Chapter Two:
Bewitched, Bothered, And Bewildered
Ron did not know what to say at first. Eventually, he managed to speak. Or rather, she managed to speak.
"Err… Do you realise how disturbing that sounds…? Especially since I'm hearing me threaten myself!"
"This is no time for jokes, Ron! That witch has transformed me into YOU – and you into ME!" Hermione grimaced, and tugged at her jeans – no, his jeans.
" 'Mione…? Are you in pain?" Ron asked, in a small, nervous voice.
"Well, yes - Ron! I'm a girl who has just been transformed into a boy – but I'm still wearing knickers! How do you think I feel?"
"Ouch…!" Ron trailed off, as she saw her friend start to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.
"Hermione?"
"We'd better change clothing, Ron! Until we work out exactly what's going on. I should be dressed as you – and vice versa!"
Ron struggled to speak. "What! Including our underwear?"
Hermione gave Ron a look. Even whilst wearing Ron's face, the expression could only have come from Hermione…
"Right – those knickers… Uncomfortable fit now… Okay. I'll turn round whilst you undress, and…"
Hermione rolled his eyes. "Ron… Think about it. You won't be seeing anything you haven't seen before…" He paused - then added. "And, for that matter, it'll be the same for me - if I happen to glance at you changing clothes…"
"Okay! Okay! I was just trying to be a gentleman… Oh, blast it! I hope your underwear's clean…" Ron rabbited on – still disconcerted by the fact she was speaking with Hermione's voice…
"Here's what we'll do! We soak our underwear with Aguamenti spells – then conjure up a quick drying charm," the real Hermione suggested.
A few minutes later, the pair of them had sorted themselves out. To anyone else who knew them, they were simply the usual Ron and Hermione, dressed in their normal Sunday casual clothes…
"Good job we've still got our wands!" Ron-as-Hermione declared. "Now let's find that bloody witch! She must have left us here…"
"Wait! Stop a moment… Our wands!" Hermione-as-Ron put a hand on the original Ron's shoulder.
"What about them?"
"Well – we're still using the wands that chose us. And they seem to work all right. But I wonder what would happen if we swapped them…"
Puzzled, Ron pulled off Hermione's scarf from around her own neck and dropped it upon the ground – then took Hermione's offered wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" she intoned.
The scarf twitched at one end. Ron had to concentrate and try three times, before the scarf levitated perfectly.
Hermione cast the same spell with Ron's wand. The stuttering result was repeated.
"Right…" Ron nodded, understanding. "The wands still recognise their true owners, despite our change of appearance. Still – if we get this mess sorted out now, no one will have to notice that we seem to be using each other's wand."
"Yes – now let's find that Madame Skerritt." Hermione-as-Ron strode across to the nearby gate, and unlocked it. Their exit to the street was now clear. "She'd better be able to transform us back – before I get the impulse to strangle her!"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione stopped in the street and looked at each other with worried faces.
The caravan had gone. Their inquiries, conducted with the neighbouring stall holders, confirmed that the Romany had collected her horse and got it to pull the caravan out of Hogsmeade, along with its owner, in the last hour.
By now, the sky was getting dark. The pupils had to be back in the school before sunset. This rule was being stridently enforced, baring in mind the ongoing threat of Death Eaters roaming around the countryside at night…
"What exactly were you hoping would be achieved with that spell, again, Ron?" Hermione-as-Ron snapped at his companion, as they hurriedly walked back to the main school gate. They had briefly waited until no other pupils were within earshot, before speaking.
"I thought it would enable me to understand you better – and you, me!"
"Be careful of what you wish for, Ron! You've certainly exceeded your limits, this time! Another fine mess you've got me into – as a certain Muggle comedian would put it!"
"Eh? Who…? Look! This wasn't what I thought would happen!" the real Ron retorted in the usual high vocal pitch that Hermione reached whenever she got furious. "I'm sorry – again! But if that bloody woman doesn't come back – then how long will it be, before we revert to normal?"
