Disclaimer: Mr. H. Potter, currently residing in the Wizarding world of London; does not belong, nor is owned by fanfic addict, KIAD. He is, however, willing to put up with her incessant Drarry shipping needs so long as she promises to stop breaking into his home to steal all of his left socks.

There has been no word yet on if the writer has agreed to these terms. Stay tuned.

Written by: KillerInADress.

Special thanks to: YoursTruly. (The fact that she is also missing four of her left socks is merely a coincidence.)


Chapter Eight: It Begins.


-Last time,-

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

-And now...-


He would never get used to waking up centered in a room that felt as if it was made of ice, Harry decided, mildly fascinated by the way the dark hairs seemed to stand to attention on Zabini's left arm when Harry lifted it out of the covers so he could pull back the hangings on Zabini's slytherin four-poster.

The room was dimly lit by the various torches along the walls, but that really wasn't all that surprising considering the dorms' location and the simple fact the few windows looking into the black lake were seeing into far too much depth of the waters to make out any light that might be trickling in from above.

Unnerved by the quiet of the room around him, Harry lowered Zabini's sock-covered feet to the stone floor with as much dawdling as he felt he could get away with and looked around. All of the other deep-green drapes of the Slytherin beds' were left open, showing empty beds all made with fresh sheets by the house elves.

Panicking, Harry thrust the borrowed feet the last few inches to the glacial ground and letting out a small hiss at the unforgiving chill seeping in through the thick socks even as he pulled his wand free from underneath his pillow to summon his watch. He remembered halfway through the wand movement that he wasn't himself, and that he had yet to see Zabini ever wear a wristwatch.

Feeling curious despite the unease pooling near the base of his spine at the thought of what time it might be; Harry restarted his spell, this time, summoning Zabini's watch. Sure enough, out of the chest containing all of Zabini's things; zoomed a large pocket watch with a shining gold chain. Harry caught the watch as it loomed near, feeling the smallest bit sluggish as Zabini's body couldn't move quite as quickly as Harry was used to his own arm moving when catching a snitch.

It felt… odd, to say the least. When one is used to ones' body moving at a certain speed, one feels slightly wrong footed when the body they are briefly stuck in, isn't even somewhat the same to their original one.

It was one of the main reasons Harry hated Polyjuice potion so much. Being in someone else's body had draw backs as well as advantages.

Turning the pocket watch over in Zabini's dark hand, Harry marveled at it. It seemed to be made of clear solid crystal, with a face of purest sapphire. Harry had seen some interesting clocks in his time - Mrs. Weasley's family clock, for example-, but the Gryffindor was amazed by the sheer elegance of the thing.

When Harry finally scanned the edges of the timepiece, he cursed. The dial held not numbers, planets, nor faces of loved ones; Harry found himself looking at odd shapes of what looked to be some kind of hieroglyphics. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to having to cast a tempus after all. He was hoping to avoid casting a tempus charm as the thing was always so brightly lit, and his magic was never at its finest first thing in the morning.

He might have been able to get away with guess work had the symbols been aligned on the outside of the circular piece like with the old muggle pocket watch his uncle Vernon had favored so often when they had dinner guests. Instead, the little signs and squiggles seem to cover the entire face of the watches' surface while they slowly orbited each other; going over and under one another at various points that would certainly mean something to someone who could understand it all.

"Tempus Tellus," He breathed into the room, pointing his wand rather sharply into the air before he drew out the globular movements with two small taps at either end of the rapidly glowing sphere of luminous numbers, activating the location charm that would set the numbers into the right order for his time zone.

'7:19' said the obnoxiously dazzling clock hanging in midair before him. Harry frowned heavily and waved his wand in a reverse-spherical motion, dispelling his charm, and causing Zabini's dark eyes to have to work on re-adjusting to the sudden gloom once more.

Now, Harry has never really been a morning person, but waking up to an empty dorm before it was even seven forty? That was just ridiculous.

"Slytherins," Harry declared to the vacant room, as if it answered any and all questions.

