Well, instead of finishing up my only unfinished fanfiction, I've been working on this new one. I feel incredibly guilty. But once something sticks in my head, I have to get it out. I don't recall any fics quite like this, so I hope it's not too cliche. I won't say it's not predictable, because it is a Drarry after all. So you know where it's headed. I think this is my first fic that takes place before the end of the war.

The story begins with the bathroom scene in which Harry uses sectumsempra against Draco. Obviously, there will be minor changes in the storyline going forward, but basic events remain relatively the same, but from a slightly different perspective. This story won't follow the epilogue of the book, though.

warnings for slash & language

oh, and I'm supposed to say I don't own the characters of the Harry Potter series, and I do not intend to make money from this story, yadda, yadda, yadda

"Sectum-" Before Harry could finish incanting the spell, Malfoy had thrown another curse at him.

"Going to try something new, were you Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized Malfoy was using Legilimency on him. There was no other way he could have known about the new spell Harry came across in his Potions book. They glared at one another.

"Got some tricks up your own sleeve, Malfoy. Two can play at that game."

Though Professor Snape had been coaching Harry in the art of Occlumency, the boy was not proficient yet. Neither was he very good at Legilimency, which he been attempting to learn on his own. Harry had a difficult time fending off Malfoy both with his wand and his mind. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble at all.

The pair took turns hexing each other, while attempting to get into one another's head. Harry was convinced that Draco, like his father, had become a Death Eater but no one believed him. He had to know for his own satisfaction. However, he doubted anyone would believe him if he told them he used Legilimens on Draco. In fact, Harry wasn't at all certain he could successfully use the spell.

A lull in the action resulted in both boys concentrating on the other. Each of them simultaneously pushed his way in to the other boy's mind, while trying to keep his own mind closed. It was mentally exhausting. Harry felt he was losing ground and feared Draco would soon have access to his innermost thoughts.

With a large flourish, Harry used all of his considerable magical strength to try and push Draco out of his head and cast a Stupify. He was successful in using the spell, but not before Draco cast a spell of his own, while maintaining his hold in Harry's thoughts.

Their curses crossed, rebounded, and crossed again. Their wands nearly grew too hot to handle. And the force of the magic sent them both reeling backwards, leaving them both unconscious on the lavatory floor. Water spilled from the faucets and broken pipes, covering the floor in a large puddle. Draco's head hit the mirror behind him, breaking it and giving him a rather large gash, along with many others from the broken glass. The blood mingled with the water in thin tendrils that grew larger by the minute. Without urgent care, Draco was in danger of bleeding to death.

A student walking by heard the commotion and burst in to find the two boys lying unconscious. A professor was called, and they were taken immediately to the hospital wing.

hdhdhdhdhd

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. His head was pounding and what little light was in the room hurt his eyes. He could hear soft whispering nearby but couldn't make out what was being said or who was saying it.

He closed his eyes again and fell back into a deep sleep.

The next time Harry regained consciousness, he felt slightly better. His headache was more of a dull pain, and the light didn't bother him as much. He could see that he was in the hospital wing. And he could clearly make out Ron's voice.

"You were bloody lucky, Harry. Malfoy could have killed you."

"Ron, Malfoy is in much worse shape than Harry," Hermione reminded the ginger.

"Yeah," Ron smiled. "Serves him right, the prat."

Harry lifted his head, which resulted in immediate pain and dizziness. Where was Ron? Why couldn't he see him? He tried again and more carefully raised his head just high enough to see Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey gathered around a bed on the other side of the room. He tried to call out to them, but hadn't the strength. His voice was so weak, it came out only as a squeak.

Pomfrey quickly turned her head in Harry's direction.

"Oh, you're finally awake," she smiled. The nurse made her way over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We were worried about you."

"Speak for yourself," Ron muttered, across the room. He moved out of the way far enough for Harry to see whose bed his friends were gathered around.

To his utter surprise, Harry saw himself propped up in the other bed, smiling and talking with his friends. The Gryffindor blinked, then noticed that he didn't have his glasses on, so he must have been seeing things wrong. He looked for them on the bedside table but they weren't there.

