Harry arrived in Gryffindor House and immediately went upstairs to his room. He couldn't rip Malfoy's clothes off himself quick enough. Despite being charmed to Gryffindor colours, they were still Malfoy's clothes, and he felt grimy wearing them. He threw them angrily onto his bed, and when he took his shorts off he threw them directly in the fire.

He began pulling on his own clothes, and found they didn't fit. Not properly. His trousers were short in the legs and uncomfortably snug. He realized he couldn't do them up. Fuck. He struggled out of them, and tried for a shirt. His t-shirt was tight. It fit, but only if he was going for the near-spandex look. Frustrated, he yanked it off.

A loud cheering whooped into the room. Horrified, Harry grabbed the Gryffindor cloak he had discarded and quickly wrapped himself up in it.

Slow applause: Seamus entered, laughing at him. Neville walked in with him, grinning apologetically.

"Fuck right off," Harry said.

"Sorry mate," Neville said with a laugh.

"Oh c'mon now," Seamus said, "No need to protect Malfoy's virtue! Let's see what he's got!" Seamus took out his wand. Harry panicked, wandless.

"Expelliarmous!" Neville said. Seamus scoffed at him.

"Oi, COME ON. We're just havin' a bit o' fun, yah?"

"There's a line, man."

Thank God for Neville Longbottom.

"Bollocks, this is just a laugh. It's Malfoy's body! Harry, get a ruler."

"I'm gonna stick with 'fuck right off'," Harry said.

Seamus laughed. "Why on earth are you being so coy?!"

"Leave him alone Seamus. He's in that body, he doesn't even know what he looks like, and you wanna put him out for judgment and ridicule?"

"I'm not ridiculing HIM, just Malfoy!"

"Yeah, well newsflash Seamus, he's got to live in that body right now."

"Whatever," Seamus said, rolling his eyes and walking over to his bed. "You're such a Hufflepuff."

"Thank you," Neville said, a challenge in his eyes. "It's not an insult to say I'm fair."

"I was going for goody-two-shoes," Seamus said, digging through his trunk.

"If that's the worst my friends can say about me, I'll take it," Neville said, smiling.

"Ah-ha!" Seamus said, pulling out his Charms textbook. "I knew it was in here. Let's go."

"Er, Neville?" Harry said. Neville turned to look at him. "Ah, can you stay a sec?"

Seamus raised his eyebrows. "I'll meet you at class," Neville said. Seamus leaned over and in a stage-whisper said, "If he shows you his dong, people will pay for the pensieve."

Neville punched his shoulder, laughing. "Take your wand and get out of here, you great big pervert."

Seamus, taking his wand, used it to give a little salute as he left.

"What's up Harry?"

"Do you…do you know how to charm clothing? Nothing fits," he admitted sheepishly.

Neville's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yeah, sure mate…but…can't you do it? I mean, you don't want something fancy right?"

"No, I don't need anything like that. But," Harry had to bully himself to say the next few words. "I can't do magic right now."

Neville's eyes widened. "No shit…?"

"Yeah. Malfoy and I have to get new wands. Even then, Dumbledore said we'll have to adjust to using magic that's not our own."

Neville whistled. "That's rough," he said.

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed.

"Okay, what needs doing?"

Harry gave his friend instructions, and Neville altered the clothes Harry had chosen. "I gotta get to class, but I can do the rest of your stuff tonight if you want."

"Thanks Neville. That'd be great."

Neville smiled, turning to leave.

"And Neville?"

Neville stopped to look back at Harry.

"Thanks. For Seamus."

"No problem."

"Oh, Christ," Harry swore when he saw Draco flirting with Pansy at the main doors. She was holding his hand and saying something earnestly to him; he patted her hand, and kissed her cheek.

"Do you mind not making out with Slytherin skanks in my body?" Harry said as he approached.

Pansy snarled at him, and Draco instantly bristled. "Potter, if that constitutes 'making out' for you, then I'd wager you're a virgin." With wide eyes and a gleeful smile, Draco asked, "Oh Merlin, am I virgin again?!"

"No," Harry lied.

"I am aren't I? Pansy, love, do me a favour, start informing Hogwarts that I'll be selling precious Potter's virginity to the highest bidder…"

"With pleasure," she purred, smiling at Harry.

