NOTES: Well, that took longer to write than I had originally anticipated. Had to rewatch Ranma 1/2 to get a good feel of Akane's voice, had to replace my computer entirely (don't ask), and then I had to figure out Dobby's voice all over again. I hate writing Dobby's speech. :( For those of you who were asking for Harry to interact more with his two best friends - the opening scene is actually one that's been in the works for a long time, but I was never able to figure out where to put it, until now. :) There's a lot of Ron in this chapter, and that's just fine by me.

It had originally been Harry who discovered what happens when a boy tries to enter the girls' dormitory.

Despite this, it was honestly Ron's fault. Ron had realized early on that if he stayed female all day, he was far less likely to get doused with cold water. He took advantage of the fact that he still could use his magic and opposable thumbs to complete tasks that required human dexterity. He was also very grateful that he was still human, as opposed to the human-shaped creatures who really weren't human and had serious problems, consequently (Knotts and Hermione, respectfully).

This was not a sentiment that was agreed by all.

One day, a few weeks after all had settled, more or less, into their curses and routines, Ron was approached by a couple of Gryffindor sixth-year girls – Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Eulalia Rubik – who had finally decided that enough was enough.

"Will you look at yourself?" Eulalia demanded, poking at Ron's breast. Ron wrapped her arms around her chest.

"Do you mind?" she demanded, her ears burning red. "I've never gone around poking at your chest!"

"Not if you wanted me to break your fingers, you wouldn't," Eulalia snapped back. "I've been wearing proper undergarments when I first bloomed."

Alicia stepped between them, her hands raised like white flags. "Hold on, you two. Look," she turned to Ron, "some girls can get away without needing any support, like Katie, here." Katie, who was admittedly as curvy as a particularly straight board, raised her voice in protest. Alicia ignored her. "You, however, have way too much to be going around, just flopping loose in the wind." She gestured, almost as if she were weighing an object apiece in each hand.

Ron's face was now burning the same color as her ears as she looked down at herself. Sure, the buttons were kind of stretched out and the material gaped, but she usually wore her robes over the white button-down shirt, and pretty soon she'd have another awful sweater from Mrs Weasley that would also help disguise, um, things.

"This," Katie butted in coolly, "simply cannot continue. If you're going to be one of us, you've got to become one of us."

Ron thought that was a bit of nonsense that she didn't really like the sound of...

And she felt quite vindicated less than 30 minutes later, when she was dragged away from study hall to the Gryffindor tower. It was the first time she had ever entered the girls' dormitory, and she was disappointed to find it was pretty much just like the boys' dormitory. Fred and George had, surprise surprise, lied once again. There was no chocolate fountain, no separate powder rooms, no flowers growing out of the walls, and no dancing unicorns.

In the sixth year's room, which was decorated with a lot of blue and very little pink, Ron found herself stripped to the waist and standing balanced on top of Katie's trunk. She wasn't sure how she felt about this, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. She was used to being in the nude with the guys when she was her regular guy self, but careful to stay shielded when the curse was activated. It made figuring out which bathroom to use difficult (if she went into the girls' toilet, everyone in there knew she wasn't an actual girl; the guys were just awkward). She had been careful not to reveal too much of this body to anyone though, on account of it not being Ron's body. This body belonged to a living, breathing girl half-way across the world, and it felt disrespectful to put it on display.

"Arms up," Katie said, holding a cloth measuring tape before Ron. Ron eyed it, her arms unmoving. "Oh, come on, Ron. We can't get you properly fitted if we don't know what your measurements are."

Ron reluctantly held her arms up. The measuring tape was cold against her skin as it was tucked beneath her breasts and pulled taught. Ron felt the flushing heat of embarrassment spread across her entire body, her chest and arms burning hot. "Twenty-eight" Katie mumbled to Eulalia, who had put on a pair of reading glasses and stood close by with quill and notebook in hand.

Eulalia's quill scratched against paper. "Even number, so we have to add four... All right, thirty-two."

The measuring tape moved upward. Ron nearly flailed. "Getting a little up-close and personal there, Katie, don't you think?" Ron declared in a loud voice.

"We have to measure across the fullest area of your bust," Katie snapped. "So be quiet and stop moving."

Ron could feel Katie's breath against her skin as she leaned close to squint at the numbers. "Thirty-four." The measuring tape snaked across her skin as Katie withdrew it.