From across the room, her heard himself laugh. It was then that he realized he could see perfectly without his glasses. He became more confused than ever when he saw Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini rush into the room.

"Merlin, you look like hell," Blaise told him.

Again, Harry tried to speak, but only grunted.

"Don't try to talk, luv," Pansy said, brushing the hair from his forehead. "You've been out for a whole day."

"Thanks to that tosser," Blaise glared back at the other Harry.

"All right, all right," Madam Pomfrey flailed her arms at all the visitors. "My patients need rest. You can come back later, after supper."

Pansy pouted. "I'll be back for sure Draco. I promise," she called, looking directly at Harry and smiling sweetly.

Harry could only blink in response.

"Bye Harry," Ron shouted.

The other Harry grinned and waved back. "Bye!"

Before leaving, Hermione gave the impostor a squeeze.

"Feel better."

"I will. Thanks Hermione," the imposter answered.

When all the visitors and Pomfrey left the room, the other boy grimaced. "Ugh. Your friends are sickening."

He gingerly got out of bed and crossed the room, settling on the end of Harry's bed. He laughed at the confused look on Harry's face.

"Still haven't figured it out yet, Potter?"

"What?" Harry's voice, which sounded suspiciously like Malfoy's, came out as a shadow of a whisper. He picked up the glass of water on the table and took a sip.

"Don't strain yourself," the other boy said sarcastically.

Slowly, Harry's voice returned to him, weak but at least audible. "M-M-Malfoy?"

"What tipped you off genius?" the other Harry/Malfoy questioned. "Of course it's me. Or were you hoping there were two of you now?"

"How?" Harry croaked out.

Malfoy-now that Harry knew for sure it was Malfoy-shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know exactly. The last thing I remember is . . . you trying to read my thoughts. Then I cast a curse. I don't remember what happened after I flew through the air."

Harry very gently rubbed the back of his head. "I think you hit your head." He assumed, rightly so, that if Malfoy was him, he was now Malfoy.

Malfoy held his arm up. "You sprained your wrist. And banged up your back pretty badly."

"We have to tell Dumbledore what happened," Harry cried. "Maybe he can change us back."

"Whoa, you hit your head pretty hard there, Malfoy. And now you think you're me?"

"Huh?" Harry's eyes widened.

"That's all I have to say, you know. They'll all think you're barmy and you'll end up in a lunatic asylum."

"But I don't want to be you."

"Ha! I don't want to be you either."

"You just don't want to have to fight Voldemort," Harry smirked. He held his hand up to his head. "I have a blinding headache."

"All right Harry," Madam Pomfrey said as she walked into the room. "I think Mr. Malfoy needs his rest."

Draco nodded and went back over to his bed, pretending to walk with a stiff back.

"Oh, Harry, do you need a potion for your back or wrist?"

Draco nodded, trying to look somewhat pathetic.

Harry didn't have to try to look pathetic, he was in a lot of pain. "Madam Pomfrey, may I have something for my head?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

Though she was generally kind to him, Pomfrey called him by his surname, or rather, by Draco's surname. She brought three potions: one for Harry's bodily injuries, one for Draco's head and a sleeping potion.

"Take this, Mr. Malfoy. The best thing for you right now is rest."

"But-" Harry wanted to continue his conversation with Draco to figure out what they should do.

"No arguments," she said sternly. "There is nothing more important than your recovery."

"Yes Draco," Draco said to Harry. "You want to take good care of that body." He said it as a warning, but Madam Pomfrey took it as concern.

"That's our Harry, still concerned even after getting hexed by you. I hope you've learned a lesson."

Before Harry could respond, she turned on her heel and left.

The sleeping potion was already beginning to take affect, and all Harry could do was turn his head to look at Draco, who was smirking.

"Sweet dreams," he said, chuckling.

It was the last thing Harry could remember until the next morning.

hdhdhdhdhd

"Why isn't my son in a private room?" Lucius Malfoy demanded.

"Mr. Malfoy, we don't have private rooms here in the infirmary," Pomfrey tried to explain.

"Then I'll have him moved to St. Mungo's."

Harry opened his eyes to see the pair of them looming over his bed.

"That was a good long sleep," she commented.

"Draco, how are you feeling?" Lucius asked.