"Don't you dare!" Harry called after her, as she sashayed down the hall. "You complete and utter arsehole!" Harry shoved Draco.

Draco shoved him back with a laugh. "Careful, or I'll let your stalker Colin Creepy in on the bidding pool…"

Harry was about to yell back, but suddenly stopped. Starred. "What did you do to my hair?"

"I used this new invention called a comb," he drawled.

"Seriously. What did you do? It's flat."

"Correction: it's awesome. 'Flat' means boring. And I simply refuse to appear less than what I am. Despite current circumstances."

"I can't get it to not look fucked up."

"That's because you're fucked up," Draco cooed and started walking outside.

Harry trotted to catch up, realizing it was easier with longer legs.

"Okay, a moment of truth. You're not…you're not messing around with Pansy as me, are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Potter."

Harry felt relieved. Draco smirked.

Knock, knock, knock.

Side-stepping a bounding Fang, Hagrid threw open the door.

"Harry!" He cried, elated. He threw his arms wide and instinctively leaned towards what looked like Harry, and Draco sneered and flinched back. "Oh, right, not you…Harry!" He wrapped his arms around Harry, who smiled and could feel himself relax from Hagrid's genuine affection.

"Hey Hagrid. Thanks for last night. We owe you," Harry said, pointed with his pronoun choice.

"Codswallop, Harry," Hagrid said, grinning. "I'm not Groundskeeper for nothin', yeh know. It's me duty to keep tha' Forest in order. I did nothin' outta the ordinary. 'Course…" he paused, embarrassed, "I may have torn off the fron' doors to the infirmary when I got there with yeh both…Madam Pomfrey hasn' forgiven me for scarin' her…"

Noticing the bored, disapproving look on Draco's face, Hagrid flushed. "Never thought I'd ever see yeh look at me like tha'," He said to Harry, nodded briskly at Draco.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, it's been a trip."

"Speakin' of trip! Let's go!" Hagrid said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them excitedly.

Hagrid led them behind his hut, and gleaming in the fall sun was Sirius' flying motorbike. Harry felt his throat swell and harden. Sirius. He swallowed, trying to force the lump away.

"What. Is THAT." Draco demanded.

Hagrid beamed at him. "It's a muggle biwheeled locomotor! Enchanted to FLY!"

Draco's jaw opened slightly and his lip curled in distaste.

Harry laughed, Draco's expression helping him shove away his grief for his godfather.

"Oh, it gets better," Harry said, grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him around to see the side of the bike. "We get the SIDECAR."

"That's like, held on by one little strip of metal," Draco said.

"Yep."

"Made by muggles."

"Yep."

"There's no way it's reliable," Draco said.

"This bike has bin aroun' longer 'n yeh have, Malfoy!" Hagrid boomed, protective of his inherited machine.

"Oh great, it's OLD too," Draco whined.

Harry hopped in, delighted to see how uncomfortable Draco was.

"Can't we just Portkey like any normal wizard?"

"Dumbledore said we're ter go with the bike," Hagrid said importantly. "Portkeys need ter be registered, an' we don' wan' anythin' so traceable."

Wary, Draco began to climb over the edge.

Hagrid swung himself into his seat, causing the bike to tilt as Draco was delicately trying to climb over the edge. He slipped, swearing. It was cramped in the sidecar, meant for one large wizard, but carrying two teenage boys. "Move," Draco grumbled, knowing full well that Harry had nowhere to move.

"I can't, you move!" Harry retorted.

"Ready?" Hagrid bellowed, revving the bike. Draco gripped onto the side, hating how Harry laughed at him for it.

Like the sound of a laughing god, the bike roared to life and took to the sky.

Nearly two hours later, Hagrid finally landed. He pushed his riding goggles atop his head, and pulled out his pink umbrella. "Hold up," he said, rapping each boy over the head with it.

"Ow," Malfoy complained. "You incompetent—"

"Where are we Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Best not speak now, yeh both," Hagrid said gruffly, giving a nod when the Disillusionment charm completed. "Alrigh'. Let's go."

Hagrid had parked along a dirt road. Tall yellow grass swayed around them. It was a small village, several farmers, and one rickety looking house with a haunting of trees packed tight in its 100 acres of land.

Hagrid led them towards this house, and as they got closer Harry felt more and more like they shouldn't.

