Disclaimer: I may not own Harry Potter, or Pottermore; but nonetheless the sorting hat has spoken! House of the Snakes do I belong. ^^ (Suck it, YT!)

Written by: KillerInADress.

Special thanks to: YoursTruly. (I'm sorry I said "suck it", please forgive me?)


Chapter Seven: Redheads.


-Last time,-

"The rest of us, (Merlin forbid), will just have to make it one more day in this 'bizarre exchange'."

To the tremendous astonishment of everyone, Ron chuckled.

-And now...-


To anyone else, the Boy-Who-Lived, (currently seated in a plushy armchair by the fire), was radiating anger and resentment as he glared down at the blank piece of parchment resting atop his knobbly-knees.

To anyone else, the Savior was probably working on a late piece of potions homework that Hermione Granger had finally forced him to start, and it was safer to leave him to it lest he try to use you as an excuse to get out of his work, causing Hermione to suddenly appear from nowhere, ready to tell you off for distracting him.

To anyone else, Harry Potter was sending out one of his 'I'm brooding. Stay clear or else!' vibes that, by now, most everyone in Gryffindor had learned to read.

Then again, when has Ginny Weasley ever been just anyone else?

"What'cha' doin'?" She probed him in a brightly false childlike voice as she plopped herself down in the chair right across from the Slytherin who was currently stuck inside the body of a scruffy-haired Gryffindor.

Blaise Zabini shot the redhead a look that could curdle dairy, enhanced somewhat by the emerald green orbs of someone who had seen death twice and still survived. "Go. Away." He ordered her warningly.

"Ah-ah," The witch scolded with an annoying little wiggle of her finger in his face, as if Blaise was a small child who had done something wrong. "You'll catch more flies with honey, you know."

At this, the Italian wizard faltered. "I-excuse me?"

"It's a muggle expression," She explained, an amused smile playing on her cherry-pink lips. "Hermione taught me it. 'You can catch more files with honey than you can with vinegar'; it means that you're more likely to get what you want with politeness than you are with hostility."

Blaise stared at her blankly for a moment. "Right…" He said eventually, nodded his temporary head in a sort of tolerant way. "Honey is good, got it. And great as it is that you and Gran-Hermione are getting along so well, I really do need to concentrate on this, so if you could please leave me alone, that would be wonderful, yeah?"

The young Gryffindor frowned slightly. "What are you working on?" She asked, blue eyes darting this way and that throughout the busy common room. "You haven't got any of Harry's -or your - books out with you, and I don't see Hermione or my brother anywhere."

"The 'dream team' left for the library about an hour ago." Blaise answered as he glared back down at the sheet of paper that he was supposed to fill with ideas of what his 'wish' might be.

"And you didn't go with them?" The girl sounded surprised as she turned her eyes back on the body of Harry Potter. "I mean," She went on when Harry's shoulders tensed, giving her the impression that the Slytherin inside was about ready to snap at her again. "Staying up here in this noisy tower, instead of following them down to the quiet library when you need to concentrate; sure seems a bit counterproductive to me."

Blaise glared all the more at the blank parchment held in rough hands that did not belong to him. "It's not schoolwork that I'm working on. This is something more… confidential."

"Oh? Confidential in what way, exactly?" She asked him innocently.

Blaise really didn't like that tone. She sounded far too much like her older twin brothers' used to when they had just found a new victim to test their latest invention on. "Just something that might help me to switch back to my rightful body." He offered without looking away from the mockingly empty list. Sighing when he still felt the interested gaze of the redhead upon him, Blaise added, "Weasley, you did hear me say 'please' when I asked you to leave me to it, yes?"

"Ginny." She said almost too softly for Blaise's 'on loan' ears to pick up. Blaise furrowed Potter's dark brows when he glanced up to find the Weaslette not quite meeting his eyes.

"Come again?" He inquired slowly.

"Ginny," She repeated, a bit louder. "If you can call Hermione and Ron by their names, you can most certainly grant me the same privilege. Besides, I'm just as close to Harry as they are and it'll look strange if you keep calling me 'Weasley' all the time."

"I-" For once, Blaise was actually glad he wasn't in his own body as he was quite sure his mouth was draping open somewhat. "I… could just not call you anything at all, like I've been doing." He suggested as soon as he got his mouth working again. "It's not as if we really have to hang around each other all that much, must we?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Look, I'm not saying you have to like me or anything, I'm only requesting that you to treat me a tad friendlier. Dean and Neville are already getting suspicious as you practically ignored us all during dinner."