Feeling a bit put-off by the mornings' events so far, Harry was at least thankful for the new information he'd attained from his watch summoning as he turned his attention back to the trunk sitting innocently at the end of Zabini's bed. Raising his wand, Harry smiled. "Accio schoolclothes!" He beckoned, happy that he would no longer have to kneel before the stupid chest and shift through shelve after shelve every time he wanted something.

Unfortunately, Harry now understood why Zabini had categorize everything as out of the trunk shot, not one set of standard Hogwarts attire, but the whole shelf labeled School Clothes' came barreling out with a loud gust of noise and air.

Ducking as quickly as Blaise's tall, muscled body would allow him, Harry cursed zealously as the shelf - clothes and all - smacked into the stone wall behind him with a harsh sound of smashing wood.

Cautiously, Harry righted himself once more and gritted Zabini's perfect teeth. "Excellent going, Harry. Really spectacular," Rumbled Zabini's deep voice, making Harry feel even worse than his own voice berating him would have. He sighed, and cast the strongest reparo he could muster so early in the morning.

Once he was satisfied with the restoration job on the wood compartments, Harry gathered the scattered garments. They didn't have anything on them to indicate which day they belonged to, so Harry just picked out a set to wear for the day, and the rest - along with the newly repaired shelf - he put on the bed, hoping the house elves would know what to do with it.

Clutching his outfit in his other hand, Harry raised his wand once more and carefully called forth a light jumper, a pair of black loafers, (as Malfoy had called them), and Zabini's school bag.

It was going to be a long day. Harry could feel it. "Thank heavens' it's Friday," He muttered to himself as he slipped out into the hallway and up the stairs to the bathrooms. Fridays were wonderful. Harry only had two classes for the whole day and both of them were later in the afternoon, meaning he could relax in the morning and maybe take a nap or play chess with Ron just before lunch.

Except…

Harry frowned at the reflection of Blaise Zabini blinking back at him.

He was not Harry Potter, boy who only had two classes all day and who could easily play a game of chess with his best mate in the Gryffindor common rooms. He was Blaise Zabini for the foreseeable future, and Harry had no idea what type of schedule the Slytherin might run on.

Now that he was thinking of it, Harry made a hasty retreat back to the 8th years' dormitory. After the embarrassing events of yesterday while following Malfoy around and hoping he was in all the same classes, Harry felt it the safest option to see if he couldn't get some kind of class layout before he resigned himself to another humiliating day of that.

Especially since he still wanted to avoid the blonde as much as possible, in case more awkward questions were asked, when Harry really wasn't sure he had the answers to give.

Praying that Zabini was the organized type, Harry raised his wand once he reached the end of Zabini's four-poster, and summoned a timetable, agenda, and to-do list. To his surprise, all three of his summons produced a result. Two pieces of parchment flew out of the schoolbag hanging off his borrowed shoulder, while a small booklet flung itself haphazardly from the bedside table drawer.

Harry took a moment to look over all three items before deciding that the larger of the two parchments was the one that would be most useful to him. He tucked everything back into the bag containing his other school supplies, and finished getting ready before he made the slow and frigid course through the dungeons and out into the warmer Entrance Hall where many other students were lingering to talk or waiting on their friends to finish eating so they could join them in their walk to class.

The delicious smell wafting out of the Great Hall made Harry's foreign stomach address its approval with a loud growl that turned the heads of a few students closest to him. Harry hoped his blush of discomfiture was masked by Zabini's darkened skin.

Walking into the Great Hall, Harry glanced at the Gryffindor table, making eye contact with Ron, and Hermione, and giving the smallest of nods to his own body before he started his way over to the Slytherin table.

Goyle turned his attention away from his breakfast and waved him over the moment he saw Zabini's body, causing the golden-haired girl sitting next to him to look up as well and making the Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin falter in his stride.

Daphne Greengrass appeared just as sophisticated and ladylike as she always had when Harry glimpsed her across the hall and in classrooms in the past. But now, he knew better. He knew what kind of girl she really was when others weren't watching, and he certainly didn't miss that small look of relish she shot him when their eyes met.