Eulalia finished her notes. "I thought Ron looked like a B-cup. So, now, all we have to do is tell Ginny—"

"My sister put you up to this?"

"Actually, Mrs Weasley did," Alicia said absently as she rooted around in her trunk.

"MUM?"

"Yeah. She originally wanted Ginny to do it, but Ginny said that it bordered on creepy doing it herself, so she asked us to do it for her. Anyway, they also sent pantyhose."

"ARE THEY TRYING TO TURN ME INTO A CROSSDRESSER?"

Eulalia, Katie, and Alicia crossed their arms before themselves and just looked at Ron. Feeling very awkward and quite shy at the thought of wearing the same underwear as his mother or his sister, Ron jumped off of Katie's trunk and yanked her clothes back on.

"Wait," Alicia said. "My bras would fit you, so I'm going to loan you one. And if you aren't going to wear pantyhose, you should really consider shaving. The bright red hair against pale white skin is kinda noticeable."

The thought of wearing the underwear of a fellow teammate seemed a lot more skeevy – and Ron wasn't going to contemplate the idea of a razor coming close to her ankles. "No way, I'm going back to being a bloke right now, so I don't need any bras or panties or hose!" Ron ran tripping and stumbling out of the room and turned left, doing up the buttons of her shirt as she moved. If the guys' bathroom was in this direction in his dorm, then it would hold true for the girls'. She skidded to a stop at the closed door, pounded a fist into it (winced as she saw fractures in the wood appear from the force of her blow), and then opened it via the handle. "Anyone in? I'm coming in!" Ron declared loudly. She ducked inside and immediately dived for the hot water spigget.

Cold water gushed out.

"Gah!" Ron quickly turned the water off, and then clutched at the sink as she heard Alicia, Katie, and Eulalia approach. I just got myself cornered! Visions of being strapped down and dressed as the girls cackled in an evil manner, flashed through Ron's head. She glanced around wildly, and found herself leaping off the ground to the door frame. Her fingers and feet found footholds she wasn't aware of existing, and she managed to pull herself up and out of the line of vision just as the door swung open.

Clinging to the wall above the door, feet somehow finding perch on a stone frame less than an inch wide, Ron held her breath as she saw the girls burst through. "I know Ron came in here," Katie said, looking around with her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, Ron, we're doing this for your sake," Alicia said hotly, a white bra dangling from her left hand and a strip of nude-colored pantyhose slung around her neck.

Eulalia made a spreading motion with her hands. "Fan out. He's probably hiding in one of the stalls. We'll get him into this, one way or another."

Ron held her breath until the girls had spread out beneath her, each heading in different directions. Silently, moving as slowly as she could while still hurrying, Ron released her grip and lowered herself from the door sill.

"Ah hah!" a triumphant voice rang out behind, just as Ron set her feet on the floor.

Without looking behind, Ron immediately sprinted down the hallway. "Help!" she cried.

A distant voice answered. "Ron? Izzat you?"

"Harry! Harry, help! They're trying to kill me!" Ron was sure she heard the voice coming from the staircase leading out of the girls' dorm. She rushed headlong for it.

She heard Katie from behind. "For crying out loud - it's just underwear, Ron!"

There was an awful grating noise that made the stones beneath her feet vibrate, a sliding whoosh, and when Ron hurtled out of the doorway, she realized that a smooth slope was in place of the steps. She slid down them, feet skidding smooth, and secretly marveled in how well she kept her balance. Harry was all askew at the base of the slope, his glasses crooked and his limbs spread out where he lay on the floor. "Run, mate!" Ron cried as she rushed past, ducking low enough to hook an arm beneath Harry and drag him along with her. She somehow didn't manage to lose her stride or speed.

A couple of first years applauded and whistled in admiration.

They just reached the stairs leading to the boys' dorm when the girls exited theirs. Katie had a rug, which they used to slide down the smooth stone. Ron glanced quickly over her shoulder as Harry quickly regained his footing on the steps and followed after.

"Where's your Invisible Cloak?" Ron demanded as they ducked into their room.

"Why don't our stairs turn into a slide when Hermione tries to enter our dorm?" Harry asked, his brow knitted with concern. Ron ignored the question as she threw open Harry's trunk.