"Listen, I'm sorry if I've hurt your 'Gryffindorish' feelings, but I'm not Potter, and I don't see how-"

"No, you're not." She agreed, cutting across him with the first real glare Blaise had ever seen from her since his first night in Gryffindor Tower. "But you are temporarily trapped in the body of him, and I'm trying to help you keep cover long enough for this thing to, as Hermione put it, be satisfied and switch you back. Now, I get that you're a Slytherin, and this is all very hard for you to fully accept, but if you'll just stop being a prat long enough to notice, I think you'll find that this 'Slytherin Vs Gryffindor' thing isn't nearly as big as you're making it out to be."

Taking in a deep breath, Weasley looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she just settled back into her chair, light blue eyes gazing into bright green as she continued to frown darkly.

"…Are you done?" Blaise asked after a long moment of silence.

Ginny glared a bit more at him before turning her attention to the fire burning brightly in hearth beside them. "Why must Slytherin's always be so difficult?" She pondered aloud, not waiting on an answer as she pressed on, "You've done okay so far with Hermione, and my brother, but why is it so hard for you to just play along with the rest of us? I thought Slytherin's were supposed to be great manipulators; sly, clever and cunning?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow that wasn't his as he reluctantly admitted to himself that he was impressed. She was trying to sneakily manipulate him by insinuating that he wasn't living up to the characteristics of his own house, just so he might jump at the chance to prove her wrong by showing her how greatly he 'fooled' them all into thinking he was actually the Boy-Who-Lived.

It was far too easy to see through to her intentions, but he had to give her props for even attempting it. It was respectable.

"I'm not above using hexes to get you to see things my way, you know." She tried instead when wizard had failed to respond to her first jab.

Blaise 'not-so- stealthy' dropped borrowed green eyes to check both her hands for a wand. He still remembered that day Professor Slughorn had announced her to that horrid 'Slug Club' of his, praising her for her talent with a certain Bat-Bogey hex.

She didn't miss where his line-of-sight had ended up. "Don't worry; I won't cast anything unless I have to." She said with light-hearted chuckle, lifting up her hands to show that they were empty. Blaise saw it for what it truly was: an upfront and direct warning as to what will happen should he somehow foil some sort of plan he's not even sure he fully understands. No hidden risks or heavily veiled threats like a true Slytherin would make. Everything is blunt and straightforward.

How very Gryffindorish of her, Blaise mused silently to himself.

"Fine, I shall call you by your name around the others, if you so want." Blaise acquiesced in the end, feeling it the safest option left open to him. He had played against Ginny Weasley enough times in quidditch to know that she could be almost as stubborn as Potter when it came to something she most wanted to achieve. "But Longbottom and- what was it? Dean… Thomas, right? - They are on their own. If you're really worried about it, tell them Potter is sick, or has temporary amnesia or- something -Anything. Tell them whatever you like, however, don't expect me to play nice with everyone just because your Golden Boy does."

This must have been a good enough answer after all, because the redhead smiled up at him good-naturedly. "If that's the best I'll get from you tonight, I'll take it. But I promise you, if you let your guard down long enough, you might find yourself enjoying the company we Lions have to offer." She said with a wink.

Ducking his head so she wouldn't see him laughing, Blaise murmured, "I highly doubt that," before blinking green eyes down at blank paper, and remembering the whole reason he had been sitting out here in the lions den instead of hiding away in Potter's bed in the first place.

The Weaselette rose to her feet and stretched. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Harry." She teased, walking over to him.

For one frightening moment, Blaise thought she was going to make another endeavor to sit in his borrowed body's lap, and crossed his legs tightly in a hope of forestalling any and all attempts, but she simply gave him a hesitant, tender hug that shocked Blaise more than an aim at lap-sitting would have.

"Thank you." She whispered softly into his ear, before pulling away.

Blaise stared at her. "Fo-for what?" He asked. Potters' voice coming out much higher and just as bewildered sounding as the Slytherin trapped inside actually felt.

She didn't answer. Giving him another friendly smile, she made her way up the staircase that leads to the girls' dormitories. It was then that Blaise took a good look around the room to find it almost completely empty say for a few older students still working on NEWT assignments.

