, and seemed to frown, "He's near the Ministry headquarters - I think he plans to pay Sirius a visit, to gloat."
"Nice of him." I said coldly, "I'll go and tell Harry - he'll want to do something about it - we'll catch Pettigrew and turn him in."
"One more little detail you ought to know. Pettigrew is an Animagus, can turn into a rat." Hermione said.
"Good. I'll bring some rat-traps." I said dryly, "Seriously - that's useful." I added honestly.
"Why are you acting like you care?" he asked, stunned.
"Because I believe only one person truely deserves the Dementor's Kiss, and it's not Black." I said.
"Who?" he asked, stunned.
I looked at him, smiling weakly, "You-Know-Who. I am not a loyal Death Eater. When I told you I was too young, I was lying. I'm excluded because he doesn't trust me yet - and with good reason. I prefer to sit on the fence."
"Until it gets burned down." he responded, with a sad look on his face. It resembled pity, but since I'd never shown that emotion on my own face, I couldn't be certain.
"Stay away from this. I'll deal with it. I don't want anyone to think he-who-looks-like-Draco-Malfoy would help Harry Potter." With that, I turned and ran up to the Quidditch pitch.
* * *
"HARRY!" I yelled, as I ran onto the pitch. He looked down at me, stunned.
He must have seen the expression on my face, because his shock turned to concern, and he landed. I hate when he dives like that - I keep thinking he'll get himself killed. Not that I really care about him, as a person, but I'm not big into the wanting-people-dead thing ... that's probably why I'd never make a good Death Eater. "What's the matter, 'Mione?" he asked.
"This." I said, handing him the paper. He read the headline, and his jaw dropped in shock, "We've got until tomorrow afternoon before they carry out the sentance." I said, to save him the trouble of reading the whole article.
"No." he whispered, "They can't do that."
"Well they can and they will, unless someone stops them." I said, trying not to lapse back into my usual sarcastic demeanor, as I would normally do in a stressful situation.
Harry looked at me, shocked, "How can you sound so calm?" he asked.
"Because someone needs to keep a cool head if we're going to think of something to fix this situation." I answered, trying to speed up my speech, to sound more like Hermione would.
"Well? Any ideas?" he asked hopefully.
I thought for a second, "We could tell Dumbledore. He might be able to do something?"
"He couldn't, last time." Harry responded, shooting that idea down.
"Last time?" I asked.
Harry looked at me, with confusion. Confusion turned to exasperation, and I'd bet my inheritance that he thought I was suffering from amnesia, again, "Last time they thought they'd caught Sirius. Dumbledore couldn't stop them from trying to sentance him to ... that." he hit the paper, indicating the sentance was the same then as it is now, "And we had to rescue him, remember?"
"I think so." I said, "It must be the amnesia. As soon as you said it, I remembered it."
"So we need to do something ourselves." Harry said, starting to pace around in a little circle.
"We could ask Dumbledore for advice, at least?" I suggested.
He looked at me, and sighed, "You're right."
* * *
We found our way to Dumbledore's office, and Harry seemed to get annoyed at something, "I don't know the password. It's been changed since last time I was sent here."
I smirked, slightly. Harry Potter gets sent to the headmaster's office so often, I was surprised he didn't know the password, "Skittles." I said, simply. The gargoyle stepped aside.
"How'd you know that?" Harry asked, in surprise.
"Prefects know the passwords to their head of house's office and the headmaster's office." I said calmly. Damn - I didn't exchange the head-of-house passwords with Hermione. Oh, well - that's not relevant, now.
Harry ran up the already-moving-upwards-anyway staircase, taking the steps two at a time. I followed. He knocked on the door at the top, frantically. "Come in." Dumbledore's voice said politely, from inside.
We entered the office, which I had only seen once before, and Harry immediately spoke, before Dumbledore could get to any pleasantaries, "Sirius has been caught."