The paint was dull, molting off the house in feathery chunks, exposing the bare pink beneath. The roof, dented severely just off centre, looked almost designed to be a giant lopsided 'V', with the outer walls of the house jauntily holding their ends high in near-mockery.

With every step, Harry felt something twist in him, telling him to turn around.

"Something's wrong," Draco hissed.

"Quiet," came Hagrid's tiny growl. He seemed to struggle to continue forward as well.

Hagrid reached for the door knocker, and once his fingers wrapped around the ring it yanked his hand inside the door.

"Name."

"Wha' is this?!" Hagrid roared.

"Name."

Hagrid tried to pull his hand free, and the door tightened around his wrist.

"Let go!"

"Name."

Hagrid glared at the door, and Harry could tell he was contemplating ripping the damn thing off its hinges, but he must have thought better of it because he gruffly answered, "Rubeus Hagrid."

Hagrid yelped, "Somethin' bit me!"

A moment's pause; the door released his hand, and swung open.

Hagrid stared, but only blackness greeted him, as if someone had used Peruvian Darkness Powder in the doorway.

He stepped through, and Harry and Draco followed silently.

"Wha's this all abou'?!" Hagrid demanded.

"Johanna tells me you taste good. But has yet to taste the hidden ones."

"Yeah?" Hagrid said gruffly, still unable to see anything in the house. "Tell Johanna she won' be tastin' 'em. They're under my protection."

Bright light, the sudden change blinding the three wizards. A cackle.

"Oh, they've been tasted already, I see, I see…"

Draco glanced at Harry nervously.

"Look," Hagrid started, rapping both boys over their heads again to dissolve the Disillusionment charm. "These two are here ter hire yer services. Can you wand 'em or not?"

"That depends," said Mr. Giordano. He was in his early 100's, his olive skin wrapped as tight as canvas across his wooden bones. He was missing several teeth, and his knuckles bulged like walnuts across his hands. "Are they muggles?"

"How dare you!" Draco sputtered.

Mr. Giordano laughed, and with an agility that defied his age, sprang monkey-like to his side. "You think, you think…" His normally hunched form stood to its straightest, and he stood on tip toe to stare Draco in the eyes. "Hmm, yes. You think."

He relaxed his posture again, hunching into his comfort stance, and stole Draco's hand. He flipped it over, his shining eyes lighting over the lines and grooves of the boy's palm. Harry's palm. He frowned. "No, you are not a matching set," he murmured, monkey crouch walking to Harry. He grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled him down to look into his eyes. "Hmm. You. You fly." He released Harry's shirt and gently took his hand, eyes soft on his palm. "Ahh, there you are…" He looked between Harry and Draco.

"You have found the Switch. The Switch has found you. Perhaps you can find each other."

Mr. Giordano went to Hagrid's side. "Yes. I will wand them. It will be costly."

"As long as yeh're not plannin' ter take any more blood," Hagrid joked.

"Apologies. Johanna polices the liars. She can taste malintent," he explained, motioning to a beautiful lizard the size of a poodle. "People come, they fight through the repelling ward, they are either in true need or they want to shut me down.

"A life, a world, it needs you to be…careful," he said quietly, squishing the pad of this thumb hard against Draco's forehead: Harry's scar.

"You can go now," he said flippantly to Hagrid.

"Wha'?"

"You are disturbing everything and cannot be here."

Hagrid looked furious, then self-doubting. He turned to Harry. "If yeh need anythin'… I'll be righ' outside."

"Next door," Mr. Giordano corrected. "You forget my wards but they won't forget you."

"Righ'," Hagrid said, worried.

"We'll be fine, Hagrid," Harry told his friend.

After some reassuring, Hagrid finally stepped outside.

"Alone! The five of us at last!"

"Five?" Harry asked.

"Can't you count?"

Harry looked around, to see if there was another pet besides Johanna that he had overlooked. But to his eyes, including the lizard, it was just the four of them.

Mr. Giordano cackled. "No, no, you can't count, you're not the thinker!" He stood tall again, and stood nose to nose with Draco. He whispered, "You count. You. Stop sleeping."

"I'm not sleeping," Draco said, leaning back for want of personal space and air that didn't smell like death.

"I wasn't talking to you," Mr. Giordano said simply, hunching back down and walking towards a crate of boxes.

