Ha! Told you I'd be quick, didn't I? Didn't I? **Checks** ok, maybe I didn't. But I was. Confused? It's going to get worse. Just remember for the next bit that Harry's Ron and Ron's Harry.  Sorry about the clichéd-ness at the beginning, but I had to tie up some loose ends and couldn't really work out how to do it properly.

NB: I was listening to Terry Pratchett while I wrote the majority of this, so the writing might have a certain sarcastic quality to it…

Snape was late. The class chattered unconcerned to themselves for a while, before the door opened and in skipped Wendy.

"Morning, you lot!" she trilled. "Unfortunately Professor Snape has been detained, and while I'm sure he's missing all of you dreadfully," most of the class sniggered, "he is, at this moment in time, unable to attend this lesson."

"Aw, what a shame," said Dean, making all of the Gryffindors laugh.

"Quite, Dean, quite. Righto… where'd the old vampire put his lesson plans?" Wendy dug into the desk drawers and pulled out a neat stack of paper, which she preceded to scatter all over the desktop.

"Ah. Er… says here, you're meant to be brewing the 'Insania' potion. Goodness, that sounds cheerful." A few people chuckled. "Ahm, apparently, it's supposed to fill you with inspiration for a few minutes. The best friend of authors and artists everywhere. Right, well, open your books to page three hundred and four, and ready, get set, go!"

"Mad," Harry heard Malfoy say from across the room. "My father told me she was in exile for quite some time… probably lost her marbles a while back…"

"Can I hear talking, Mr. Malfoy?" Wendy called from behind the desk. "That's not the behaviour I'd expect from a prefect. Ten points from Slytherin!"

Harry sniggered. Malfoy rounded on him. "Think something's funny, Weasley?"

"Not at all… Draco," Harry simpered. Ron choked as he dropped the octopus tentacle onto the desk.

"What about you, Potter?"

"Oh, nothing whatsoever," said Ron. "I didn't say a word."

"You were in the paper again this morning, weren't you, Potter?" Malfoy said to Ron, his normally pale face rapidly turning red. "Did the nasty Muggles get locked away? What's going to happen to you now, d'you think? Reckon Weasley'll take you in? Ha, think again, Potter. They haven't got enough gold to support a dormouse, let alone another human being…"

"Whoa, Malfoy, what's that hanging out of your nose?" Harry said quickly, to prevent Ron from jumping on the smaller boy.

Malfoy's hand was halfway to his face before a smirk played across his lips. "Please, Weasley," he sneered. "As though I would fall for something like that."

"Oh, all right then," said Harry. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Harry and Ron turned away, but not before Ron sneaked a last glance at Malfoy, who was surreptitiously trying to see his reflection in his cauldron without anyone noticing.

"Well done," whispered Hermione in relief.

"Don't get too comfortable," Ron growled, pushing black hair out of his eyes for the hundredth time. "I was just about ready to pound his little rat features into the floor."

"May I remind you that you're now practically the same height as him, Ron," said Hermione.

"Oh, you don't need to," said Ron, chucking beetles eyes haphazardly into the cauldron, which was on a moderate heat and climbing. "I nearly tripped over my own feet climbing the stairs. Harry – you really need to get a haircut, pal."

Harry laughed lightly at Ron's attempts to keep his hair behind his ears. They worked in silence for a while, before Ron said: "Harry? Why don't I need glasses?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, the only reason you don't need glasses anymore is because the shield that you've got up all the time evens out your prescription, right? But even though I'm in your body, you're still the one with the shields. So how come I can still see properly?"

Hermione stared at him. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

"Yeah," said Ron, proudly, grinning at her.

"Well…" said Harry, thinking about it. "This is the way I understand it. We haven't really swapped bodies – that's sort of what a polyjuice potion does. What it actually means is that we only look like we're in each other's bodies. Like… er…" he pointed to the scar in the centre of Ron's forehead. "Like my scar. It looks like you've got it, but that's really only an illusion of it. It's still here…" he pointed to his own forehead, "under your illusion. And even though it looks like I've got blue eyes, they're still green. Underneath. And the shields that I'm putting up are still evening out my vision, and if I took them down I'd still need glasses."

This time it was his turn to be stared at.

"Something like that anyway," he added.

Ron grinned. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

Before either Harry could answer, or Hermione could do anything of considerable damage to Ron, Professor Little called Ron up to the front of the classroom. Hermione motioned Harry to move, and he almost tripped over the bench in his haste to cover up his hesitation.

"Well," Wendy said, as soon as he was out of earshot of the rest of the class. "I see you finally mastered the mirror charm."