Ruffling the soft, dark hair of his limited time Gryffindor body, Blaise returned his eyes to the parchment and debated the idea of really getting started on it in the morning instead. He decided it might be for the best as he was very tired and that talk with the She-Weas-Ginny, -had taken longer than expected.

She really isn't so bad, Blaise thought as he stifled a yawn and stood up, extending his borrowed arms above his head and arching his back in an attempt to relieve the sore, stiff muscles.

He could see why Potter was dating her. She was a Gryffindor, yes. But she also had a backbone, and a good sense of humor, and she certainly wasn't dull… or even a scheming type of girl, like so many of the Slytherin's. No, she was honest, and dedicated, and she made for a decent conversationalist.

And she has a moderate sense of style, Blaise thought as he idly swapped Potter's passable clothing for a set of extremely questionable pajamas. She is quite an attractive girl if comes down to it… Striking features, red hair that is well taken care of, and a charming smile.

Happily slipping off Potter's ghastly glasses and unceremoniously tossing them onto the nightstand by his bed, Blaise draws the hideously 'red' hangings of Potter's four-poster; grateful for the dark blurriness as he lets the saviors' too-green eyes slide shut, finding a steady rhythm in Finnigan's snoring that reminds him somewhat of Gregory Goyle.

And she smells of something flowery, is Blaise's final thought before sleep grips him tightly, pulling him into a dream world of flowers, blank pieces of parchment, and a light, tender hug that leaves the dark-skinned wizard feeling flustered and a just bit…

Happy.


"Pansy, I can't tell you anything if you won't sit down." Draco Malfoy bit out, when the dark-haired girl continued to pace back and forth before him in the 8th year boys' dorm room.

Her steps halting, the witch turned to frown at her friend. "Forgive me for being a bit worked up, Draco, however, you just told me that the Harry Potter has 'accidently' switched bodies with a Slytherin - Blaise Zabini, no less!- and I'm just finding all this a little hard to swallow at the moment." From the way Draco was wrinkling his nose up at her, Pansy knew that she must be in more of a state than usual, but she was finding it hard to care at the moment. "Do you even know how it happened? Did Blaise swap them?"

"Pans-"

Pansy gasped, her eyes going wide. "Was it… it was Potter, wasn't it?" She demanded in an alarmed sort of whisper.

Draco let out a low groan and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to drive off the headache threatening to take over. "Accident, Parkinson." He stressed. "I did say accident. Which, normally, this would indicate that no one 'swapped' them."

"Yes, you did say that but come on, Malfoy, switching souls is something of legends and fables. It's… well, it is old magic, isn't it? So how could-"

"Parkinson, I will not continue this conversation any further unless you take a damn seat and let me explain it." Draco barked, irritation making him less patient than usual. "But if you wish to keep interrupting me, then there is the door. I wish you a pleasant evening."

Pansy, scowling for all she was worth, nonetheless took a spot on Theo's bed and gave him her undivided attention.

The blonde smiled apprehensively. "Right, then. You still remember what I said about this discussion never leaving this room, yes?"

"You wound me, Draco. You know that I would never-" At Draco's hard look, she broke off, flinching. "Yes, I understood. I will take this to my very burial chamber if necessary." She settled.

Draco really did smile this time. "It won't be," He reassured fondly. "Only… you remember Potions yesterday?"

"Not particularly," She said slowly, a sheepish look creeping onto her face. "I was a bit…preoccupied that morning."

Frowning, the blonde thought back to the class in question. "Come to think of it, didn't you and that Gryffindor get a warning because you failed to turn in your potion?"

The sheepish look turned full-on guilty as the dark-haired girl bowed her head. "Yes," She confirmed.

Raising one pale eyebrow, Draco tactfully didn't comment further. "Well, do you at least recall Blaise and Potter getting into a dispute?"

"Yes… yes, I think I do. Someone got injured, right?"

Draco nodded. "Correct. Both of them, actually. See, Potter was," He lowered to voice to mumble, "(as usual,)" under his breath before going on, "not paying any attention to what he was doing, and when Blaise tried to get Potter's attention, the idiot jumped and cut them both with his knife."

Pansy tightened her lips, trying to hold in her commentary and motioning for Draco to finish his story.

"Apparently," Draco carried on with a sigh. "Potter was cutting a Bear Stone for the potion and when it got into their bloodstreams, it…well, it set off some kind of reaction, and here we are."