Draco looked at Harry and mouthed the words, "He's crazy!"

Harry grinned and nodded. He looked back at Mr. Giordano, and saw the man digging through—wands? Harry raised his eyebrows, jerked his thumb at the sight and looked at Draco again. Draco glanced over, did a double take and gave a soft, single laugh. He shook his head and smiled back at Harry. They could both imagine how Ollivander would have reacted: their familiar wandmaker wrapped each individual wand in its own custom box, inlaid with a velvet bed and a ribbon blanket overtop the wand before the lid shut. And Mr. Giordano…kept hundreds of wands clinking together in a wooden crate.

"A contender!"

Despite his singular term, he pulled two wands out.

He gave both boys a hard, appraising look, before very deliberately offering each wand simultaneously.

Harry reached for his, then froze. His left hand had automatically reached out. He dropped his hand, embarrassed and uncertain.

Draco asked, "What are they made from?"

Mr. Giordano looked up at Draco, inky eyes searching for something. "Hold. Discover."

Harry reached again, and closed his left hand over the proffered wand. He gasped. He had never felt anything like this from a wand. It—it was invasive—

He dropped the wand to the floor.

"No thanks," Draco drawled.

Mr. Giordano paid no attention to the boys, instead falling with the wand, leaning on hands and knees with his ear to the ground. He lifted his face, staring intently at the wand, its shadow, its angle.

"Jealous thing," he whispered, picking it up lovingly and returning to his crate. "Back to your orphan brothers and sisters."

Harry looked at his hand—Draco's hand. He wanted to scrub the veins of his entire arm. He was glad he dropped the wand as quickly as he had, and was wondering what had been inside it.

"Again." Mr. Giordano held out two wands, drastically different from each other in appearance. Draco turned to Harry, arms folded across his chest, expectantly waiting.

"What, you're not even going to try until you see my reaction?!"

"Pretty much."

"Git." Harry took the wand. He hiccupped. Well, that's embarrassing. He hiccupped again; and then the hiccups had no pause between, his chest aching with each firm thump, his breath hard to deliver. His hand was gripped tight around the wand. Let go, he told himself. His fingers jolted apart, the wand dropped, and the hiccups stopped.

Mr. Giordano fell in tandem once more, ear to the ground, listening to the vibrations gossip, watching the shadow's condemning texture, noting the number of times the wand tapped and rolled before resting to the ground.

The elderly wandsmith returned both wands without a word, and dug around for another offering.

So it went for hours, with Harry testing and Draco bored out of his skull. Draco would not risk embarrassing himself in public.

Mr. Giordano gripped Harry's hand, starring into the lines of his palm once more. "Your previous wand…Hawthorn."

"That was my wand," Draco said, alert at the sound of his old wand.

"Your body is spoiled, stubborn. It has not suffered."

Harry laughed. Draco glared at him. "Why are you laughing? Scars and suffering are not something to be proud of."

"Your body has expectations and is not yielding without fulfilment."

"My boyfriend would agree with you."

Harry gaped at him. "Your—what?"

Mr. Giordano cackled. "Circle's centre, thinks it stays in the same place, doesn't know it turns…." He dropped Harry's hand and returned to the crate.

Harry was still looking at Draco. "I thought you and Pansy-?"

"You and most of Hogwarts," Draco said. "Slytherin knows. But we don't spread our own business around. We're loyal."

Harry looked confused. "But…so…you'll tell your House, but not the school? Why?"

"Because Pansy is my best friend," Draco answered. Seeing that Harry was still confused, Draco elaborated. "I wouldn't humiliate her. It's very likely her and I will be betrothed soon. Having affairs, both her and I, is only an appropriate outlet if we hold discretion. Telling the world I'm gay would destroy the illusion. Slytherin is savvy to these kinds of situations and doesn't judge."

Harry felt like his world had just reeled off kilter slightly. "Why are you telling me then?" He asked gently.

Draco shrugged. "You're in my body, so chances are you'd discover I'm not straight pretty damn quick. I figure if I confide in you beforehand, your Gryffindor chivalry will keep you honourbound to keep it to yourself. Unless…you'd expect to be attracted to men, because you're not straight either?"

"I'm straight!" Harry said.

"Alright," Draco said. "Then yeah. My body would tell you."

With a wicked grin, Harry said, "I dunno, Malfoy…your body seemed to tell me otherwise."

