Chapter I: The Myrtle of Wrath

Author's Note: All italicized things are thoughts, by the way. And any reviews/ criticisms/ ideas would reek of uberawesomeness. Oh, and this takes placein the middle ofGoF, sometimeafter the second tournament.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters here. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling. ..etc..etc... ya'll know the drill.

She sat on the chilly bathroom floor, waiting for the damned potion to settle. The murky liquid rose into a bubble and popped thickly, a shade closer to the muddy colour it was supposed to be. She leaned against the stall, letting her tired eyes rest. It had taken her a month to filch all the right ingredients from various "donors", and almost another month to make the potion itself. After the last polyjuice fiasco, she thought that she'd never try it again, but difficult times require difficult sacrifices. The War had been looming ever closer, casting its ominous shadow over the entire student body. Rumors had spread like sunburns on Ron in summer, and Hermione was ready to do a small solo investigative mission. She wasn't about to involve Harry when he was so tense, and she couldn't tell Ron because Ron would never be able to keep anything from Harry.

Besides, this will be a good chance for me to practice this potion, and practice makes perfect, right? Who else would be able to pull this off anyway?

But this time, Hermione had made sure that the hair she picked was indeed human hair; she wasn't going to turn herself into half a cat woman again. When she opened her eyes again, twenty minutes had already passed. The potion had finally settled into a nauseating mud colour, indicating that it was ready for use. She took a small glass from her pocket, and filled it halfway before picking another vial up off the floor. This one contained a single hair from the head of Daphne Greengrass. She uncorked this vial and dropped the hair into the glass. The potion hissed angrily as it turned into a viscous, vicious yellow. Hermione lifted the glass, shut her eyes and gulped down its contents in one repulsive swallow. The room began to spin like a broken carnival ride, maker her stomach lurch because of her abrupt stop-and-go view. When she was oriented enough to think again, she realized she had somehow ended up sprawled across the toilet lid, and her robe was discarded on the floor. Clumsily, she got to her feet and pushed open the stall door. She gaped in surprise at the mirror.

Oh no! not –

Moaning Myrtle cackled from within the depths of her rank toilet.

Hermione spun around angrily. "Myrtle! Why did you switch the hair! I thought you were on my side!"

Myrtle glared. "I was the one who helped Harry figure out that damned tournament clue. He wouldn't have been able to do anything without me! But does the git ever come and visit! Noooo, he's always traipsing around with you! I deserve to see my Harry."

Myrtle rose up from her toilet, like a giant human squid from a porcelain lake. She picked the glass up from the floor, filled it with polyjuice, and plucked a hair off Hermione's head. She dropped the hair into the glass, and drank the entire mixture, smacking her lips with relish. Her body slowly began to solidify, and her lanky frame shrank and shifted until all that was left was a very naked Hermione Granger. Myrtle-turned-Hermione was cold, apparently, because her nipples had turned to the size of raisins. She picked the discarded robes off of the ground, and draped it awkwardly over her nakedness.

"I'm off to see my Harry! And don't worry, I won't tell him that you're secretly making polyjuice potion without him."

Myrtle-turned-Hermione flounced out the door, leaving poor Hermione-turned-Myrtle a semi-transparent mess on the girl's bathroom floor.

Oh no. Who knows what Myrtle's going to do with my identity! …Well, she'll probably try to bugger Harry, but… what if it works! How do I tell Harry it's really Myrtle's knickers he's getting in without telling him about my secret investigation? What am I going to do if –

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by an intruder in the girl's bathroom. She looked up from her kneeling position on the floor.

Drat. Of all people, why-

Draco Malfoy sank to his knees and laid his head in Hermione's lap. His pale arms encircled Hermione's waist.

"Myrtle, why is it so difficult for people to leave me alone? I get so tired of being me sometimes… I'd leave this stupid place if I could, but they've got Mother! I don't have the leisure of choosing anymore…"

He began to (Malfoys don't cry) exercise his tear ducts. Hermione could feel his accelerated heartbeats with every erratic breath.

What is this? Did someone switch identities with Malfoy too?

"You know the feeling, Myrtle. You didn't have anyone to turn to either. I want my mother back! Myrtle, what am I going to do?"

Hermione patted his head awkwardly.