She licked her lips a little too slowly.

Harry shuddered. Blaise Zabini must be a very brave man to be able to date a woman like that, he decided.

A dark-haired girl sitting across from Goyle and Greengrass seemed to notice that their attention had aimed elsewhere, and she turned around to see what was so fascinating. Her hazel eyes spotted Harry. She graced him with narrowed eyes before she then turned around again, her back pointedly facing the savior.

Parkinson did not look inviting in the least, and after the way the morning has started, Harry really didn't feel like he should push his luck with her so soon.

And he really didn't want to deal with the Greengrass girl after last nights' unpleasant conversation.

He scanned the table for the shock of pale blonde hair that he knows so well, but Draco Malfoy wasn't there. Feeling self-conscious just standing in the middle of the Great Hall, Harry quickly spots the only other 8th year at the house table, and swiftly sat off on the way over to him.

Theodore Nott is seated near the far end of the long table, closer to the teachers, and further away from the main student population. He's holding a thick tome in one hand, and a spoonful of porridge held halfway to his mouth, in the other. He looks a bit like Hermione does when she insists she is behind on her reading, and it's that thought Harry chooses to cling to as he takes one of the many empty seats beside him.

Nott doesn't look away from the page of his book, but his tenses up considerably when Harry settles in. Harry waits, and when the Gryffindor realizes that there are no greetings forthcoming, he clears his temporary throat and smiles awkwardly at the Slytherin.

"Hi," Harry offers.

Eyes widening in surprise, Nott turns his attention away from the book at last, letting his crystal blue orbs settle upon Harry's borrowed body. "Hello…" He says slowly after a long moment of staring.

"Mind if I sit here?" Harry asked when he is suddenly struck by the feeling that he might have accidently overstepped some sort of line with the brunette. "Parkin-er, Pansy isn't very pleased with me at the moment." He added, running a nervous hand through Zabini's short hair.

"I suppose," Nott replied, watching Harry skeptically.

"Great, thanks." Harry grinned and turned his attention the breakfast before him, picking out a few slices of toast and his favorite jam.

Theodore doesn't say anything else, but he eventually turns his attention back to his tome, spoon of porridge now completely forgotten in the bowl of half eaten grey mush. They sit in silence for a while longer, Harry enjoying his plate of delicious food, and Nott watching him distrustfully from the corner of his eye.

When the awkwardness becomes too much to bare, Harry swallows, and tries for some friendly conversation. "So," He starts, nodding his head towards the large book still held in the brunettes' hands. "What have you got there?"

Nott frowns slightly. "ADM Astronomy: Science and Relativity to Space." He enlightened, tilting one half of the book up just enough for Harry to make out the title.

"Really? That sounds… interesting." Harry remarks lamely. It amuses him how much it feels like he is talking with Hermione, and Harry has to turn away so the Slytherin doesn't see his smile and mistake it for him making fun. Zabini's dark eyes land on the other three 8th year Slytherins, and Harry's borrowed eyebrows furrow. Greg Goyle is gaping at him while Daphne Greengrass keeps looking over them, making Harry feel as if he has lost some sort of plot.

Parkinson is, (unsurprisingly), ignoring him still.

"Mm," The man hums beside him.

Harry holds in a sigh and turns back to his meal partner, giving another go at a sociable exchange. "Are you taking astronomy this year? Is that why you're reading it?" He presses.

Nott unhurriedly marks his place, closes the book, and bestows his full attention upon Harry with one eyebrow raised in a look that can only be described as disbelief. "Why are you here?" He demands.

Harry angles his head off to one side. "I told you. Parkinson and I aren't getting along at the moment… and I thought you'd make for some pleasant company." He added with another hopeful smile.

"What did you fight about?" The brunette inquires further.

Harry frowns down at a bit of uneaten toast. "Er-" He starts, but the answer is taken out of his hands when the voice of Draco Malfoy says calmly,

"Pansy is just upset that Blaise won't give her his Transfiguration notes."