* * *
Weasley had deemed it fit to join us, and Dumbledore had escorted the three of us to the Ministry. The excuse is that Harry wanted to see Black - one of the Aurors used the phrase 'Look into the eyes of the so-called friend who betrayed his parents'. I watched as Harry entered the cell where Black was chained up. Ro- no, his name is Weasley - followed Harry (I've just realised I've been thinking of him as Harry since I ran out onto the Quidditch pitch this morning - what's happening to me? I'm starting to think of my rival as human!), and I also followed them. Black was chained to a wall by magic-proofed manacles with only a bench to sit on to stop him from hanging by his arms.
Black looked up at us, stunned. "Wha-what are you three doing here?" he asked.
"Trying to help." Harry whispered, so that the guard outside the door wouldn't hear.
"They're under the impression that Harry believes the popular rumours about you and is here to gloat." I noted.
Black's lip twitched, "Love the cover story." he said acidly, "And speaking of the gloat factor, you might like to look over there." he added, nodding in the direction of a corner of the cell.
We did so, and R-Weasley was the first to react, "Scabbers!" Harry's eyes widened, and both boys lunged for the rat in the corner.
"That seems almost too easy." I whispered, watching. I drew my wand and pointed it at the rat Harry was now holding by the tail. "Finite Incantatem." I said, and the rat fell to the floor, turning into a short balding human.
On seeing this little exchange, the guard burst into the cell, "What's going on here?" he demanded.
Black looked up at the guard calmly, "If I may speak." he offered, "Allow me to introduce you to Peter Pettigrew."
Pettigrew cringed fearfully in a corner as the guard sneered at Black. "Don't lie to me, you traitor." the guard said coldly.
"He is Pettigrew." I said nervously, "Honestly."
Harry and Weasley nodded. The guard gave us all sceptical looks, "Black murdered Pettigrew fourteen years ago." he said, confused.
"I wish." Black muttered.
"Shut up, you." the guard snapped at Black. Black shrugged and shut up.
"I swear, he is Peter Pettigrew." Harry said, now also pointing his wand at the offending rodent-wannabie.
"Why not give him Veritaserum and ask him yourself ... do the same for Black, too, and he'd give you the same story." I said calmly, glancing at Black who nodded seeming enthusiastic about this suggestion. "It couldn't hurt, if we're wrong, and if we're right we'll be saving an innocent soul." I noted. Black shuddered at that comment.
The guard gave me an exasperated look, but then saw the determined expression Harry wore and decided it was best not to argue, "I'll send a message up to my superiors, and put this man -" he grabbed Pettigrew by the arm, "- in another cell with the same escape-proofing Black here has - not even an insect can get through it."
Weasley muttered to me, "No hope of Rita Skeeter getting in, then." I wasn't sure what he meant, so I nodded sagely in agreement, anyway.
* * *
When we returned to Hogwarts, the gorgeous blonde that everyone calls Draco Malfoy (that's Hermione, to you) intercepted me, as soon as Harry and Weasley left me alone. He dragged me into an abandoned classroom.
"Well? What happened?" he asked, anxiously.
"It's all right. Calm down." I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone (never tried it before, so I wasn't quite sure). "We found the rat ... there'll be a hearing on Monday. Veritaserum. He's as good as free."
He smiled with relief, "Thank God."
"You're welcome." I said, jokingly.
He stared at me for a second before noting, "If that wasn't my body, I'd slap you for that."
"I know." I said, smirking.
"Don't do that - it makes my face look evil." he said frowning.
I reached up and touched the face I was currently wearing, "This face is incapable of looking evil ... perfect cover for true evil like me, if you want my opinion."
"That's not funny."
"It wasn't meant to be." I said calmly, "Anyway ... can you at least give me a clue to this 'lesson' of yours?"
"Sorry. You have to work it out on your own ... you will eventually." he said sadly, "I just hope you hurry up with it."
* * *
That afternoon was a Hogsmeade trip ... I stayed with Harry and Ro- Weasley, as they went to Honeydukes and Zonko's, then we went to the Three Brookmsticks for Butterbeers. All in all, a relatively pleasant day concidering the company I was keeping. And the two Gryffindor boys were in high spirits from the events of the morning - Black's freedom was almost guaranteed at this rate.