"No idea! If we change back at all! Well, we'd better go straight to Professor McGonagall - hadn't we?" Hermione-as-Ron snapped back. "Goodness knows how many house points this idiocy of yours will cost us…"
"Er – Hermione…? Before we see McGonagall…"
"Yes?"
"You might want to wipe around your mouth. Ron Weasley doesn't wear lipstick," Ron-as-Hermione pointed out.
"Oh! Right…"
"And remember the mascara! I know you only apply a tinsy weeny bit, but..!"
"I get the picture, Ron! I'll wipe it all off…"
"Just as well you're not wearing earrings…"
"Ron! Keep quiet – before I decide to strangle you, instead of that witch…!"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
About three-quarters of an hour later, Ron-as-Hermione was sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall – her elbows slumped upon the surface, and her hands pressed against the too-bushy hair behind her ears.
She looked across to Hermione-as-Ron, who was sat besides her – adopting a similar pose, and looking equally as crestfallen.
"Well…," Ron began, still speaking in Hermione's voice. "You're the brainy one. What the hell went wrong in Professor McGonagall's room?"
"I… I don't know," Hermione-as-Ron turned pink in the face. "Like you, whenever I tried to tell her about our predicament, my head throbbed and I began to stutter. That Madame Skerritt has obviously h-h-he… Oh, Merlin! Her spell casting is preventing us from telling anyone of our problem. We can't say the 'j' word – or the 'h' word!"
"McGonagall thought we were a right pair of time-wasting fools!" Ron-as-Hermione cringed; remembering the withering look the Acting Headmistress had given the two tongue-tied pupils, before dismissing them from the office that had been Professor Dumbledore's until his sudden death last spring.
"So, what do we do now, Hermione?"
"For one thing, keep calm! Secondly – don't call me by my real name, whilst in public!" Hermione-as-Ron hissed back. "I know we've got here early, ready for the food to appear – but as soon as our friends and acquaintances come to sit with us, we'll have to be careful. For now, I am effectively Ron Weasley – and you are Hermione Granger! So that means acting out our new roles, and going to different toilets and dormitories than what we're used to…"
"Oh…that's bloody brilliant! I'll have to sleep in a room with the other girls, and listen to the likes of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil gossiping and giggling…"
"…Which means you cannot say things out of character for me, Hermione!" Hermione-as-Ron gritted his teeth. "For your information, Hermione Granger does not say 'bloody brilliant'…"
"You just did!"
"Don't make this harder than it is already! Hermione also does not say that things are 'wicked' or 'cool', just because they are trendy. And we'll have to swap our timetables. We'll also have to teach each other about shaving…"
Ron-as-Hermione tried to hide her reddening face behind her hands, as she thought of the implications.
"And waxing your legs, once you've mastered shaving…," the genuine Hermione began to count up various issues with his fingers and thumbs. "Oh – and amongst many other things, you'll need to look after Crookshanks, of course!"
Hermione-as-Ron was answered by a muffled groan.
"…And you had better not make me look bad in my classes! I have more than you, of course…"
The groan became more pronounced.
"You will need to dress properly, now that you are me – I will teach you how. For one thing, don't hang my blouse over the skirt – tuck it in!" Hermione-as-Ron continued counting off points on his fingers. "Still, if I have to be you, at least that means I'll have more time to go to the Library, and try to find any past listings where people have had their gen-gen-g… Oh, Merlin! Where a wizard or a witch has become someone of the opposite sex, I'm trying to say. Apart from the use of Polyjuice potion, of course!"
"The Room of Requirement…" Ron-as-Hermione lowered her hands and looked up.