"Come on, mate! You gotta hide me before they subject me to more humiliating abuse!"

"Oh, right." Harry reached down and pulled the Invisibility Cloak free, which he draped over Ron's shoulders. Ron, hearing the girls approaching now, glanced quickly around the room, quickly discarding most corners and under the bed as suitable hiding placed. She finally leaped for the window, balancing herself easily on the wide ledge. She wrapped the cloak around herself and carefully leaned around the corner on the outside. She carefully ignored the breathtaking view, the even more breathtaking drop to the ground far, far below, and the cold wind that gusted against her legs. Invisible Cloaks might do wonders against hiding from people, but it wasn't exactly the warmest garment.

"Hello, Harry," Ron heard Katie say as she entered the bedroom. "Would you happen to have seen Ron, recently?"

"Um, no?"

Ron barely suppressed her snort of disdain at Harry's awkward lie.

"So, you weren't, in fact, dragged across the Common room and up the stairs by Ron?"

"Er, well, yeah, I was. But I didn't see Ron do it, really. He was moving kinda fast."

Ron bit down on a fist to stay silent.

"Huh. And I suppose Ron was moving way too fast for you to see where he went after you both came to the room here, right?"

"Well, no. Not really."

It was Alicia who spoke next. "Rumor has it that you've got an Invisibility Cloak. You wouldn't have happened to have loaned it out in the last minute or so, would you?"

"Why would I do that?" There was a shuffling of feet, and then Harry's voice sounded closer than before. "Look, is it really necessary to have all three of you corner me in my own room? No wonder Ron flew off – er, um..."

"He flew off?" Ron heard rushing footsteps, and then Katie was poking her head through the window, far too close for comfort. Ron held her breath and really hoped that the wind wouldn't gust right then and make the Invisibility Cloak brush against her skin. She heard the dull roar of her blood rushing through her ears. "I thought you weren't allowed to go flying out of your bedroom window with a broom."

"Well," Harry's voice was hedgy at best, "desperate times do call for desperate measure."

"Fine, then." Katie drew away from the window. Ron decided to start breathing before she passed out. She didn't think Harry would appreciate if she fell off the ledge and subsequently splattered herself all over inside Harry's cloak. "Well, if you see Ron, please give him these. His mum wants him to be more properly attired if he's going to hang out as a girl."

"Er, right. Sure. Thanks."

Ron listened to Katie, Eulalia, and Angelina leave. She waited several long moments before Harry slowly poked his head out the window and said, "I think the coast is clear."

Fingers scrambling against the crevices in the stone wall, Ron carefully maneuvered back around the corner and into the bedroom. She let the folds of the Cloak fall away from her head as she sank down to the floor, the strength in her legs finally giving out as adrenaline crashed. Harry sat down beside her. "Thanks, mate," Ron said with a nod of gratitude. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you – well, I'd probably die."

Harry was still frowning. "You know, I don't think it's a fair deal that the girls get to invade our dorms, but we can't get into theirs. What if the guys have to help a cursed girl? If we just relied on you, you'd have to dress in those underthings before going off to help, and we don't have time for that."

Ron was more in favor of having stairs that turned into slides if girls tried to enter their dorm, but then realized this wouldn't work to her favor if she happened to be cursed at the time. "Right," Ron said, too tired to think or care anymore.

oOoOoOo

Ron then later brought his observations up in a prefect meeting a few days later, regarding how the girls' dorm stairs prevented people who were physically not girls from entering.

"Of course they do," Hermione said, "the Four Founders felt that boys were more untrustworthy than girls. You'd have known that too if you actually read Hogwarts History."

"Not in our dorm," Ernie said with a puzzled frown.

"Like it's a surprise that Hufflepuff boys are chumps?" Draco asked with disdain. Then he winced when the Head Boy, a Hufflepuff named Edwin Middleton, elbowed him in the side.

This week's staff supervisor for the Prefect meeting, Professor Binns, merely snuffed in his nap and muttered, "Biscuit battle of 1655..." before resuming his soft snoring.

"I just think," Ron continued, raising his voice after everyone paused to consider biscuits, and then reached for their tearcups, "that if I or another bloke had to help a cursed girl, we'd be kind of limited thanks to the slide."

"You wouldn't," Draco said, in an equally loud voice. Then he winced when he was elbowed by Cho Chang.