Harry gaped at her. "How…?"

"Oh, nothing special. It comes with being Witch."

Harry thought about that for a moment. "But Hermione's a witch, and she couldn't tell. So are all the other girls in the school."

"Not a witch. Witch. With a capital W. It's a more polite way of saying sorceress."

"WHAT?"

"Shut up. It's not that big a deal. It just means I've got elvish blood, ok?"

Harry stared.

"Look, forget it. I shouldn't have let that slip – it just means I see – and do – things differently from other people."

And that was true, Harry realised. She could see through the mirror charm. She knew the results of experiments that had never before been tested. In Harry;s first week back, she had apparated across the classroom even though it was supposed to impossible to apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds. And last month… hadn't she used the disarming charm to summon Harry's wand from his pocket. That shouldn't have worked… but still… elves…

"Do elves exist?"

"Of course they don't!" Wendy hissed, looking over his shoulder to check if anyone was listening. "Except for House Elves anyway, and they're barely… I mean… they used to. And then they bred with humans and died out. There's only one other one left, that's descended from… from them." She sighed and narrowed her eyes at him. "And all I wanted to do was congratulate you on managing that charm."

Harry laughed. "Well, you did that."

"You got a significant amount of points, I suppose – assuming you did this under supervised conditions."

"Yeah, Flitwick gave us twenty each."

"Take an extra ten, for overcoming that block. Now go back and continue bullying the hell out of Malfoy."

Harry turned to go back to his seat, before looking back at her. "You're House-ist, d'you know that?"

"Of course," said Wendy. "Who isn't?" This time even Harry could tell she was joking.

"What did little Little have to say to you, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered when Harry sat back down behind the cauldron. Harry thought about this before answering.

"Do you know, Malfoy – that must be the worst play on words I've ever heard in my whole life?"

888

After lunch, Hermione, Ron and Harry (in theory) made their way up three flights of stairs to Transfiguration. They'd seen the teachers in the Great Hall but hadn't approached anyone, and Harry and Ron, after long, sporting conversations with Dean, Seamus, Fred, George and everyone else who happened to be listening, had somewhat got the hang of answering to each other's names. Dean and Seamus had helpfully forgotten about the mirror charm, as had pretty much everyone else. It helped that they'd both been able to see their reflections in most of the tuppelware. Harry had never really noticed this before but it had sure come in useful a few times back there when he was on the verge of a slip-up.

"Stairs, stairs, stairs," Ron complained as they climbed the third and final flight. "This place is made of stairs."

"You say that at least five times a day, you realise," said Hermione, glancing vaguely up the corridor to where most of the remaining fifth year Gryffindors were lining up outside McGonagall's classroom.

It didn't look much different when they got inside. The walls were still a slightly navy shade of blue, the desks still odd animal shapes.

The lesson progressed in much the same way as the last one had – they were studying ratios of how small things could be before they could stop being transformed into larger things, and vice versa. None of this meant very much to Harry, who'd been able to transfigure a pin into an armchair before anyone had taught him about reason. That was the thing about learning from Wendy. She expected you to be able to do anything – so you did.

Hermione, and most of the other girls, disappeared when they got back to the common room, just like they did every afternoon. Harry filled Ron in on what Wendy had said in Potions. Ron didn't seem incredibly surprised.

"Well, I knew they'd have had to exist at some point," he said. "I mean, where do house elves come from?"

Harry grimaced.

"Oh shut up. But… it means she must have… I dunno… raw power?"

Harry thought about this. "But if Wendy has it, wouldn't that mean Sirius…"

"Are you mad? Elves are girls. Could you imagine someone like Sirius harnessing raw power?"

"Wendy said there was one other."

"Well, it'd be a girl then. Unless it's you."

Harry threw a cushion at him.

Harry and Ron sat in the common room for a while, hovering over their homework without actually doing anything. "What do they do up there?" Ron wondered, vaguely.

"No idea," said Harry, trying to focus on his essay. He was starting to work up a headache, and it was annoying him beyond belief.

"I mean, brushing your hair doesn't take that long, even if you're a girl…"

Harry noticed Ron rubbing at his – Harry's – forehead.

"Headache?" Harry asked.

"Mm. You?"

"Yeah…"

They looked at each other.

"Haven't you two started yet?" it was Hermione, coming down the staircase with her bag slung over one shoulder.

"No."

Hermione sighed. "How you two think you're going to pass your OWLs I'll never know."

