Supposed to be written for Harry Potter Last Author Standing challenge for the prompt: character A turns into character B.

However, I ended up not being able to get my act together with this before it was due, so I used a skipped. I did like the idea though and ended up finishing it after the fact.

Warnings: hints of canon child abuse

Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here] Harry Potter doesn't belong to me


Before Hogwarts, before he found out he was a wizard, Harry had wondered what it would be like to be someone else. Had wondered what it would be like if he were Dudley and could eat all he wanted or have every little thing that caught his eye or interest. Had wondered what it'd be like to not have to sleep under the cupboard under the stairs or wear his cousin's hand-me-downs or eat scraps from the table.

He knew it would never happen, not while he lived with the Dursleys, but he couldn't help but dream.


It wasn't until his fifth year that Harry once again wondered what it'd be like if he were someone else. A wizard without the expectations placed on him by one side and the hatred placed on him by the other. Without rumors of insanity or Voldemort trying to get inside his head. What would it be like if he were Ron? Or Malfoy? Or even an unobtrusive Hufflepuff, one whom no one expected to fight for them and save them from a wizard with decades of more experience.

He tamped down the wistful daydreams and went through the motions of his life, doing what was expected of him.

After the war, witches and wizards throughout the Wizarding world wanted to be him - but not really. Not who he really was. They wanted the legend, the hero who survived the Killing Curse for a second time and who defeated Voldemort with a schoolboy's charm.

No wanted to be the boy who grew up in the cupboard under the stairs, who lived with Muggle relatives who hated his very existence.


Polyjuice potion tasted awful. The first two times he had tasted it, he'd not thought much of it. He'd been too young to worry about nailing the personality of Goyle the first time he used the potion and during the second time, he'd been more concerned about finding Umbridge and the horcrux than anything else. This, his third time was different.

The taste still made him gag. He grimaced as the potion forced his bones and muscles to shift, knowing he'd have to go through all of this again when it finally wore off. Mechanically, he drew on the clothes specifically made for this little venture. Their target - the man he had become - would never be seen anywhere without the finest of clothes. And he had to admit that the seamstress contracted to the Aurors had done a good job in simulating the style of the target, even if he himself felt uncomfortable.

He found it amazing that polyjuice could change one's outward appearance but little else. He was still Harry Potter, still had the same thoughts and fears and loves and hates as he did when he wore his own face and had his own body.

The potion could change you for a little while, but it didn't give you anything more than a fantasy.