"Yes," said Draco, "I'm inclined to go with you on that." Then he said, "Is this class over yet?"

"Quiet, Draco!" said the professor, "Twenty points from Slytherin!"

"I was only asking a simple question."

"You should have raised your hand. Take Mr. Longbottom, for example. Do you ever see him, not raising his hand?"

"It's true," said Neville, "I always raise my hand."

"That's because you're a wanker," said Draco.

"Are you feeling all right?" asked Harry, "That comment was distinctly below par."

"You're right," Draco looked astonished, "Perhaps I should go see Madame Pomphrey."

"Yes, come on, then." Harry helped Draco up and walked him out of the room.

When they reached Madame Pomphrey's…area Harry said, "Madame Pomphrey, Madame Pomphrey, I think Draco's ill!"

"What are the symptoms?" she asked.

"Well, Neville said, 'I always raise my hand,' and then Draco said, 'That's because you're a wanker.'"

"Oh dear!" she gasped, "This is serious."

They both looked at Draco, who was becoming rather pale. "Here, drink this," she said to him.

"I don't know, it looks a bit dodgy," Draco frowned, looking at the strange white broth with bits of something brown floating in it.

"Nonsense," said the motherly witch, "It'll clear up whatever trouble you're having."

He looked at Harry pleadingly.

"Don't look at me," said Harry, "You've got to drink it. Unless, of course, you'd rather resort to calling people who annoy you 'wankers' all your life."

"You're right," Draco shuddered. He clenched his eyes shut, took a deep breath and downed the potion. "Glachck!" he exclaimed, throwing the vial across the room, "That was the worst thing I've ever tasted…and I've tried your aunt's cooking, Harry."

Harry smiled, seeing the old Draco begin to return (and by old, it means from about a half an hour ago).

"Now," said Madame Pomphrey, "I want you to stay in bed until tomorrow morning and you'll be back to normal by lunch time tomorrow."

"Lunch time tomorrow?" Draco cried, "What if Neville should happen to walk by, or Ron…or what if Harry's cousin pops by for a visit? Dear God, what will I do?"

Harry grinned, "I don't think there's any chance of Dudley 'popping by' but I'll make sure Neville and Ron stay away until you're better."

Draco looked momentarily relieved but the look soon vanished and was replaced by one of mild fear, "What about Colin and Crabbe?"

"I'll protect you from them as well."

"Excellent."

When the got to their room Draco quickly got into bed, "Tuck me in, Harry?"

"I don't see why your condition should have anything to go with your abilities to get into bed properly."

"Don't argue with me, I'm not up to it."

"Fine." Harry tucked Draco in and then walked to a chair by a desk and sat down and began to work on his homework.

After about five minutes Draco said, "Don't you need to be in class?"

"Meh," said Harry and went back to his homework.

Draco, not really caring whether Harry missed class or not, went to sleep.

The next morning he became vaguely aware of something pushing on his shoulder, shaking him violently.

"Draco, wake up!" said Harry irritably.

"You don't need to be so violent."

"Well, you sleep like a bloody log! I've been trying to wake you for the past fifteen minutes."

"It must be the potion, I'm normally a rather light sleeper."

"Whatever, I don't care. We've got to get to class."

"All right, all right. Give me a minute."

Ten minutes later, Harry and Draco arrived in Potions.

"This is absurd," said Draco, "When exactly is this class supposed to take place? It seems like we're always here, no matter what the time of day. We didn't even have breakfast this morning."

"Find your seat," said Snape.

"That all you've got?" asked Harry.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor."

"Harry, really," Hermione gasped.

Harry and Draco sat down. Class went on for what seemed like nine hours and Draco paid very little attention. In fact, all he really heard was, "Blah, blah, blah…classity class class…potions…Neville, stop balancing the toad on your head…no, I haven't got a lemur…" and so on. 'Wait a minute!' he thought, '"I haven't got a lemur?" What on earth is Snape talking about? That man is a loon!' He was about to ask about the strange comment but was unable to because at that moment class ended. He began to walk to the door when he saw Neville approaching him cautiously.

"Umm…Draco," said the ridiculously pathetic boy, "I was wondering if you had any potions that might counteract a…swelling that I seem to have developed."

"Oh dear God, Longbottom, if I have to hear anything more about your problem I shall be forced to stab myself in the heart, and I'm taking you with me."

"Hey, Draco," said Harry cheerfully, "You're making a fast recovery."

"Just get this abomination away from me."

Harry chuckled, "Neville, perhaps you should leave Draco alone for awhile, he's not in a very good mood."