888

People were whispering in the entrance hall when they got down. This wasn't unusual, not for Hogwarts, but Harry became slightly suspicious when Wendy came running towards them. "What's he doing?" she hissed.

"What?"

"Remus, you idiot!"

"I don't know – what are you talking about?"

Wendy appeared to accept this. "He's in there, sitting calm as anything – with that, that… guest of Dumbledore's."

"Guest?"

"Yes – you know that enchanted dog people were all gabbling on about? Well, turns out Dumbledore found a cure. The man's…" she paused for the use of a better word than what she had originally been meaning to say. "An unspeakable. Found someway to trap darkness in one place," she lowered her voice, "which sounds jolly clever but actually makes him look more like a Dement –"

She realised suddenly that she was talking to thin air and turned to see the two boys running at top speed into the Great Hall, with Hermione not far behind. "-or," she finished, never one to let a sentence go to waste.

Harry skidded to a halt when he saw the Head table for himself. "It's true," he hissed, as the three of them sidled around the Hufflepuff table to Dumbledore's end.

They weren't the only ones trying to get close enough to talk to Remus. Several of the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students in third year and over were heading over for a chat, though Harry noticed that they, unconsciously or not, always stood on Remus' right, because on the left sat Sirius, complete with black cloak and hood. He was still – Harry's mind could only supply the word faceless- and leant back in his chair, observing the students.

"So," said Harry, when they got close enough to talk without anyone listening. "What're you doing down here?"

"Story is, I'm here visiting Wendy," said Remus. "It's no secret that we were friends back in school."

"No one told her."

"Sorry?"

"No one told her you were… visiting."

Remus laughed, if a little nervously. "Surprised, was she?"

"Furious."

"Fair enough. You all right, Harry? You're being a bit quiet."

Harry looked up at Ron. Say something, can't you? They think you're me!

~Like what? ~

Ask Sirius what he's doing here, there's a start.

"What're you doing here?" Ron repeated.

"Oh, was that all you were worried about?" said Sirius, in a voice that was not his own – he'd managed to lower it several octaves and he rasped as he spoke. "Well, the truth is, we haven't had any word from Snape since yesterday morning. Dumbledore's afraid there might be some kind of action tonight, so we all have to be –"

Remus punched him in the elbow. Luckily, only half the staff was seated, so no one else had heard Sirius' words.

"It's only a very small chance," said Remus to Ron. "Nothing for you to worry about, Harry."

"Sure," said Harry as they made their way through the excited, chattering students to the Gryffindor table. "Like the attack on that school was nothing to worry about. If we faint in the middle of the feast…"

Dumbledore stood up as the rest of the students and faculty filed in. "Happy Halloween, everyone!" he announced. No where on his face could Harry see signs of worry, but he knew by now that this proved nothing – if anything, it was a bad sign.

Harry knew it was coming at the exact point that the food was cleared away. The teachers had started to look relaxed, even Sirius was leaning back contentedly in his chair and gazing (though it was hard to tell) at the ceiling.

He knew that Ron had felt it too, he could sense it without having to look at the pained, scrunched up expression or the clenched fists. You'll have to tell them, Harry told him, his scar, while not visible, leaving prickles along his forehead that made him want to rip his skin clean off.

~Why me?~

Because you're me, and they won't listen to me, that's why!

~You mean I'm you and they won't listen to me.~

Whatever. Do it!

Ron stood up. "Sir –" he tried to say, but had to take a deep breath as pain shot along both his head and his hand – he was feeling Harry's pain.  The hall went quiet. "They're coming," he finally managed. The hall was silent.

Dumbledore stood. "All students against the walls, please," he announced in a clear voice. The main student body obeyed – Harry suddenly felt his arm in a tight grip.

"Come along, Mr. Weasley."

"But –!"

"Come now," said Professor McGonagall, dragging him towards the far wall. Harry could see Ron in Harry's body being patted on the shoulder by the Headmaster as the remaining teachers, Wendy, Remus and Sirius formed a human wall in front of the students. Dumbledore lifted his hands. The tables disappeared, and in front of Harry was… a shield. A blue shield, streaked with silver. It encompassed the entire hall, trapping the students against the wall. A first year touched it, and screamed as it burnt his finger. Professor McGonagall called him and all the other first years to her – Harry only had eyes for what was happening behind the shield. Ron was out there. Wendy was looking like she was trying to explain Ron and Harry's situation to Dumbledore when…

The doors burst open.

888

The Death Eater's gaze swept over the room until, at the centre, he saw what he was looking for. Dumbledore, some teachers, Little, Lupin, Potter and a man whose face was shrouded stood in a protective circle. Behind them and to the sides, a huge, blue-silver shield kept the other students and teachers at bay.

