Author's Notes: This seems to descend further and further into idiocy, so I feel a need to apologise. This is written purely to keep me from being bored and to amuse myself. I take no responsibility for out-of-character-ness. If you want to read something good, I suggest you try Trials and Tribulations (plug, plug!) Oh, and another thing. This is, and will continue to be, Hermione/Draco and Ron/Lavendar. Ron and Hermione will not be getting together!
Chapter Three – A Date with a Dragon
Severus Snape had always been an active person. Contrary to popular belief, he had not spent his adolescence in a dark dreary corner with his over-sized nose in a book. On the contrary, he had been an active young man. He was an academic, yes, but he was also Keeper on the Slytherin Quidditch team and had chosen subjects that fit in with his energy levels. He had loved Potions because there were always heavy cauldrons to move around and scrub. All right, it wasn't a daily marathon, but it kept him occupied.
The reason for this need to burn energy had always been the same. Severus Snape was a sufferer of insomnia. Activity during the day was always a futile attempt at exhausting himself sufficiently for sleep. This, however, did not often work. His mind was too active whenever he tried to sleep, and would not calm down or relax. Whenever the Potions Master had this problem he found that a brisk walk around the school would often bore his mind into submission.
It was on such a night that the Head of Slytherin found himself pacing through the labyrinth-like corridors and passages of the dungeons. And on it was on this particular walk that said Head of Slytherin came across something interesting.
"Mr Malfoy," Snape said, savouring the words, as he was not allowed to reprimand this particular brat nearly as often as he would like. "I trust you have an explanation for being caught out of the Slytherin common room?"
Draco had been striding purposefully towards the Potions rooms. He had frozen quite comically in mid-stride, and now turned slowly to face his head of house. He was dressed all in black, and his pale hair contrasted drastically. He dug his hands into his pockets and made direct eye contact with the taller man. "Of course, sir," he said. "I'm making a Confucious potion as part of my coursework presentation. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that it needs stirring every six hours. I wanted to check it now, so I'd have a full six hours sleep to look forward to."
"I see. So why did you not ask me for a pass?" Snape asked, folding his arms in front of him.
Draco's eyes fell to the floor. "I wasn't actually meant to check it. My partner was, but Granger kept moaning that she'd have to walk all the way from Gryffindor tower. I gave in and said I'd check it."
Snape recalled that he had shooed away a very pestering Miss Granger yesterday and nodded in acknowledgement. "How very chivalrous of you, Mr Malfoy. I would suggest, however, that in future you get Miss Granger to do her own dirty work. I do not wish to catch you on a night time wander again," he smirked and raised an eyebrow. "People might talk."
Draco nodded, still solemn and quite moody at being caught. Snape nodded once more and swept past Draco, down the passage.
The blonde watched him leave, waiting. As soon as his teacher was out of sight, Draco dug his hands in the pockets of his Calvin Klein hoodie and trudged around one corner, then another, before pushing open the potions room door.
His pale blue eyes scanned the room, looking for the give-away shimmers of an invisibility cloak. "Hermione?" He whispered. "It's me. Come out."
He noticed a movement to his right and span, watching as the familiar figure appeared, literally, as if from nowhere. Her hair was down and her jeans and sweater were strangely casual. He frowned slightly. "Hello there."
Hermione's mouth twisted into an awkward smile. "Um…hi."
Draco smiled back, genuinely, and walked towards her. He slipped his arms round her waist and kissed her forehead gently. Her body stiffened visibly, and he frowned again. He pulled back slightly, resting his hands on her hips, and studied her face. Something in her eyes was grating. "Are you still angry with me?"
She had a strangely relieved look in her eyes. "Yes! Yes, I-I am!" She was trying to look angry and relieved at the same time. This couldn't be a good thing. "And I don't know why I'm even here, I'm so angry with you."
Draco took a step back. "I don't understand what I did that was that bad," Draco ran a hand through his hair, pushing the longer strands back from his eyes. "Maybe I was a bit too…pushy, but I honestly thought we were on the same wave length."
Now her face was definitely angry. "Pushy? You were pushy with Her – with me?"
"I'm sorry. I really did think…" he sighed. "OK, maybe I didn't think. But I am sorry, and it won't happen again." He smiled and stepped forward, taking her smaller hands in his. "Forgive me?" Draco smiled charmingly, and leaned forward for a kiss.