"But that was silver Bear Stone," She pointed out, dark brows knitting together as she thought. "Sliver Bear Stone isn't toxic or even magically potent on its own, contrary to popular belief. So, unless Potter wasn't using a sliver blade, then there wouldn't have been anything for the stone to react to."

Damn it. It had momentarily slipped Draco's mind how good a Potions' student the girl was. Draco gave her a resigned nod of agreement. "It was probably the mix of blood, location, and eye contact that responded to the stone dust."

Pansy froze, shoulder muscles tightening as she, very slowly, met Draco's grey eyes with her own hazel ones. "Are you saying what… what I think you're saying?" She inquired cryptically, looking around the empty common room with an edgy tension.

"I'm sure I don't know what-"

"Draco, don't you dare lie to me!"

The pale wizard sniffed, affronted, but did not answer.

All the same, his silence was as good as a confirmation. They both knew it.

Pansy released a shaky breath. "I thought you said it was an accident?" She accused. Her voice had dropped down to nothing more than a whisper as she continued to sit atop the bed across from Malfoy's, ridged and uneasy.

"It was," Draco insisted.

The witch laughed, sounding almost hysterical as she lent forwards towards the blonde and hissed. "Binding union magic is not something you just do by fucking accident!"

"You think I don't know that!" Draco thundered at her, losing his temper. "I grew up hearing the same stories you did, Pans. I know what that type of magic does to a wizard. All I'm saying is Harry Potter, - ignorant git that he is-had no idea what he was doing when he idiotically shoved his blood-covered hands over Zabini's open wound, before starting up a staring contest with him for Merlin knows' what reason. Gryffindor's' stupidity, I'd imagine."

"Draco…" The hazel eyed witch stopped herself, looking uncertain for a moment more before she cautiously rose and made her over to sit next to the other Slytherin. "Draco, how can you be sure?" She asked anxiously.

Draco frowned deeply at the girl. "Be sure of what?"

"That Potter didn't- that Potter wasn't aware of what he was doing when he… you know…" She gestured vaguely with her hands. "Did it."

Feeling laughter bubbling up inside him at the thought, the blonde held it in, only letting his thin lips lift in a small smile as he put his arm around the girl. "Pansy, don't be ridiculous. This is Potter we are talking about."

"I don't have the tolerance for your absurd pettiness towards the man, Draco. This is serious." She snapped at him sternly, pulling away and giving the blonde man a solemn expression that made Draco raise both eyebrows, taken aback by her harsh tone. "I know Blaise well enough to know that, for all his talk, he wouldn't be foolish enough to try his hand at such arts as binding unions - assuming he actually had a sufficient amount of knowledge on the subject to be able to even attempt it -, but Potter's different. He survived the killing curse at least once, - if not twice-, and he has shown himself to be a powerful wizard, even at the young age of fourteen when he won the Tri-wizard cup. How can you be sure that he isn't-"

"Pansy, would you listen to yourself?!" Draco interjected, disbelievingly. He took in a deep breath. "Salazar's sake, Pans. I haven't heard you sound so grave since Witch Weekly printed that article claiming that 'mauve' was the new 'in'."

She didn't even crack a smile.

Draco exhaled a bit more noisily than he meant too and shook his head. "Look, I get that this news has upset you, and I'm sorry. Truly, I am." He added when she sent him a dubious glance. "But you're talking about the Harry Potter. The 'Boy-Who-Lived'; Mr. Living embodiment of Godric Gryffindor and all he -and his house- stands for, himself. Harry Potter, defeater of Dark Lords' since he was an infant. Harry sodding Potter, who wears his heart on his bloody sleeve and is brave, and noble, and kindhearted to a fault. Disgustingly so."

For a long moment, Pansy looked at Draco with surprise. The last time Draco had said so many nice things about the Golden Boy in one conversation, it had been nearly a week after the Death Eater trials, and Draco had ranted on and on about how 'perfectly gallant' Potter was, and what his foolish 'hero complex' would end up doing to the savior, before he reluctantly mumbled something about how he should really thank Potter for his testimony.

At the time, Parkinson had laughed at the irony of Draco Malfoy considering seeking out his raven-haired rival, just to apologize for his ways and offer up his appreciation to the man. Now though, the girl narrowed her eyes in thought. This went deeper than simple gratitude to the Boy-Who-Lived. She was sure of at least that much.

