Disclaimers, what could they be, I wonder!

***

Ron snored loudly and sat up. The sun came down in sharp rays across his face. This was unusual, as Ron's bed was totally not near a window.

The boy leapt quickly out of the wrong bed, and padded over to the right one.

Harry Potter turned out to be lying in it.

Okay, thought Ron. That's bizarre. I think- I think I'll just brush my teeth.

When most of the Gryffindors had reluctantly risen from behind their hangings, Harry entered the boy's bathroom to discover Ron scrubbing his forehead furiously, muttering to himself.

"Ron?" he ventured. "You have a really bad zit or something?"

"No! Hey, wait, do I?" Ron stopped scrubbing his face and ran to peer in a mirror.

Ron turned slowly to look at Harry, not really sure that he wanted to look but positive that he had to all the same. "Harry… Where's your scar?!"

"Huh?" said Harry helpfully. "Went on holiday? Ran off with Malfoy?"

"And… while we're on the subject of, uh, SCARS, do you notice any new ones anywhere on my body?"

Harry leaned close to Ron and peered all over his arms, at his face and then at his feet. He shook his head.

***

Ron walked shakily into the Great Hall thinking maybe he should have some breakfast, maybe to calm his nerves since he wasn't the least bit hungry. Food usually did.

He had never felt like this in his life, ever. He wasn't hungry, and the room seemed to spin. He tried to place his foot on one part of the floor, but it jumped away from him, taunting him, LIKE THE BLOODY PIECE OF CRAP IT WAS!

Ron sighed and threw himself down on a bench, trying to avoid Fred's eyes. He did not need any comments from his hilarious brothers today, plus he didn't want anyone to notice the new scar on his forehead, which must have been imprinted while he lay asleep on his new Viktor Krum figurine. Fred might say that Ron was trying to be like Harry and the redhead cringed at the thought.

However, to Ron's surprise, neither Fred nor George said a thing.

Hermione gazed at him in concern. Ron stuffed a sausage into his mouth, implying that she shouldn't press him for information as he wouldn't be able to reply.

"What's wrong, Ron? Did something happen? Does your sc-" Hermione's tirade of sympathy was cut short as Harry elbowed her in the ribs. Ron almost choked on his sausage. Since when did Harry think about anyone but himself these days? Anyone but himself and Sirius…

Ron felt hot, angry tears well up in his eyes, completely unable to stop the flow. He sat frozen in shock. He had not experienced this feeling of… grief - before.

Knife and fork clattering to the floor in his wake, Ron ran out of the hall. At speed.

***

Hermione would call it delayed grief or something, Ron decided as he entered the potions classroom for his first lesson, more than ten minutes early. Snape dropped his wand in shock.

Ron ignored the git and waited for his friends to arrive.

The first students started to filter unenthusiastically into the dungeon. Was it just him, or were people staring at him more than usual? Maybe it was something to do with him running out of the hall like he was on fire at breakfast that did it. Then again, maybe his imagination was playing tricks on him, or the stares were just a by product of this very weird day.

Ron noticed uncomfortably that they stared at him very much in the way they usually stared at his best friend, Harry.

Slowly, he began to wonder whether it was possible that he and Harry had switched lives… Magically induced.

As soon as the thought crystallised Ron dismissed it as ludicrous, of course! Although certain things would indicate otherwise. For one thing, the long, lightning shaped zit on his forehead. And secondly, those peculiar, blatantly admiring glances he kept receiving.

And he had figured the mystery out on his own, for once! Instead of Harry or Hermione! Hah! The boy rejoiced whilst vigorously chopping his carrots into exactly spherical chunks for his Purifying Potion.

A small disturbance at the end of the lesson put Ron in a even better, if an ever more quizzical mood, also. Neville had been instructed to bring a beaker full of Purifying potion to Snape's desk, but thanks to Blaise Zabini's wandering foot, he hadn't quite made it.

Unfortunately for Malfoy, the beaker had spilt in his direction, all over him. The tube full of hair gel he had slicked on that morning evaporated in a misty vapour and his hair sprung out in dramatically increased volume. Harry found this really funny and likened him to younger Hermione, so the older Hermione had kicked him in the shin. Ron realised that if today had been a normal day, he would have made that comment, instead of feeling a terrifying wave of sympathy for the furious blond boy.

Ron was exiting the dungeon of lost souls with Harry and Hermione bickering in his ear, and as he stepped in to the dimly illuminated corridor Draco Malfoy brushed past him, roughly pushing a note into his hand.

Almost dropping it, Ron hurried clumsily behind a pillar to read the elegantly folded piece of paper. I'm surprised it isn't stamped and sealed with the Malfoy crest, he thought derisively.

But then he remembered beforehand to read the note as Harry Potter, not Ron Weasley, and he briefly wondered what in the world Malfoy could want. He hastily ripped the note open before anyone could notice him hiding (not very well) behind the pillar, like a Lockhart gone bad. He hastily ripped the note open, and found it to read as follows:

My dearest R,

My body and heart cannot wait for tonight. My soul cries out for yours. Meet me in the usual place at lunch.

Yours forever , D.

Ron almost choked on his own tongue. Malfoy and… Harry? Harry and Malfoy? No, wait, Malfoy and me! Ron let out a cry of mirth as he left the dungeons for break. This was too hilarious. He had opted to laugh in the face of this revelation, as he was Ron Weasley, at heart, after all.

And as he shoved the note in his pocket, sauntered up the steps and disappeared from view, good old Snape watched from the shadows.