"I agree with Ron," Cho said. "My cursed form is male, so I can't get up the stairs. I have to fly – which is a real pain in the arse, literally, with my tailfeathers – or be carried up. This is an antiquated system that is hindering our cursed forms. I can either attempt flying up the stairs, or I can change in the boys' bathroom, where I don't have any clothes. I spoke to Flitwick, and he said he was going to look into altering the charms to instead set off an auditory alarm in place of the current tactile alarm."

Rohit Naveen, a Seventh-year Slytherin prefect whose cursed form was a porcupine, asked, "Is there a possibility of temporarily suspending the alarm? Theodore has to help Suzette with her cursed form, and I'd rather he start doing it in her dorm rather than ours."

"I can also discuss that with Flitwick the next time we see him."

Hermione shifted restlessly in her seat; Ron had a feeling that she was upset that people were so easily disregarding the tradition of Hogwarts's alarm system, but decided he didn't care.

If the boys didn't get to have slides to keep out evil Gryffindors bent on deciding what you should wear and when, then girls shouldn't either.

oOoOoOo

Following Snape's rather dire proclamation of collecting samples once more, he and McGonagall left. For what, Harry didn't want to imagine. He was aware that there were still a few students in the hospital wing – and he didn't want to think about the hospital wing, because then it made him think of the samples, and when he thought of the samples, he could feel a black cloud of misery forming over his head...

He felt Suzette nudge his back once more as a reminder that she required assistance. She was a nice girl, to distract him from his dangerous thoughts. "Let me tell Ron what's up, first. Don't want to trip the alarm." He walked over to Ron, who was slouched in one of the squishy chairs, his long limbs all askew and his face scrunched up in displeasure. He was also nursing a finger that was wrapped in a blood-spotted napkin.

"Hey – Ron? We need to help correct Suzette. Theo and I can splash her with the hot water if we can get her to the girls' bathroom, but we need the alarm suspended."

Ron didn't move from his slouch. "Harry, wouldn't it be just a lot less work for you and Knott to tell Hermione that Suzette needs help? 'Cause Hermione will heat the water, transfigure some random lint into a starched uniform that would fit Suzette, and even arrange a study group in the History of Magic just for her."

"Is that so?" asked a snide voice above Ron's head. Ron froze, and Harry scooted out of range. Hermione leaned over the back of the chair, until the tips of her bushy hair dangled in front of Ron's face. "Well, then, Ronald, maybe if you had something to do, you might be more inclined to being responsible, instead of molesting kittens and picking on geese!"

"You don't pick on geese!" Ron corrected with a sulky look. "Geese pick on you!"

Hermione's voice dropped into a whisper. "Act like the prefect you're expected to be." And then she emptied the cup of cold water on top of Ron. "There, that'll keep the alarm from going off," Hermione added in a loud voice, stepping away to help someone else.

Harry watched as Ron clenched and unclenched her fists for a few moments before springing to her feet. "...so uncute," Ron muttered as she stormed past Harry and up the steps. She stepped over Theodore, who was still seated in place, and extended her arms out. Past experiences in the DA had given everyone involved the first-hand experience of seeing Suzette disappear completely, at the moment she was hit with cold water, from the gaze of those who had never seen death. The students had initially thought that thestrals were just some form of invisible monster, until Hermione – after lecturing people on not paying attention to their Care of the Magical Creatures class – explained what a thestral was.

Harry only saw the gruesomeness that was the thestral's form; Ron touched it. Her questing hands found Suzette's neck, and Harry wondered if she felt as gruesome as she looked.

Ron first waved her wand, jabbing it here and there, and muttered some other things too soft for Harry to hear. When completed, Ron looked over her shoulder and said, "There, that will allow entry of any guy for the next five minutes. Step fast, then." She turned back to Suzette and, applying gentle pressure with her hands, carefully forced Suzette to back down the narrow corridor. Suzette backed up slowly, apprehensively, her ears laid flat. She stumbled twice but caught her balance, until she was able to step backwards into an open room enough to turn around. Once space in front of her had opened, Ron squeezed past, and Suzette followed.

Harry felt red color burn his cheeks, feeling like a voyeur as he followed his friends down the long hallway to the girls' bathroom. He tried not to look at any of the doors that they passed, even the ones that were slightly ajar.