"Yes! Good idea. We'll need to have somewhere private, where I can advise you how to adjust to being a girl – and you can help me, now that I'm a boy. We'll have to fill each other in as to what you and Dean, and Seamus, and Neville, have been talking about – and I'll tell you about what to expect from Parvati and the other girls. Lavender just ignores me these days anyway, because of your break-up with her last spring. She seems to blame me…"
Ron-as-Hermione had looked away as the real Hermione wittered on. Suddenly, she interrupted.
"Stop talking like Hermione – and pretend you're me, then! Here come Ginny and Neville. And Luna, too!"
"Ron, Hermione! There you are. We were wondering what you two were doing," Ginny began, as she sat down next to who she thought was her brother.
"Well… We were strolling around the Winter Fair in Hogsmeade, sis…" Hermione-as-Ron answered cautiously.
Ginny raised her eyebrows ever-so-slightly. "Not like you two to forget popping into The Three Broomsticks. I was there, with Neville, for over an hour – and we didn't see you pair."
"We were just having a drink – as friends," Neville quickly put in – in case Ron was going to eye him as another lad chasing Ginny. "And Luna joined us."
"You seem a bit distant, Hermione," Luna declared in her soft, Irish brogue, as she tilted her head to one side, appraising Ron-as-Hermione's expression. "Have Wrackspurts invaded your hair?"
"Luna, don't be ridiculous!" But it was Hermione-as-Ron who glared at the eccentric Ravenclaw pupil. "There's nothing wrong with m… - I mean…Hermione's hair. It looks great!"
Luna's wide, silver-grey eyes blinked as she turned to address 'Ron'. "Well, Wrackspurts like to invade anywhere that is warm and fuzzy – hair, as well as people's heads…."
She was interrupted as the evening meal materialised on the four house tables.
"Great!" Ron-as-Hermione exclaimed, her mood brightening up, as she beat the others to serving out the food. "Roast chicken and pork leftovers from dinner, hard-boiled eggs, savoury snacks, and… Er, er, why are you looking at me like that, guys?"
"Well, it's the first time I've known you to beat Ron to the food, Hermione," Neville observed. "You must be hungry!"
"Um, yes… I've got a fair appetite at the moment…"
Hermione-as-Ron suddenly snatched away the gherkins that had just been added to 'Hermione's' plate. "You don't like gherkins, 'Mione," he whispered. "You told me that – remember?"
"Did I…? Oh yeah. I mean… Yes!" Ron-as-Hermione took in 'Ron's' meaningful stare, and fell silent.
Ginny, Luna, and Neville all glanced at each other - puzzled by the exchange they had just witnessed.
"Well - I'd better get to the Ravenclaw table. I'll see you all tomorrow," Luna announced brightly, before walking off.
The remainder of the pupils were now swarming into the Great Hall and seating themselves at their house tables. Ginny and Neville sat opposite Ron and Hermione, and were soon joined by other seventh-year Gryffindor – Dean Thomas, Seamus McFinnigan, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and other girls – plus the younger boys and girls.
After their initial gaffs, Ron and Hermione tried to say, and do, as little as possible that would give them away during the meal. After the pair left, Ginny frowned and turned to Neville.
"The two of them were arguing, yesterday. Now they seem to be very much buddies again. Though I'm surprised Ron didn't eat those gherkins. He gobbles them up at home…"
Neville shrugged and smiled. "It's about time those two seriously got together. Wonder if Ron will ask Hermione to accompany him to the Ball, next Saturday? Talking of which… Who are you going with, Gin? Are you hoping that Harry will be back in time from whatever he needs to do…?"
Ginny gave a wistful sigh. "I can't be dating him. Not for real. Not whilst he's still a target for You-Know-Who…"
"But we're safe in Hogwarts! Now that Malfoy's gone – and the Vanishing Cabinet has been dealt with…" Neville countered.
"Who's to say that Lord…Thingy…hasn't still got sympathetic spies here?" Ginny took a bite of her celery stick as Neville followed her gaze towards the Slytherin table, where the seventh-year Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle were smirking and talking between themselves. The serious-looking Blaise Zabini was also involved in the conversation.