Harry and Nott both spun in their seats to see the blonde standing right behind them. He waves a pale hand airily. "You know how she is. Now, you'll have to excuse us, Theo. Blaise and I have some studying to attend to in the Library. Blaise," Malfoy gestures for him to follow, and Harry turned back around to tell Nott his goodbyes when he sees the other man already rising to his feet, book and school bag in hand.

Draco notices too.

"Oh, it is all right if I go with you, surely?" Nott asks innocently when he saw the silvery eyes narrow. "It's just that I'm already headed that way myself, but if you'd rather I didn't join you, then…" He trailed off.

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but Harry, (seeing a chance to keep from being alone with the blonde along enough for there to be any more questions), got there first. Rising from his seat with Zabini's bag strap held tightly in Zabini's large hands, Harry gave the taller slytherin a welcoming look. "Don't mind him, of course you can. The more company, the better." Harry declared brightly, shouldering Zabini's bag and starting off for the Great Hall doors.

He wasn't sure what Malfoy's expression was - exasperated, bewildered, irritated -, but he didn't look back to check. Not until they had reached one of the more unused hallways that was clear except for two of the Golden Trio, (plus Blaise in Harry's body), who looked to also be on their way to the Library.

Harry felt like kicking himself. Hermione had probably cornered Malfoy and asked him to bring Harry up to the library so they could talk, and Harry had to go and ruin that by inviting Theodore Nott because he was afraid of spending even a few moments alone with Malfoy. So much for his Gryffindor courage…

Turning around at the sound of the two Slytherin's and one Gryffindor in disguise, Hermione nudged Ron who, in turn, caught Blaise's attention.

The six students came to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

"Morning Granger, Weasley, Potter." Theo nodded his greetings to the heroes of the Wizarding world, inadvertently snapping sharp green eyes away from their meaningful look into smoldering grey.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Blaise demanded, pointing Potter's finger accusingly at the tall brunette when he took notice of Theo for the first time.

Most everyone else turned to Potter's body, taken aback looks marking their faces while Draco just sighed.

Theo always believed that Harry Potter didn't have any problems with him, and as for him, he didn't particularly dislike Potter, despite Nott senior being sent to Azkaban after the fall of Voldemort. His father may have been a death eater, but Theo never took part in anything involving the war, and he had never taunted or gone out of his way to inconvenience any of the Gryffindor's. On the contrary, Theodore Nott was known for liking the peaceful, quiet life.

And as far as Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew, Blaise and Theo were fellow Slytherin's who got along just fine.

"I invited him." Harry snapped incredulously to his own body. "What'd he ever do to you?"

If anything, Zabini's voice defending him seemed to confuse Theo even more.

Blaise looked down right furious now. "He-"

"Yes, Potter." Draco jumped in hastily, sending Potter's body a sharp look. "What has Theo done to upset you?"

"You-oh," Blaise paused and looked down at Potter's hands. He seemed catch on that Theo didn't yet know who was really in Potter's body. The pause didn't last, however, and in seconds, Potter's green orbs were flashing dangerously. "Well, he's a slytherin. Isn't that all that is needed for a Gryffindor like me?" He challenged darkly.

Hermione's look of disapproval, and Theo's expression, (caught somewhere between horrified and disgusted at the words), was nothing to the cold hard stare Harry was now giving his own body. "If you were a true Gryffindor, you'd know that it doesn't work like that."

Blaise gave a rude noise of doubt, but it was Draco who spoke up next. "Back off, Potter." He warned. "This isn't your fight." And although he kept his eyes trained on Potter's body, Harry had the feeling the words were directed towards the real him.

"Like hell it isn't!" Harry rounded on the blonde.

Blaise took Harry's distraction as an opportunity to advance, getting into his face so he could glare into his own dark eyes. "And if you were a true Gryffindor," He said lowly. Ominously. "Then maybe you'd do something about the damage they do to the innocent snakes."

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded, returning the glare with his own borrowed one. He spared one fleeting thought to how weird it was to see his own green eyes gazing up at him with rage.