Pansy stood up and brushed her dark hair behind her ear on her left side as she turned around to face the blonde. "He isn't as 'Red and Gold' as you keep insisting he is, Draco. I know you don't believe me, but I'm telling you, there is something so…" She paused, seemingly searching for the right words. "Just so… so Slytherin about him, and I don't like the fact that he just so happened to be the first person who has ever created a union bond by misfortune. Something just isn't right about all this and it's made me uneasy."

"Pans," Draco started to say, not really knowing what he could say to that, but it didn't much matter as the dormitory room door was suddenly thrown open, startling both of the Slytherin's and revealing a panicky and frazzled Harry Potter in Blaise Zabini's body, who quickly slammed the door the moment he was inside.

Pansy and Draco both exchanged a look as neither of them had felt the wards they'd placed on the door break apart until after Potter had already shoved his way inside.

Wanting to escape the meaningful look that the dark-haired witch was now giving him, silently telling him that Potter's ability to just push his way past their strongest wards was another sign of danger, Draco turned back to the body of his friend; Where Harry was leaning his borrowed forehead against the door and panting loudly.

The sound of loud banging on the door followed not seconds after Harry's arrival, just before the unmistaken voice of Daphne Greengrass filtered in from beyond the thick wood. "Come now, Blaisey, sweetie. You can't hide in there forever. I was promised a firm-handed punishment for my bad, bad mouth and I can't wait forever."

Harry's gulp was audible as he backed warily away from the closed entry, Harry's wand held securely in Zabini's dark hand.

There was a sulky huff from other side of the doorway. "Alright, fine. Have it your way. But I'm warning you now, Zabini. If you don't man up by next weeks' recreational time, then it's going to be your sweet chocolate arse that's getting whooped, got that?" And then there was the sound of her stomping away up the stairway with a moody grumble.

Harry's sigh of relief was so long that Zabini's dark shoulders seem to droop down three feet before Harry was content enough to turn around. When he did, his borrowed dark eyes landed on the two Slytherin's and he stiffened again with a sharp intake of breath.

Draco was biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt so as to keep from bursting out into laughter. However, it was all for not when Harry saw the evident signs of the blonde fighting off a smile, and glared at him.

Pansy sent her own glower at the cackling blonde, but he could make out the amusement sparkle in her eyes even through the tears clouding up his vision.

Harry let Zabini's dark eyes shift between the two Slytherin's for a moment before his glare broke and his face started to heat up with embarrassment. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Barking mad, that one." He said over Draco's hoots of glee.

That, it seemed, was too much for Parkinson to take and suddenly she was doubled over, clutching her sides as she chortled out, "Oh. M-my. God. Potter." She wheezed out in between gasps for air, and laughter. "You should've see-seen your fa-face!"

At the use of his real name, Zabini's dark features drained of what glow it had as Harry felt his stomach drop uncomfortably.

"Merlin, I wish I'd had a camera." Draco sighed contently wiping his eyes free of moisture. "Blaise would never have forgiven me."

Pansy sobered up quickly. "I should say not, as its Potter's mortification, not Blaise's." She declared into the sudden silence now that the laughing had died away. "You'll have to excuse me; I've some homework to finish. Goodnight, Draco." She offered him one more significant look, before turning her eyes on Potter, cold and harsh as she bit out, "Potter," And took her leave; brushing past him to get to the doorway, not even apologizing when he was knocked off balance in his hurry to move out of her way.

"Er-night," He called after her as the door slammed shut. Harry glanced over at the blonde with an unexpectedly lost look. "What the hell did I ever do to her?" He asked, bemused.

Draco sneered at him, feeling more annoyed with Pansy than the Golden-Boy, but finding him an easier target than her at that moment. "You existed, Potter." He said simply, curling himself onto his bed and reaching over for his potions' book, if only for an excuse to not look at his friends' body.

"Oh, is that all?" Harry found that he didn't even have the energy to glare as he slumped his way over to Zabini's bed, practically falling onto it with a weary sigh. That Greengrass girl is something else altogether, Harry decided forlornly, just thankful that he'd managed to escape with his pants intact. "So… how much does she know?" Harry asked after a lengthy period of hush.

Draco frowned down at his potions book. He tried to work out what Harry had just asked, but his voice was simply too muffled by the pillows and Draco sighed as he set his book off to one side and pushed himself up, hanging his feet over the side of his bed.

"Pardon?" He inquired.

"I said, what does she know? How much did you tell her?" Harry repeated, also moving to sit up.