We were just leaving the Three Broomsticks and Harry and Weasley were debating the merits of going up to the Shrieking Shack, when I heard a shriek from the wrong direction.
A Mudblood student from Hufflepuff had been grabbed by a cloaked and hooded figure - it couldn't have been anything but a Death Eater. I backed away nervously, but Harry preferred the Gryffindor approach, and stepped forward shouting, "Let her go!"
The Death Eater turned their attention to Harry, I'd swear there was an evil smirk under that mask. With a wave of a wand, I was magically drawn towards the Death Eater, the Hufflepuff forgotten about in light of a better hostage/victim. "If you say so, Potter." he growled ... I recognised the voice instantly, and I froze in terror ... it was my father.
I spotted Hermione (who still looks like Draco Malfoy, just to remind you), watching wide-eyed with shock.
I felt the tip of a wand pointed at my throat and bit my lip to stop myself from telling everyone about the swap - I didn't want it to be permanent ... although I could well die as Hermione, if someone didn't do something.
"That is not what I meant, and you know it, Malfoy." Harry said coldly.
"I have an offer for you, Potter." Father said calmly, "Surrender, and I won't kill her. Surrender and you won't suffer ... much."
Harry watched the situation, obviously trying to think of a plan ... none seemed to spring to his mind. Not that I could think of anything, either. "Malfoy, if you hurt her ... I swear you'll not live to tell about it." he snarled, pointing his wand at my father. This was getting ridiculous - my father own was going to kill me, thinking I was someone else, and then he was going to be attacked by my worst enemy who was trying to save my life. Could this get any weirder?
"What could you possibly do to me, Potter? You are merely a child." Father asked.
"That's what Voldemort thought." Potter replied.
"Just surrender, and there need be no blood shed here today." Father said.
"No." I whispered, "How delusional are you to think he'd surrender to you? How insane are you, to think you've picked the right side, anyway? Do you realise how petty and pathetic you are? You predjudiced git. You hypocryte. You talk about purity of blood, when you're not even totally human ... your 'Master' is trying to wipe out 'Mudbloods' when he is one! The so-called 'Mudblood' you are currently threatening to kill is better at magic than anyone in your 'Pureblood' family ever could be. You call the Weasleys a disgrace to the name 'wizard' ... but you're the disgrace!" I shouted, trying to turn to face him, with the intention of spitting in his face. I really believed every word I had just said.
Suddenly, I felt light-headed - the world started spinning out of focus, and when I found my balance, I was across the street from what was happening, watching Hermione (who now looked like herself again) squirming to escape my father's grasp. I looked at my hands - at the green and silver badge I was wearing ... I was myself again.
Still seriously pissed off at my father, I drew my own wand - grateful for the familiar feel of the ebony wood, much cooler than Hermione's ash wand - and pointed it at him, "Stupify." I said quietly. It had the desired effect - stunning him and forcing him to let Hermione go.
The Terrific Trio turned to stare openly at me. "Why did you just do that, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"That is a very long story ... and one which might make Weasley sick." I said, grinning.
Hermione smiled at me, as she walked over and hugged me, "Thank you ... you learned your lesson, and not a moment too soon." she said. I reluctantly wrapped my arms around her, returning the hug.
"Nothing like death threats to decide where someone's true loyalties lie, is there?" I asked, pushing her gently away. "Your boyfriend looks jealous." I added with a smirk.
She turned to face Ron, stared at him for a few seconds, before running over to him and kissing him passionately, on the lips. He looked a bit shocked, but didn't object.
Harry, meanwhile, turned to face me, "Why?" he asked.
"Like Hermione said ... I learned my lesson." I replied calmly.
"You just called her 'Hermione'." he noted.
"I did, didn't I."
Hermione stopped her molestation of Ron Weasley, long enough to tell me, "You can tell them now that the curse is broken." before returning her full attention to him.
"First thing's first ... get a room." I noted. I then turned to Harry, "That curse, to teach me a lesson ... it was more than you think ... much more ..."
* * *
After that, I was actually on friendly terms with Harry and Hermione, though Ron never did forgive me for requiring oxygen. All I can say is thank the gods that's over.
* * *
Finis