"Right… But what if Harry doesn't come to the dance? I mean, I hope he's alright – and he does come back in time… Who takes you to the Ball, Ginny?"
She shrugged. "Ron and I are supposed to be going to our family reunion, at home – now that Percy's reconciled with us!"
"Ohh…"
Ginny gave Neville a sad smile. "You know, Neville… There's a friendly six-year Hufflepuff girl in my Herbology class, who I think you'll like to meet. She's hoping to find someone to go to the Ball with – though she's a tad shy."
"Oh? There – there is?"
"Yes. Her name's Charlotte Greenway…"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Elsewhere, Ron and Hermione were in the Room of Requirement, having taken pains to make sure they were alone.
En route, they had fetched their satchels and notebooks from each other's dormitories. Ron had found it disconcerting to enter the girls' chamber in the guise of Hermione, and search through Hermione's belongings – knowing that the genuine Hermione was having to do the same with Ron's items…
Now, as they sat down on two chairs provided by the Room, Ron-as-Hermione pulled a face and rubbed her stomach.
"What's wrong with you, Ron?"
"I ate too much," the real Ron confessed sheepishly to the real Hermione.
"As you often do, Ron! The difference this time is that you have a smaller stomach, now that you are a girl. Your body has space set aside for your…lady bits…, lower down."
"Ahhh…"
"Still, I guess your appetite will get less from now on – but I'll write down a list of the foods I don't like, so that you don't arouse other people's attentions again. And you should do the same…"
"You were eating a lot yourself!" Ron-as-Hermione retorted.
"Yes, I was, wasn't I? I did feel…famished…- what with having a boy's appetite."
"Ah-hah!" The real Ron grinned. "Now you're getting the idea what it's like to be a boy! To be me!"
"Oh, shut up. Now, you'll have to read my notes on all of my classes for the last week – including potions. And I'll have to read yours…" Hermione-as-Ron got out his existing timetable and handed it over to his friend. Ron-as-Hermione's heart sank, as she saw the number of subjects she had to read up on – and she wondered how she was going to even pretend to be as clever as the original Hermione…
"Is there anything else I need to know – besides leg-shaving, applying make-up, and looking after Crookshanks?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
Hermione-as-Ron pondered on that. "Oh, yes! Of course…"
"Yes…?"
"My period's due this week. Er, your period's due…"
"What!"
"Well, you wanted to understand girls, Ron! Like I said before, you should be careful of what you wish for… And this is assuming you've inherited my body's female biorhythms. Now don't panic! What you need is in my bottom drawer, next to my bed. Don't open the drawer above that – it's got Christmas presents in it…"
"You mean that for three days…!"
"Four, actually – in my case. Sometimes. But yes, Ron! Now you'll get to know how a lady feels at 'that time of the month'. Still, it won't get any worse than that…"
Ron-as-Hermione perked up at that remark. She tried to suppress a grin, as she handed the timetable of the real Ron Weasley to Hermione-as-Ron. "Oh no? Think again, 'Mione. Take a look at my late Tuesday afternoon timeslot."
The real Hermione took the timetable and read aloud. "Extra Team Quidditch practice… Quidditch! Oh, nooooo!" He cringed and dropped the timetable, before burying his head between his hands. "I hate flying. You know that! You rotter, Ron!"
Ron-as-Hermione took a good look at her friend, and then suddenly broke out into a fit of feminine laughter.
"Urrgghh! You're giggling, Ron! Stop it!"
"Hehehe! Con-considering I might ha-have a per-period this week, I – hehehe – need something to laugh about! It's just good to know I have at least one – hehehe – one big advantage over you! Hey…!" Ron widened her eyes, as a sudden thought struck her. "That j-j-j… agghh! That spell might be stopping us telling others about our, erm, situation. But how 'bout I write it down on parchment?"