When Ron reached the doubledoors on the other end, she knocked loudly, then poked her head through. "Anyone in?" she hollered. Some affirmatives were given. "Make it fast. I have a thestral here to switch, and the only people who can see her are the two blokes accompanying me." There was a flurry of movement and voices raised in protest. Ron leaned back against the doors, leaving them slightly open, and folded her arms across the chest. "Hey, look, I'm just saying it's not fair to Suzette that she has to squeeze all the way across the Commons and through the boys' dorm, when it was just easier to bring the boys here. I'm giving you fair warning, anyway." Ron was silent for a moment, her mouth pulling into a frown, before she kicked at the ground and added, "Unlike Hermione."

Harry watched as Suzette snuffed and snorted all over Ron. Ron looked appalled.

"Did...did I just get thestral spit in my hair?" Ron shook her finger at the general direction of Suzette. "Look, I don't need thestral or Slytherin spit in my hair! I've got Hermione in it already, and that's more than enough ickiness for me."

Suzette licked him.

Before Ron could say anything about that particular insult, two Second year Slytherins and a Third year Gryffindor exited the bathroom. They walked where Ron gestured so they wouldn't bump into Suzette, and they cast Theodore dirty looks and Harry admiring/surprised looks. And then Theodore gave Harry a shifty-eyed, sideways look of disgust.

Harry didn't think that was very fair.

Ron did a quick sweep of the bathroom before returning, nodding his head for the all-clear. Theodore jammed his hands into his pocket and followed after Suzette as Ron and Harry held open the doors for Suzette's passage.

"You don't need my help," Harry said, leaning back against the jamb.

Theodore's voice was muffled. "Never do really, except Dobby is the only one who answers your call, oh mighty Harry Potter sir."

Harry blinked at that. "Oh, yeah." He clapped his hands twice and called for Dobby. After a moment, there was a puff of magic, and Dobby, covered from head to toe with black curtains, stared red-eyed from between layers. He was still wearing his tall stack of knit hats. "Er…"

"Harry Potter sir is calling for Dobby!" Dobby sniffled, and a purple paisley handkerchief was raised to his nose. It fluttered in the air as Dobby blew into it. "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, who is so kind and so thoughtful and-"

"Er, right. Suzette needs her clothes and wand. Dry clothes," Harry stressed.

Dobby's reddened eyes glimmered. "The clothes weren't dried when they were brought in? They are needing to be washed then." Dobby raised a finger to the proximity of his mouth as he contemplated this. Then, with a couple snaps of his fingers and a strange little kick of his heels, several orange and pink-striped terrycloth bathtowels suddenly popped into existence.

"Somehow," Ron began, with just a small lilt of irony in her voice, "I don't think that's what Harry meant."

Dobby's fingers twirled in the air, and the towels elevated. They twisted and joined and shrank and stretched this way and that until they finally took the form of a long terrycloth dress with short sleeves. An orange and pink-striped dress. "There you are, Harry Potter sir! Just for you!"

Harry tentatively reached out and gripped the dress. It fell limply from the air at his touch and pooled over his hand. "Er, thanks."

"It will be doing good for Miss Suzette Jordan, yes?"

"Yeah. I think it'll do good."

Dobby did another little skippy hop with a click of his heels. "Then Dobby will be going to help the other house elves in bringing back things from the dungeons."

"Make sure they're dry first," Harry said just as Dobby disappeared. "Think he heard me?" he asked Ron, who shrugged in answer. Harry knocked on the bathroom door and cracked it open. "Hey, I've got something for Suzette to wear." He stuck the towel-dress through the doors and held it aloft for a moment before the weight of it disappeared from his hand.

Suzette's voice was bland, sarcasm dropping from each vowel as she spoke. "Really, Potter, you shouldn't have."

"Are we done here?" Theodore asked. And then he left, before anyone answered his question.

With Suzette taken care of, Harry and Ron also left. "I really think that this should be Hermione's responsibility," Ron muttered. "Or some of the other girls."

"Well, it's not like most of them know what a thestral is, Ron," Harry said.

"If they don't know after all this time with Suzette being around, they never will. Bunch of ignorant brats," Ron said with far too much cynicism.