"Enough," Draco said with finality, picking up his book again.

"How much is enough?" Harry pressed. "Clearly, she knows who I really am, but does she know about the bond-er-binder uni -bindering -uh… the potions incident… thing?"

Draco frowned again, but didn't put away his book this time as he looked over at Zabini's body, Harry's guarded curiosity and apprehension shinning through Zabini's dark eyes. "I told her what she needed to know- perhaps even more than she needed- but yes, she knows about the potions incident, 'thing'. Not that it really changes much as tomorrow, Blaise will have a list full of ideas on what his wish might be, and it's only a matter of completing everything on that list until you finally switch back."

Harry hummed in thought at this. "I suppose," He said after a few more moments of quiet. "But… you don't think she'll tell anyone else, do you?"

Draco unconsciously set his potions book aside once more as he took in the anxiety filled trepidation on Zabini's borrowed face. "Why are you so concerned about anyone finding out about this, Potter? So what if the school learns you switched bodies with a Slytherin for a few days? It's not as if it's the end of the world… besides," He added, leaning his back against his headboard once more. "I seem to recall you facing the end of the world and coming out on top already."

Harry turned his temporary head away, dropping his eyes to look at Zabini's large hands. "I'm not concerned, I just…" But he trailed away with a rough shake of the head. Slipping down from the comfortable four-poster, Harry wondered over to Blaise's trunk, intent on getting out some sleepwear so he can catch an early night.

Draco watched him dig through the trunk with interest. Thinking back to what Harry had said about his wish; about wanting to be normal. He remembered Potter's argumentative reaction to Granger encouragement that they all to go to the headmistress, and his blonde eyebrows knitted in contemplation.

"For just one day I wanted to be someone-anyone- normal."

"Harry-"

"Don't, Hermione. Just… just don't."

He hadn't given it much thought at the time, distracted as he was with working out the bonds' terms to really spare consideration for much else, but now…

"Isn't there a faster way of getting through this bloody thing?" Zabini's deep voice broke Draco away from his recollections of early. Harry was grumbling under his breath to himself as he hovered over the magical suitcase Blaise always kept his things in.

"Potter," The blonde ventured with a careful kind of caution, knowing it is unwise to ask, but coming to the decision that not knowing would drive him 'round the bend in the end. "What did you mean, before, when you said you just wished to be 'normal'?"

Zabini's spine straightened, his whole body going ridged as Harry paused in his search for proper clothes to sleep in. "What?" He questioned softly, Zabini's tone taking on an abnormally high pitch to it. Draco didn't think he imagined the threatening undertone to that single word.

"Back in that classroom on the forth floor," He pressed on, holding back a sense of foreboding. "When I asked you what your wish was, you said-"

Draco cut his words short as the dormitory door was thrown open by a freshly showered Theodor Nott, and a gloomily looking Gregory Goyle, who only offered Draco a half smile before he went to collect his schoolbook-bag. Ah, Draco thought with a dawning light of understanding. Greg must be working on homework, that's why he looks so dismal.

The sight of the other Slytherin's gave Harry the escape he needed and he quickly snatched up the shower bag he'd managed to at least retrieve from within the trunk before he stood up and quickly made his way out of the room.

"What's the rush, Zabini?" Theo called after Harry, but the Gryffindor didn't answer. He merely quickened his pace to the shower rooms; grateful for small getaway he was granted.

He knew that dodging Malfoy's question would only work for as long as he was able to avoid him, but he'd take whatever he could get at this point. If he was lucky, maybe He and Zabini would switch back before the blonde Slytherin found the chance to interrogate him again. Or perhaps Malfoy would forget his question all together. But Harry doubted that.

"What's' the mat'ta with Zabini?" Goyle wonder aloud, turning a questioning look on the pale blonde, who was still resting against his four-poster headboard.

Draco just sighed and shook his head. The boy in his friends' body had practically fled at the first possible moment. Sure, Draco knew that his prospects of actually getting a response to his question had been at an all-time low to begin with, but he had hoped that, in some way, he had caught Potter off guard enough to cause the latter to profess his allegation's towards wanting a day in the life of normality.

What was normal for the Gryffindor, anyhow? Blaise's life was a far cry from what Draco would consider 'normal', and not just because he has had more step-fathers' than Draco's mother had flowers in her gardens.