Harry groaned. How was he supposed to pretend to be this man's son?

"I'm all right. A little dizzy, and my head hurts. But it's not as bad as it was . . . how long have I been out?"

"About ten hours," Pomfrey replied. "I can get you something for the pain if you'd like."

He nodded carefully.

"Son, I'm going to have you moved to a proper facility."

"I'm okay," Harry said weakly.

"I want a professional to care for you, not some third rate healer."

"Hmf," Madam Pomfrey snorted as she handed Harry a vial.

Harry's eyes flashed to Draco who was trying to mouth something to him. He squinted.

"But you're clearly in pain."

"No . . . I mean, I am, but . . ." Harry was watching Draco point down at the floor. He wasn't sure what the other boy was trying to get across. Then he finally made out the words stay here. Draco seemed fairly adamant that Harry not allow himself to be taken away. It was true that the boys wouldn't be able to communicate if he left.

"Madam Pomfrey is taking good care of me. I already feel better than when I came in."

Draco was mouthing something else. Harry struggled to focus before making out the words.

"Please, Father," he said, feeling a bit ill at having to utter those words to Lucius Malfoy. "My friends are here. They come to cheer me up. And they can help me keep up with my school work."

"Merlin, you're not expected to do school work while you're in here. I'll have a talk with that old fool before I leave."

"I'm certain, Mr. Malfoy, that your son's professors will understand that he is in no condition to keep up with his studies, and will give him extra time to complete assignments," Madam Pomfrey sneered.

"I'm going to make sure he's exempt from any assignments due while he's here."

"Father," Harry grimaced. Luckily, Lucius thought it was from pain. "Please. I don't want to go to St. Mungo's. I'll be all alone. Please let me stay here."

Lucius sighed heavily. Not being able to refuse his only son, he relented. "All right. But if you're not making adequate progress, I will have you moved." He glared at Pomfrey, who stood her ground.

"I treat all of my patients with the utmost care, Mr. Malfoy. Now, if you don't mind, my patients require rest and quiet."

"I'll check in on you soon, son," Lucius said before leaving in a huff.

Harry looked up at the matron. "Sorry."

She blinked in surprise, then said, "It's not your fault. And I suppose your father simply wants the best for you."

She watched Harry down the potion and hand back the vial.

"Just call if you need anything," she said the the pair of them, then went into her office.

Harry lay his head back down on the pillow, exhausted from the exchange with Lucius.

"That wasn't half bad, Potter," Draco said from his bed.

"What?"

"Getting my father to let you stay here. Once he makes up his mind about something, it usually happens. When it comes to me, that is."

Harry shrugged. "Thanks for telling me what to call him. I very nearly called him Lucius." Harry laughed, then immediately regretted it. "I think you really hit your head hard."

"I heard them saying I hit the mirror so hard, it shattered off the wall."

"Oh. What about me then? How badly am I injured?"

Draco held up the bandaged wrist. "Just this. And my back is bruised pretty badly." He laughed. "I mean, your back."

"So, what should we do?" Harry asked. The potion was taking affect and he felt like he could concentrate a little better. "You don't think we should tell Dumbledore?"

Draco pursed his lips. "Snape. If anyone will know how to get us out of this, it's Snape."

"He hates me," Harry said.

"Well, Dumbledore hates me."

"No he doesn't," Harry countered. "Dumbledore treats all the students equally."

"Ha! He favors you and you know it."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. "We'll talk to Snape."

Grinning triumphantly, Draco said, "But in the mean time, you have to tell me how to deal with Granger and the Weasel."

"For starters, don't call them that," Harry frowned.

"Fine."

"And what do you mean, how to deal with them?"

Draco blew out a frustrated breath. "They keep visiting. And I don't know what they're talking about sometimes. They're beginning to think you hit your head as well."

"Oh. I didn't think of that," Harry said. "But to tell you the truth, I haven't been able to think of much."

"Tell me some things I need to know."

"Like what?" Harry was at a loss. Ron and Hermione could talk about anything. He thought about the things he might need to know if Pansy and Blaise came back.

"Whatever you think is important. I don't know."

"Well," Harry thought. "Hobbies? Major life experiences."