All he met was air, as Hermione pulled away from him as though she had been burned. "I…I can't…" She picked up the invisibility cloak and bolted from the room.
Draco sighed again and glared at the door. He shook his head, brushing his hair back from his eyes again, and rubbed his temples. He walked through to the lab in search of his potion. "When in doubt, stir," he told himself.
***
When Ron got back up to the headgirl's quarters his head was whirling. This was too much. It was all too much. Tomorrow he would have a serious talk with Hermione, and find a way to get out of this. They would go to the headmaster and beg to be allowed to tell at least some people.
He looked at himself – or should that be, 'herself'? – in the mirror. Hermione's body's hair was all big and frizzy, like it had been when he had first met her. There were large dark circles under her eyes. The face in the mirror frowned. Why had he not noticed that before? He pulled the large sweater over his head and dropped it on the floor, continuing to observe his new body. He turned to look at himself in profile, and raised his eyebrows. No wonder Draco Malfoy had been sniffing around. Hermione flourished into quite a voluptuous young woman. He frowned. Something else he hadn't noticed.
Ron moved away from the mirror and picked up the nightgown folded on the end of the bed. He raised a sceptical eyebrow at it. "Well, Ronny old boy. It's now or never." He shut his eyes tight and pulled the shirt over his head. He did the same with his bra, not yet wishing to grapple with hooks and catches.
He opened one eye a crack to find the nightie, but stopped in mid-reach. He looked down at the two mounds of flesh in front of him, tipped with rose bud nipples. He watched as they hardened in the cool air, and felt a tingle run through his body. The hand that had been reaching for the nightgown changed direction, and gradually it moved towards his breasts.
Before they made contact, Ron stopped and blinked. "Eurgh!" He made a face and grabbed the nightie, dragging it over his head. "Merlin, you pervert! You were just about to feel up your best friend!" Ron shivered, disgusted with himself. "Nox," he said, before unbuttoning the flies on his jeans and pushing them down his hips. He had noticed earlier in the day, with some surprise, that Hermione went 'commando'. And he thought it was just boys that did that!
Dragging back the covers, he fell into bed and snuggled down. He carefully buried one hand under the pillow, and had the other as far away from his body as possible. He fell asleep repeating a mental mantra: 'I will not violate my friend, I will not violate my friend…'
***
Draco slipped silently into the seventh year boy's dormitory. He was still frowning and trying to think what on earth had been wrong with Hermione. She had never been angry with him for more than a day – and especially not when he sank low enough to apologise. He pulled off his T-shirt and started to undo his flies.
There was something in her eyes – something not right.
The jeans slid down his legs and he kicked them off. He looked down at himself and made a face at the silver chain he was wearing. It was made of a series of tiny silver snakes, which interlocked. The only thing was that every so often one of them would have a wiggle, and it was very uncomfortable. His father had bought it for him, and of course it was a designer make. The problem was, it just wasn't him.
He blinked, and paused. Wasn't him.
It wasn't her!
He quickly grabbed his wand out of the jeans he had carelessly left on the floor. "Lumos!" He whispered. The wand emitted a dull glow from its tip. Draco used this to search through the books stacked on his bedside table. He was sure he'd noticed something in 'Be Yourself – A Guide to Body-Swaps' about grating souls. He found the book and took it with him as he scrambled under the bedclothes and pulled the curtains closed around the bed, so he could turn up the wand enough to read.
He opened the book to the relevant chapter and, after a few minutes' search, he found what he had been looking for.
'When a person is forced into a body that is not theirs, it creates problems with the spirit. A spirit, or soul, is designed to fit a particular body. When a spirit is forced into the wrong body, it can create what is termed 'grating'. This is because the spirit is often forced into a shape it is not made to fit, and so it 'grates' on the body. Tell-tail signs of this can often be seen in the eyes, as these are the windows to the soul.'
Draco shut the book with a snap and placed it back on his bedside table. He shimmied down in the bed and turned onto his side, all the time making a mental plan. Tomorrow he would get to Hermione, or whatever currently inhabited her body, and find out what in Merlin's name was going on.
***
AN: If you were entertained by my little story, please
review…NOW!