This thought alone left Draco with a few misgivings about the whole thing. What if Potter was wrong? What if he only thought his wish was a common day in the average life of a Hogwarts student? As far a Draco was concerned, 'ordinary' didn't start off with waking up in the body of another individual.

Draco mulled over the idea of forcing Potter to write out his own 'wish list', (like Blaise was), just to be absolutely sure that they weren't missing anything. It was a mildly good suggestion, Draco thought as he rose from his recline and began to gather his things for his bedtime routine. Draco even felt that Granger herself would approve of his proposal that they cover all their bases, which was a comforting thought, should Potter decide to start a row with him about it.

In any case, it would have to wait until the morning before Draco could bring it to either of the Gryffindor's attention, as he was fairly confident that Potter would be evading him like the bloody plague for the rest of the night.

Feeling a prickle of irritation at this, Draco huffed out one more disgruntled puff of air, before he strolled out of the boys' dorms and in the direction of the perfects' bathroom for a highly desirable hot bath.


Authors Notes: Jeesh, this took longer to update than I would have liked. (I had to have YT to help me with this a lot because my own PC as decided to be stubborn lately.)

We've—YoursTruly and I- have added a little convo between us at the very bottom of this if anyone would like to read that.

Anyways, your reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading, you guys are ah-ma-zing! ^^ -KIAD.

Also:
BoredomPersonified, Thank you for your suggestions! I really like the idea of both Blaise and Harry showing off a little of each house, and I'm really hoping to get more of a 'inter-house unity' thing going on before it's all said and done. ^^ Really great ideas, again, thank you. -KIAD.


-Conversation between KillerInADress and YoursTruly

(Once more, I want to offer my apologies to YoursTruly. I know that you have taken every Sorting Hat quiz known to man, and wizard kind alike, in hopes of becoming Slytherin and always being Gryffindor, but just accept it; you're too brave and noble for your own good.) –KIAD

[Hey! You promised. No gloating if you got sorted into Slytherin!] -YT

(Look, thank you for showing me to Pottermore and all, -and I know I said I wouldn't gloat-, but let's face it…you're red and gold down to the very heart. You really are. Everyone else I know besides you have gotten at least one different house at least once, and as your friend, I think you should just accept it now.) -KIAD

[Yeah, O.k. And this is coming from the one who threw a fit because that quiz on Facebook put you in Hufflepuff- a very respectable house. You know I have three of my closest friends in there!] –YT

(Respectable or not, I still do not belong amongst 'touchy-feely' people. Eugh.) -KIAD

[Don't be rude. Not all of them are cuddly, just as not all Slytherin's are evil.] -YT

(Okay, you have a point. Anyways, for anyone who cares, you can find me on Pottermore at: Rainstorm23739,

And YoursTruly is: DawnNettle3652,

She is grumpy about her house placement, but she means well. She just has this thing against the color gold, and she's would've have been just as upset with the puffs too.) -KIAD

[Actually, Hufflepuff is YELLOW and black. Gold is a darker type of yellowish-bronze and I'm not a big fan of towers so being in the Hufflepuff basement would be preferable.] -YT

(What?! You sit at the very edge of high mountains and on roof-tops. Don't try to tell me you are afraid of heights!) -KIAD

[It's not the height, it's the circular staircases, rounded rooms, and the fact that it's probably crowded easily due to limited space, whereas the dungeons would have far more space . . . and corners . . .] -YT

(Ohhhh, I forgot about you and your 'thing with corners'… tell you what, you stop whining about your noble Gryffindor-ness, and I'll let you stay in my common room whenever you want, okay?) –KIAD

[ . . . ] -YT

(~impatiently taps foot~ Well?) -KIAD

[ . . . Fine. But I also want sleepovers down with the Slytherin's too.] -YT

(You're going to get me kicked out of my own house!) -KIAD

[Do we have a deal?] -YT

(Ugh, whatever. Just bring food before you come. Your awesome cooking skills may be the only thing that saves me from my own housemates.) -KIAD

[*Glares* Hey! I'm not a house-elf!] -YT

(~Smirks~ oh no, you're much better than that. You're a Gryffindor who is caring enough that even a Hufflepuff would get cavities around you. Remember the last time I so much as sneezed in your presence?) -KIAD

[. . . Point. *Sigh* Fine. I'll bring treats . . . but you bring the butterbeer! And remember, I like the cold version.] -YT

(~Mumbles~ Bloody Gryffindors…) -KIAD

[*Smiles*] -YT