Draco gave him a deadpanned look. "Seriously? You've had about a million major life experiences. How am I supposed to learn all that before tonight?"

"We'd better get started then," Harry said. "You'll have to tell me what it's like growing up in your family's manor too. What sorts of places you've been. How long you've known Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle. Things like that."

Draco nodded. It was the last thing he wanted to do, divulging all sorts of information to Harry Potter. But if people noticed that Harry didn't know anything about being Draco Malfoy, they'd think there was something seriously wrong with him.

The pair spent the next hour reluctantly exchanging information. Draco sat listening in disbelief of Harry's childhood. Harry thought Draco's highbrow pureblood experiences were equally appalling.

Somehow, Harry had gotten the nerve to ask the question that had been on his mind since the beginning of the term. Draco answered, but asked for a secret in return.

After a lull in the conversation, each sat contemplating the other's life thus far. Harry tried to stealthily roll up the left sleeve of his pajamas.

"What do you think you're doing Potter?" Draco hissed.

"I just wanted to . . ." He pushed the sleeve back into place. "Is it really there?"

"Of course it's there. But you promised not to tell anyone. Just like I promised not to tell anyone what the prophecy really said."

Harry nodded. They each had information that could be used against the other, should they choose to.

"Okay," said Harry. "I won't look. Believe me, I don't want to look at your body."

He noticed that Draco blushed slightly when he said that, and gasped.

"Did you . . . look at me?"

"I couldn't help it," Draco defended. "I don't have a bladder spell on me like you do. I'm expected to get up and go to the loo."

Harry covered his face, mortified. "This is intolerable."

"Agreed. We need to switch back, and right soon."

Just then, Hermione and Ron strolled in carrying two trays of food.

"Hello Harry," Hermione smiled. "How are you feeling?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak.

"A bit better thanks," Draco remembered to answer. "Did you bring me supper?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "And Malfoy," he sneered. "Only because Dumbledore made us," he said quietly.

Ron walked over to Harry. "Here." He practically shoved it at Harry.

"Oi, be careful Ron," Harry said.

Ron did a double take. "What did you call me?"

"Uh, I, I meant Weasel. I hit my head," Harry explained half heartedly.

"Pft. You must have, to call me by my name." Ron took up a chair next to Draco.

"Ron, Malfoy is pretty seriously injured. You could give him a break," Hermione said.

"As if," Ron snickered. "Right Harry? He got what he deserved."

Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling at Ron. He simply nodded and began to eat.

"Look Harry, they had your favorite tonight. Treacle tart."

"I don't like treacle tart." Draco glanced at Harry nodding his head when he noticed the confused looks on Ron and Hermione's faces. "I love it," he chuckled, recovering. "But maybe I'll save it for later."

"Did Madam Pomfrey say when you'll be released?" asked Ron.

"No, not yet," Draco answered, keeping an eye on Harry to make sure he wasn't making any more missteps. "My back hurts. And my wrist."

"I brought some books," Hermione said.

"Oh, what kind?" Draco did enjoy reading.

"Text books of course. I thought you'd want to keep up on the reading assignments."

"Oh, well, I would, but I've been getting headaches," Draco lied.

Hermione picked up the Herbology book. "Then I'll read it to you," she said perkily.

"Um, I think I'll go to the library," Ron said. "Snape assigned a research paper and I can't afford to do lousy on it. I'll see you later."

"Bye Ron," Hermione waved.

"Yeah, bye Ron," Draco repeated.

"He actually thinks he's fooling me," Hermione said, a bit snippy. "I don't care if he does poorly on his paper. He'll probably come crawling to me for help the day before it's due anyway."

She opened the book and began to read. At first, Draco had to work very hard not to roll his eyes and make noises of discontent. But after a while, he found Hermione's voice soothing. She read aloud well, in a smooth, even tone. Not monotonous, yet not overly dramatic. Ultimately though, Draco's eyelids became heavy and he drifted off to sleep.

Hermione glanced up and smirked. "Well, at least you stayed awake longer than Ron," she said to herself. She looked over to Harry, whom she thought was Draco. He was also asleep. Quietly, she gathered up her books and left them to rest.