Potter stood forward, with a sideways glance to where… was that Ron? was banging on the shield with both fists, oblivious to the pain it must be causing him. Alula… he hadn't seen her for a long time… was frantically whispering to Dumbledore, who looked tired  - he was obviously the one holding up the shield.

He stepped forward to meet Potter, who had an odd expression on his face. It looked as though he was trying to work something out.

"What do you want?" the boy asked, slowly. There was a resonance in his voice that suggested… fear?

"Not you," he said, taking care to muffle his voice behind the hood. "Not this time."

"If you think you can just waltz in here and take something, you've got another thing coming," said Alula from behind Potter.

"Ah," he said, as the Death Eaters came in and fanned out around the room. "But that's where you're wrong, I'm afraid." He laughed. "A simple blue-silver shield? What do you think I am, Dumbledore?"

He threw back his hood. It was Peter Pettigrew.

888

"YOU!"

Remus had to launch himself onto Sirius to prevent him jumping on Pettigrew.

"Me."

Harry, from behind the shield, watched Wendy's face carefully. She did nothing, merely stood there in complete and utter shock.

"If you don't want H – me," said Ron, clenching his fists in anger, "who are you here for?"

"Sir!" one of the Death Eaters called out. "Over here."

"Sir?" Remus spat, still holding tightly to Sirius shoulders, his werewolf strength all that was keeping his friend from running into certain death. "Well, well, Peter, it looks like you finally managed to commandeer some respect among your peers…"

Wendy looked at Remus, as Pettigrew moved over to where the Death Eater had called him.

"Remus… how…?"

Pettigrew laughed. "You mean you don't know?" he chuckled, his eyes roving over the terrified students. "You've been trusting them since August and you still don't know?"

"You… you… Peter?"

"Aha!" Peter, it seemed, had found what he was looking for. Without a moment's hesitation he thrust his silver hand through Dumbledore's shield. It disappeared for a split second before flickering back to life again as Dumbledore himself sank to his knees. But it was too late – Peter had Sarah Pordell by the collar.

"SARAH!" Harry yelled from the other side of the hall pounding on the blue light with everything he had. Hermione grabbed onto his arm.

"Harry, please!"

Suddenly he realised – if Pettigrew could do it, so could he… taking a deep breath he reached into the shield… it let him through. His veins sparkled with fire for a brief second but before his brain could register it as pain he was in front of the shield and could see Pettigrew clearly for the first time.

Sarah, dangling limply from Pettigrew's arms, seemed to have fainted from the sheer pain of being dragged through a shield that was too strong for her.

888

"Let her go, Pettigrew," Peter heard a voice say. It didn't sound angry. It didn't sound brave. It didn't come from Potter. Standing just outside the shield was Ron, and he was crouched in a fighting stance.

"I don't think so, Ron," Peter said. "You appear to have made a mistake. In case you haven't noticed, I have fifty death eaters on my side and you've got a few old teachers and a few hundred children. I doubt that this time Potter will be able to save as many as sixteen."

"You bastard," Ron spat from in front of him.

"Language, Harry."

"I'm NOT Harry!"

"And I'm not Ron," said Harry, taking three, purposeful steps forward. "I'm afraid it's you who's made the mistake this time round, Peter."

The Death Eaters started whispering to each other, looking as confused as one can look when hidden behind a mask, and Pettigrew's rat-like eyes flickered between Harry and Ron.

"What –?" Something in front of Peter exploded, sending him reeling back a few feet. As one, the Death Eater's drew their wands.

"What was that?" Pettigrew growled, getting to his feet.

"An illusion, Peter," said Harry, coming even closer to become level with Ron. "Just like your so called power."

Take it off,  he told Ron silently.

~You're the boss.~

Both Harry and Ron's images melted away, and they were suddenly revealed as being… each other.

They drew their wands.

"You're insane!" Peter squeaked, drawing his own wand and keeping a tight hold on the unconscious Sarah as the Death Eaters closed in. "You can't win!"

"Bet you a galleon?" said Harry, coldly, before the two of them raised their wands and the hall was suddenly bathed in blue and silver light, before turning pure silver, and then white. When it died away, the shield protecting the students was pure silver, Dumbledore was on his feet, and anyone was old and experienced enough to fight was standing at the ready, both in front and behind the Death Eaters.

The fight began.

Oooh, cliffie! Well, I spent nearly all day writing this, so BE PLEASED! And if you're not – tell me! If you are – tell me!!!

~*Laterose*~