"Ooh! Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione-as-Ron got onto the floor, rolled out some parchment from Ron's satchel, and inked the quill. He started to write – then faltered. His brows knitted together and his jaw clenched, in pain.
Ron-as-Hermione sighed and knelt down besides her companion, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Don't tell me. Another headache?" She glanced at Hermione-as-Ron's writing. It was much the same as Hermione's writing had been, prior to the transformation. The writing read: 'Help us, please! We have been he…h…h…, cur…cu…cu, and are in the wrong bo…b…b…'
The genuine Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry. I really did try."
Ron-as-Hermione threw her hands up into the air. "Oh, great! So we're stuffed! What are we going to tell Harry when he gets back?"
"Well, with that j-j-j - spell - making us stutter we can't tell him anything. Can we?" Hermione snapped back. "Unless you want to sound like Arkwright from 'Open All Hours', or even like Duffy Duck!"
"Eh? Who…? What…?"
"Oh, forget it! You wizard families can be so clueless about the Muggle world! Mind you, it does prove you can survive growing up without TV – even in this country – I suppose…"
"Hahahahaha!"
Hermione-as-Ron suddenly halted his tirade, upon hearing the laughter.
Feeling a chill run through them, the transposed witch and wizard spun round to see Madame Skerritt standing in the room, just yards away. She was dressed in the same manner as during their last encounter – and was regarding them with a look of gleeful enjoyment.
Ron-as-Hermione pulled out Ron's wand from behind the belt of her jeans, and aimed.
"Turn us back, you…witch!"
The Romany woman just gave the teenagers a wide, thin-lipped smile. "Make me," she responded.
"Levicorpus!" Ron-as-Hermione called out. But the spell, meant to hoist the witch into the air by her ankle, failed to touch her. In fact, the spell just zipped through the trader.
"I'm not really here, young man. Or rather, I should say, young lady. This is my astral body! I just decided to make myself known to you. To torment you further. I've been watching you two at the Great Hall, you should know! Seeing the bemusement on the faces of your friends was most pleasing…"
"Who are you?" Hermione-as-Ron challenged the astral image.
"Madame C Skerritt, of course! In a random way of speaking. And I want you two to be aware… The jinx cannot be revoked by me, now! But don't worry – there is a way out. You've just got to be honest with each other, and get your heads together, haha…! And once you've done that – then I'll go away, and never trouble you again. Otherwise, if you are still stuck as each other by Christmas Day – then the real Hermione can look forward to an ongoing life as a man – and Ron will experience life as a woman! Until then, I'll be watching you both from time to time – not that you will see me! You pair are providing me with the best entertainment I've had in…ages!"
"How…? How can you get in here? How did you get into the castle, at all!" Hermione-as-Ron protested.
"Oh, I am far more than you think, young wizard." Madame Skerritt guffawed. She raised a hand and waved. Her image slowly began to fade. "Bye bye, for now! I might see you back to normal by Christmas Day. Of course, if you haven't followed my advice by then, you'll be stuck with your new forms…"
"Stop! Come back!" Ron-as-Hermione shrieked. But her words were met by empty air.
Silence fell in the high-ceiling room.
"Well…" The real Hermione checked Ron's watch on his own wrist. "We'll have to head back to Gryffindor tower before long, Ron. We have got to be prepared for tomorrow."
"…And the day after… And the day after that… And… Did you hear her? If we don't discover her get-out clause, we're going to be like this for the rest of our lives!"
Hermione-as-Ron sighed. "Yes, I heard her. Let's take one day at a time. Okay, Ron?"
"All right, then…" Ron sniffed. "Let's do that."
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Author's note: this chapter is named after the 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer' episode, where Xander wish for a love spell to be cast upon Cordelia backfires hilariously. The title seemed fitting for this chapter!
Also, if anyone is wondering who Charlotte Greenway is, she's a character of my own creation, who hooks up with Neville in 'Harry Potter & The Lycanthrope Legacy', which in this Potterverse, starts six months after this story.