Draco looked shocked. "What have you been doing with my body?!"

"Nothing!"

"Trollshit! You hypocrite, you get all up in my business about whether or not I'm fucking Pansy in your body—"

"Hey wait—you said you wouldn't—that was only because you're gay, wasn't it?!"

"—meanwhile you've been doing WHAT with some female—oh gods. Do not impregnate a mudblood girl."

"What?!"

"She will not be eligible for any Malfoy titles, lands, or monies. I will not accept any bastard as mine if it's fathered by you."

"Malfoy, you know I'm a virgin!"

Draco stopped. "For serious? I was joking earlier."

Harry stopped. He had been joking?! Harry huffed, a small pink creeping high in his cheeks.

"Potter, you're straight, you're rich, you're the bloody Chosen One, how are you not slipping your wand in every lioness at Hogwarts?"

"I'm…waiting."

"Waiting."

"Yes, Malfoy, waiting."

"For what?! To die and become a pervy ghost in the toilets with Myrtle?"

"Fuck off."

Draco paused. Huh. Waiting. "That's kind of romantic."

Again, Harry felt completely flat footed. How was it that Malfoy could always throw him off guard?

"Waiting for anyone in particular?" When Harry refused to answer, Draco added, "If you say 'Granger', I will laugh forever."

"No, not Hermione!" Harry said quickly. "She's like a sister."

Silence.

"Cho Chang?"

"Stop guessing Malfoy, I'm not talking about this with you."

"Fine," Draco said. "The She-Weasel?"

"I'm still not talking about this with you."

"Alright! Fine," Draco relented. "You may have felt something for a girl in my body, but attraction lives in both the mind and the body. So your mind conjured that lady-sexytimes-moment. But my body will soon educate you on men."

Harry was stunned. "Wait. You're saying…you think I'll start to like…"

"Welcome to the Cocksucker Club."

Before Harry could react, Mr. Giordano returned. He held two wands, midnight black with a fine powdering of sea-blue. Mr. Giordano held the shorter of the pair to Harry.

Harry's hand closed around it. The weight of it was comforting. It…fit.

Draco watched closely. This was the first time Harry hadn't reacted instantly with boils or creepy looks on his face or anything.

Harry felt confident enough to try a small spell. I'll choose Lumos, he thought, and the instant his intent was solidified the wand cast a blue glow.

He hadn't needed to verbalize the spell at all.

Draco reached for the wand offered to him. It was warm. And…something calling. He found himself smiling, without understanding why. "Lumos," he said, like a greeting. His wand gave a purple-blue glow.

Mr. Giordano triumphantly shrieked his pleasure at their success.

"Now will you tell us the materials?" Draco pressed, still smiling.

Mr. Giordano sat on the ground, deep in thought. "Do you ask for knowing, or for judging?"

"I'm curious," Harry admitted.

Mr. Giordano waited, and after a pause Draco admitted, "Honestly? To know, to judge, to learn."

Mr. Giordano nodded at Draco. He turned to Harry. "You. Flier. You don't want to know."

Harry glared at him. "With all due respect, yes, I do want to know."

"Your mouth says words from your brain. Your mouth is foolish. Mouth needs to take orders from your spirit. What does your spirit warn you?"

"I don't—"

"Stop. Your mouth is moving. Stop. Listen to yourself."

Harry paused, and with surprise realized that his gut reaction told him he didn't want to know. Naturally, this only made him more curious.

"I really want to know," Harry affirmed.

Mr. Giordano shook his head. "Fool-mouth Flier. Alright." He stood up again, and looked each of them in the eye. "Wood is a hybrid; Hawthorn, and Elder. The Core…is taken from the same creature." He paused to look between each boy. He pushed his thumb pad into Draco's chest. "You, have the vocal cords. Unwound, curled, at rest. You," he pushed his thumb pad into Harry's chest. "You, have a lung; a slender, narrow thing, stretched taunt in its chamber.

"As for the donor…her name was Mauria."

Both boys stared dumbfounded.

"She was young. Sweet. I stole her from the sea, and I made nearly thirty wands with her."

"She…she was a mermaid?" Harry asked. "But…they're like us. You can't…" He looked down at his wand like it had betrayed him.

Mr. Giordano clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Fool-mouth Flier," he said remorsefully.