"I'm talking about the 'Courageous and Righteous' Gryffindor's bullying the younger Slytherin's merely because they are sorted into a house they don't like!" Blaise spat. "And seeing as you're such an expert, Zabini, why don't you tell me exactly where 'discrimination' lands on that little 'Brave and Noble' scale of yours?"

The silence was heavy and Harry actually took a step backwards. His face held a sneer that Harry was sure he'd never had on his face before. "Wh—what?" He managed, looking to Hermione for help.

But Hermione and Ron were looking just as stunned as Harry felt.

"Tch, Typical. Don't try to tell me you, 'didn't know'," The sneer dropped in size when Blaise saw the perturbed bemusement on his own face. "You really didn't know, did you?" He asked, genuine curiosity creeping into Potter's voice.

Harry suddenly found solid ground when anger rose within him. "If I had, do you really think I would have just sat back and watched it happen?" He snapped.

Theo, who had been silently watching their exchange with interest, started to chuckle under his breath. "Great Lady Morgana," He breathed out into the airy corridor. Everyone was watching him in hushed astonishment. "You two-" He tried to say, but broke out into more laughter. When he finally regained control and straightened back up, he went on. "Oh, Merlin, You two," He repeated, pointing a finger between Blaise in Potter's body, and Harry in Zabini's body. "Somehow managed to switch bodies, right?" Theo began to laugh once more. "That is just brilliant!"

Harry and Blaise both looked at each other, wide-eyed, before remembering their earlier dispute and hurriedly looking away.

"How did you-" Ron started to ask, but Theo just shook his head.

"Potter's always been quick to jump to defense, where as Zabini has never been known for his heroism." He explained. Blaise sent Theo a glare. But neither Hermione, nor Draco looked vastly surprised that Theo had figured it out.

Theo went on with a grin. "Truth be told, I should have known that when you asked to sit beside me during Breakfast, you weren't the real Blaise Zabini."

Potter's green eyes looked about ready to pop out of his skull. "You sat beside that thing? In public, no less?" He cried in outrage.

Harry looked sheepish for all of a single second. "Well how was I to know that you two weren't friends? I've never seen you so much as disagree with each other once since we were eleven!"

Blaise scuffed. "That's because some people are civilized enough to know what should and shouldn't be kept private. Not everyone goes around hexing each other in the corridors like you and Draco."

"Excuse me?" Draco hissed icily. "I am not some 'uncouth' Gryffindor, Zabini, I -"

"You lost the right to any argument when you allowed this entity anywhere near my person." Blaise returned, gesturing towards Theo and looking completely unfazed by Draco's glower.

Theo cleared his throat, and whatever retort Draco was about to make was lost as the tall brunette said loudly, "As entertaining as this has all been, I was actually planning to make it to the library before my first class, so I must bid you all a fair well. Draco, Potter, Granger, Weasley…Zabini." He nodded to each, winked at Blaise, and then brushed past the group to continue down a hallway that was hardly ever used.

All of their voices seemed to follow the taller Slytherin around the corner as now the group of five was thrown in a tense silence.

Hermione was the first to break through it. "Zabin-Blaise," Hermione corrected herself promptly before rushing on ahead, "Did you honestly mean what you said about the Gryffindor's picking on Slytherin's? Have you witnessed it happen?"

Blaise turned to face the bushy-haired witch, a hard mask covering Potter's face. "I meant every word of it, Granger. And if you don't believe me, you can ask any of the other Slytherin's."

Draco bowed his head solemnly when Hermione turned her brown eyes upon him. "Some of the first and second years have been coming to the upper year students with their fears because Slughorn has yet to do anything about it." He confirmed.

Harry looked between his best friends. "I take it you two didn't know either, huh?"

Ron and Hermione shook their heads. "You know we would've put a stop to it if we'd known, mate." Ron reassured.

Draco gave him a sharp look. "Would you have, Weasel? Even if it involved hexing stinking Slytherin's?"