After Harry fetched something to eat from the breakfast table that thankfully didn't taste like feet, Hermione pulled him aside to a corner outside of the Gryffindor common room. They waited until the portrait was shut behind them and no one had followed after before Hermione spoke. "While I am all for interHouse unity, I'm not too sure it's such a good idea to have to share the Houses."

Harry thought once more of all the people he had to share his room with, and shuddered again at the realization that Draco was sleeping two beds away. "I hate to say that Snape is right, but why didn't Dumbledore put the others into empty towers?"

"Oh, I suppose it's to help with more of the unity, to show how much better it is for students to be at Hogwarts, getting along so well, to prevent someone like Fudge or Umbridge from removing us."

Harry couldn't help but think that getting along was one thing, but living together was far worse. "It's not going to be so good if it gets to the point where we're back to hating and fighting each other."

"Which is why I brought you out here to talk, Harry." Hermione reached out and poked him in the shoulder. "It's not going to kill you to share a room with Draco Malfoy." Hermione rolled her eyes at the dry look Harry gave her. "I mean it, Harry. Just don't let him get to you, because the best that Draco can do is instigate you into fighting."

"But what about the worst that he can do? He's done a lot over the years, Hermione!"

"Dump a bucket of water on him."

"Hermione. I sleep with him."

Hermione's face turned bright red as her mouth dropped open.

"Wait – I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I sleep in the same room as him now!"

Hermione coughed. "Well…the rivalry between you two does kind of get…well, you know."

Unfortunately, Harry didn't know, although he had the worst feeling that someone like Blaise would probably be soon rectifying that shortcoming. "Get what?"

Hermione was quiet for a long moment. Too quiet. Then, in a very obvious attempt to divert Harry away from this subject, Hermione said, "So, do you think that Hagrid will still have classes tomorrow? I heard he had something special that he wanted us to see out in the Forbidden Forest and he had gotten permission from Dumbledore to take us on a fieldtrip through the woods."

Harry hoped that Hagrid's idea of a fieldtrip wasn't the same sort of idea he had for introducing unsuspecting people to the so-called cute, loveable creatures he enjoyed. Not that a lot of teaching took place, unless you counted how a lot of learning took place in the form of ducking for your life, and how to field dress wounds. "Yeah, but you didn't bring me here to discuss Hagrid, did you? You said that you wanted to discuss Draco."

Hermione's hair seemed to crackle a bit at the bushy ends as she whipped around on her heels, her face turning red. "Oh, I think I hear Lavender calling my name – gotta go!"

Harry was positive he hadn't heard any name calling. But since Hermione wasn't clearly prepared for any more explanations or discussions, he decided to go hang out with a sensible Gryffindor – someone who wasn't going to make the headache he could already feel forming any worse. He wasn't sure who qualified at this point – probably Dean and Seamus – but he was sure he'd find someone if he looked hard enough. He bypassed red-belly Collin, who was sliding along the floor and humming under his breath "God Save the Queen", and decided to join the company of Seamus and Neville, who were playing a game of Exploding Snapdragon.

"Deal you in?" Seamus asked, without looking at Harry.

"Nah. I'm just here for the company. Nice, sensible, painless, uncomplicated, unimaginative company."

Harry then wondered why Neville looked like someone had kicked him, and why Seamus gave him the stink-eye over his handful of cards.

Letters to Nerima. 2.

When Akane looked at the picture that this Ron fellow sent her, she was startled to see that it did move like a movie. The characters acted within their limited roles, with a dark gray stone wall serving as a backdrop, but magically seemed to respond to stimuli outside of the picture. She watched as a scrawny-looking teen with messy black hair and eyeglasses spilled cold water over his companion on cue. His companion was ordinarily a taller, gawky-looking guy with bright red hair and pasty skin covered with freckles. She watched in astonishment as this stranger became her. She watched as short red hair shifted into her neatly trimmed black hair; as the height melted into something more equal to his companion; as the clothes slumped down and shifted sideways. Akane was secretly pleased to see that her chest wasn't as flat as Ranma always complained it was.

(And what would Ranma know? she asked herself. Well, besides the obvious, in that Ranma was more endowed in that area with a curse than she was with nature itself.) It was even more bizarre to see a stranger lurking beneath her own skin. It was in the way that Ron-as-Akane moved, the uncharacteristic expressions and scowls and smiles that simply didn't hint towards the kind of chaos and adventure that Akane's life had become mired in.