"Is he ever?" Neville muttered as he walked away.

"You know," said Draco, "When I first met Neville, I almost felt sorry for him, what with his name being Neville Longbottom and all but then I realized how well he fits the name and all of my pity vanished. I became rather jaded, in fact."

"Maybe he just sort of grew into the name."

"That's a possibility I don't care to think about."

"All right, is it time for lunch?"

"I don't think so. We've only just finished one class."

"I know but it's so hard to tell sometimes."

"Yeah. Hey, why don't we go snog in the lavatory?"

"What about class?"

"To quote one Harold James Potter, 'Meh,'"

"Ok."

And off they went.

About an hour later a small first year by the name of Twinkie was wandering the halls and suddenly had the desire to wash his hands. He walked into the nearest lavatory and made his way to the sink. As he was washing his hands he heard some strange noises coming from the corner. He went to investigate. This was not at all difficult because all he had to do was turn around.

After he had turned around he was shocked to find his idol, Harry Potter rather tangled up with the despicable, Draco Malfoy. "What are you doing?" he asked in his cute first year voice.

"What does it look like?" asked Draco.

Twinkie burst into tears and said, "I want my mummy. I want my teddy bear, Wandle! I want a dwink of water!"

"There, there little boy," said Harry, "What's your name? If you tell me, I can help you find Randle."

"I'm Twinkie."

"You're a first year?" asked Draco.

"Yes," said Twinkie, sucking his thumb.

"You seem a bit young."

"All the first years seem young," said Harry.

"Yeah, I guess," Draco shrugged.

"Well, I'm going to help Twinkie find his bear…"

"Wandle," Twinkie interjected.

"Yes, Randle. Do you want to come along."

"No. I'd rather be in class."

"All right," Harry and Twinkie walked off to find "Wandle."

Draco decided to take a stroll, because why go to class when there are so many halls just begging to be strolled through?

He had been walking for a good eight minutes when he literally ran into Neville. Unfortunately, Neville was carrying a flask of some pink, sparkly potion and all of it landed on Draco. "You prat!" Draco exclaimed, "Now I'm all sparkly."

Neville had a look of unaccountable horror on his face and he quickly dashed away.

'That was odd,' thought Draco as he went to his room to clean up.

Fifteen minutes later Harry returned to his room to find a strange, blonde girl, who had an uncanny resemblance to Draco, standing in front of the mirror, looking like she was about to cry at any moment.

"Hello," said Harry, "Who are you?"

"Let's just say," began the girl, "I should have killed Longbottom years ago."

"Draco? Dear God…it can't be," Harry was feeling faint.

"Oh…yes, it's me. Damn that stupid, stupid boy with his ridiculous toad and his moronic ineptitude when dealing with potions!"

Much to Draco's dismay, Harry began a fit of uncontrollable laughter. After about five minutes he – or rather, she – said, "Are you quite finished?"

Harry tried to speak but found that he couldn't. Finally, after a few more minutes, he managed to say, "You stay here, I'll look for an antidote."

"What? Do you honestly think I'm going to go mincing about the halls in this condition?"

"No," Harry said, his mouth twitching, "I'll be back with a cure."

"You'd damn well better be," said Draco, as Harry dashed for the door, trying to control his giggling. 'Oh, well,' he – or once again, she – thought when Harry was gone, 'I suppose I'll have to amuse my self in the meantime by trying on dresses.'

Meanwhile, Harry was finding himself in a rather awkward position.

"Why, exactly do you need a potion for that, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape.

"Well…umm…someone has sort of turned himself into a girl by mistake and I'm just trying to help."

"Oh really? And who might this person be?"

"I can't tell you. I've been sworn to secrecy."

"Very well," Snape sighed, losing interest, "Here you go."

"Thanks," Harry said before rushing out of the room.

When Harry returned to his room he was surprised to find Draco wearing a dress and gazing at herself admiringly in one of the many full-length mirrors that adorned her side of the room. (Draco had once explained that it's necessary to see one's self from every possible angle to ensure perfection).

"Where did you get that dress?" Harry was hoping that Draco didn't have a secret collection of women's clothing.

"I borrowed it from Pansy."

"Hmm, well I got the antidote."

"Fantastic, just set it on the dresser, will you?"

"Don't you want to take it now?"

"No. I'd like to look in the mirror some more."

"I think you're enjoying this."

"Well, come on Harry, look at these eyelashes! They go for miles!"

Harry stepped closer to Draco and looked appraisingly at her eyelashes. "You're right! They do!"

And so Harry and Draco spent a few hours putting makeup and dresses on Draco's new girl-body.