Ron's ears went pink. "Don't call me that, Ferret. And yeah, I may not like Slytherin's much, but I don't think an entire house should have to suffer just because of what some of you lot did."

Harry felt pride blooming in Zabini's dark chest. Ron certainly had grown up a lot over the years, and judging by Hermione's smile, she felt so too. "We didn't know," She said firmly. "But now that we do, we can do something about it."

Harry nodded fervently. "There has been enough fighting for one life time. Why can't people just get over their differences and move on?"

Blaise gave both Harry and Draco searching looks. "Can you two get over your differences and move on?" He asked seriously.

"Already have," Harry answered instantly while Draco said slowly,

"I expect we could, yes."

Silvery eyes met chocolaty. "What do you mean you 'already have'?"

Harry frowned. "Haven't you?" He asked, stunned. "I thought… well you know, I thought we settled everything when I spoke for you and your mum at your trials?"

"Settled what?" Demanded Draco. "You gave your side of things, accepted my graduate and returned my wand, via, owlpost, and then you utterly ignored me until you're suddenly in my best friends' body!"

"I didn't ignore you!" Harry exclaimed, flabbergasted. "I merely figured that you wouldn't ever want to talk to me again, seeing as how we hated each other for seven years and all. Then, when we do finally talk for the first time in almost a year, you act like a bloody prat!"

"I acted like a prat?! You tried to draw Blaise's wand when you first saw me!"

"I had just woken up in-"

Blaise and Ron watched this shouting match in bewildered amusement. On the one side, it was entertaining to see Zabini and Malfoy fight, Ron thought.

While on the other, Blaise was appalled to note that his neck darkened when he was angry, and that Harry Potter mistreated his hair almost as badly as he mistreated his own mop of jet black mess. Subtly, Blaise sent a hair styling charm at his own head, effectively righting all the wrong two and half days in Potter's crummy hands had damaged.

This spell went unnoticed by the two squabbling ex-rivals.

Hermione just observed the two boys thoughtfully. She contemplated their body language more than she focused on their words, and after watching Draco lifted a hand, as if to touch Zabini's body but thinking better of it at the last moment and putting it down again or motioning with it instead; multiple times, she did have to wonder if it was only because Blaise was his friend, or if it was because of the soul inside said friends' body.

"Za-Blaise," She murmured in a low tone that went unnoticed by all except Potter's body beside her.

Potter's eyes snapped to hers shamefully. "Look, I just couldn't take it anymore. That's the last hair charm today, I promise." He rambled off, guilty at having been caught by the same girl who had yelled at him that morning for taking up so much time trying to spell Potter's hair into submission.

Hermione blinked. Then she blinked again and her auburn eyes sifted over the Zabini's hair before she cracked a smiled. "Actually, that wasn't what I wanted to talk about." She said, amused. "I was only going to ask you if Malfoy is the touchy sort?"

Blaise made a face that was so reminiscent of the same one Harry always made when Hermione talked about snogging Ron, that Hermione let out a small, stifled giggle. "Touchy?" Blaise repeated the word, sounding like it was stuck in his throat. "Do you mean, is he the sensitive type?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I mean, does he often touch people. You know, like when you're talking, does he like to lay a hand on your arm, or touch shoulders when you sit by each other in the Great Hall?"

"No. Draco isn't really of a 'touchy' nature, I guess... he won't shy away from it, but it's pretty rare that he'll be the one to engage it."

Hermione hummed thoughtfully.

"And furthermore, I don't think sixth year should even count as- hey! Where are you going?"

Harry's abrupt turn on his heel caught the attention of Hermione and Blaise, bringing them back to the other three. "Left something the dorms, I'll see you later." Harry shouted over his shoulder as he half ran down the hallway.

The remaining four stood still for a long moment before Draco cursed and started after him.

"Where are you going, then?" Blaise called after Draco's retreating form.

"He'll miss class if he just sits in the common room and sulks all day." Draco answered, walking away at a more normal pace.

At least comforted by the fact that Draco wouldn't let Potter completely ruin his reputation before the weekend, Blaise turned around to see Ron looking dumbfounded, and Hermione looking, if only slightly less, amazed. "What?" He demanded of them.