But chaos and adventure didn't seem like anything they would be lacking, Akane was sure of that, as she studied the body language of the two strangers.

"Can you change back to yourself?" Akane asked, tapping the picture. She lay prone on her bed, propped up on her elbows, with the picture perched upright against her pillow. Ron-as-Akane tilted her head to the side, regarding the words with a peculiar frown. She said something to her companion, whom Akane mentally dubbed Glasses Boy. Glasses Boy retreated outside of the picture's range, and then returned, carrying a new water-filled vessel. The water was hot, and she watched as the stranger became himself.

It was a very alien feeling, knowing that this stranger in another country was wearing her body. She wondered if he tasted things the way she did, if he heard and saw things just as she did. She tried to imagine herself-as-Ron, looking out at a world from behind brown eyes, through a curtain of red hair.

It made her head ache to imagine anything like that, almost as if her mind tried to split into two.

Akane flipped the picture around so she was staring at the back of it. There was English lettering across the back, and she squinted for a long moment, carefully sorting out sounds and meaning in her head. "My best mate, Harry, helping me change."

Glasses Boy sounded better, Akane thought.

She flipped the picture around so she could no longer watch the inhabitants. She stared at the blank piece of paper that lay, curling slightly, at her elbow. Perched atop of her bed frame and snoring softly, was the owl, Pigwideon. Akane sat upright and pulled the paper close. She tucked a magazine beneath the paper to serve as a writing surface, and nibbled on the end of her pen in thought.

Akane didn't really know where to begin. She thought it was egotistical to discuss herself to a complete stranger, but she also didn't want to come across as a foolish nitwit, either. She also still felt uncomfortable revealing herself to a stranger – especially someone located on the other side of the world. She initially thought of asking her family what they thought about her, and then realized that wasn't really her, either. Because no matter how you thought a person was, only that person knew the truth.

After a few more moments of consideration, Akane finally put pen to paper.

To Ron: As you can imagine, your letter was met with surprise and suspicion. I've seen and done a lot of strange things in my life, but I think that receiving word from someone who is cursed to become me probably tops that list of strange things. At least for this week.

I wouldn't think that being me is a curse. The problems I've had with being myself is usually due to someone else. I'm sure you can agree that there are worse creatures to become when splashed with cold water. I don't know if you inherited just the strength of my body, or some of my skills, so I shall address such curiosity. I have lived and trained in my father's dojo of the School of Anything Goes Martial Arts all my life. As the name suggests, this martial arts form consists of anything; it teaches how any site can be a battle site; how any object can be made into a weapon; how any skill can be used for fighting. I've always tried to keep my body in a good working condition, and feel that I am a strong fighter.

I still live at the dojo, along with my two older sisters and my father, my fiancé (who, if I ever chose to write anything about him, would require several reams of paper) and his father, and my father's master. I have a pet pig occasionally. (P-chan, unfortunately, is often given to wandering off and being lost for many days on end. Eventually he finds his way back to me.) My mother died when I was a young girl.

My life is hectic; I'm afraid it would be too difficult and lengthy to elaborate. Suffice to say I try to take each day at a time, although sometimes I get impatient with it all. I like to read, hang out with friends, stay out of trouble, and enjoy movies and ice-cream.

However, I don't think it's fair that I'm the only person revealing information. You already have my body – why should I give you my memories? I've never seen a picture like yours before. I also don't know why the lettering on the paper changed from English to Japanese. It's paper – not a computer or other electronic! Is it magic? If you can explain it to me, I'll tell you a little more about my life next time.

Cordially, Tendo Akane

Akane sighed her name with a flourish. She stared the letter, rereading it, and then decided it was good enough. She folded the paper into tight little squares and pinned it closed with a paperclip and a rubberband. "Hey, you." Akane reached over and poked Pigwideon. It fell off her bed frame with a startled hoot, bounced off the wall, and barely uprighted itself in the air before hitting the floor. It hooted and zipped around the room, completely unable to hold still now that it was awake.

"Take this to your Ron fellow." Pigwideon landed on her pillow and extended a leg. Akane rifled through her writing box before she found a piece of twine, which she used to secure the letter to Pigwideon's scrawny leg. "Good luck," she told the owl, before it hooted its goodbye and zipped out her open window.