Hermione snapped out of her astonishment with a jump. Weasley just blinked twice. "Nothing," She replied hastily, grabbing a hold of her boyfriends' arm. "Nothing. We'd better hurry; I still have that transfiguration homework to finish."

That brought Ron back to earth. "Hermione," He said in disbelief. "We just got that homework yesterday!"

"Exactly, that means we only have through the weekend left to finish it!" And she dragged him in the direction of the library, Blaise following unhurriedly behind.


Harry was headed for the dungeons, feeling the light headedness growing rapidly. His stomach gave a particularly violent lurch, and Harry was forced to change his course for the nearest bathroom before he lost his breakfast all over the Entrance Hall.

The sickness had struck rather suddenly. One moment, he was telling Malfoy off for being a total git, and the next he was so sure that he'd be sick right there, all over Malfoy and his pointy, expensive shoes, that Harry had clapped a hand to mouth, unintentionally allowing Malfoy to believe that he'd finally got the upper hand.

"It's probably his fault I'm feeling so nauseous." Harry grumbled to himself, kneeling beside the lavatory toilet and scowling. "His fowl words making my stomach turn."

One thing was for sure, no matter how bad being sick in your own body was, throwing up while you were in someone else's was far worse.

After a few more spirited attempts by Zabini's body to make Harry puke Zabini's guts out, Harry felt well enough to push away and rest his aching back against the cool stall wall. Harry felt the weak, shaky sensation one always get after ones' body tries to turn itself inside out, and it didn't leave him feeling any better about his sudden sick spell.

He'd never had food poisoning from the food here at Hogwarts, (never known anyone else who had, either, if he thought about it), and normally he got a fever a day or two before his belly would decide to take revenge on him. But he did wonder if perhaps Zabini's body worked differently than his? Maybe Zabini dealt with the sick first, and the fever later.

Harry didn't like that option any better than he liked his own body's way of working through it, but he figured that, either way, a trip down to Madam Pomfrey really wasn't necessary. It was, in all probability, just your average stomach bug, and he would just deal with it like he did every other time he got sick. At least there wasn't any coughing.

"Yet," Harry added under his breath, feeling drained. He put out a hand to grab the toilet lid to help him up, but even moving his arm was causing the world to spin at an alarming rate. He let Zabini's limb fall back to his side, eyelids heavy.

He shouldn't sleep here, on the floor of the first floor boys' restroom, he knew that. But he was suddenly so comfortable, and the stall wall was so cooling against his skin, and it just felt so nice to rest his eyes.

"Maybe I do have a fever," He mumbled, voice slurring slightly as the world turned, and his tummy churned, and his head spun. Everything was just moving so fast and Harry had no chance of stopping it, so he closed his eyes.

It felt like seconds; like he'd merely blinked before he was being so rudely awoken by a wailing Moaning Myrtle. Harry groaned, and she screamed at him for the better part of Harry getting to his feet and cleaning himself up as best he could. When she finally felt upset enough with his lack of response to dive head first through the sinks, shriek unbearably as she went, Harry sighed with relief and looked at the mirror. Zabini's face looked back at him; eyes dull and skin a sickly greenish hue. But despite that, the small nap Harry had been granted had done him a world of good and he was feeling better than he had since the moment he had woken up that morning.

Cross checking the time against Zabini's class schedule to make sure he wasn't late for anything; Harry collected Zabini's things and took off for the school grounds, eager to get some sunshine in hopes that it would wash away the last of the chill still circling in his borrowed bones.


Authors Notes: I do have to apologize. This is my most hated chapter so far, (for whatever reason), and I found that even trying to reread though it annoyed me greatly, so I've handed the final read through over to YT because I just couldn't take it and I was eager to post this for Daniel Radcliffe's birthday! Woo!

(And to start on chapter 9).

I do hope it reads better for you all than it did for me.

Anyways, your reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading, you lovely readers, you. ^^ -KIAD.