A wish and a curse

Disclaimer: I suppose I better do one for this chapter, although it's probably not necessary. The characters aren't mine; neither is the setting or whatnot. The plot is, however.

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*Prod poke prod prod pinch poke*

'I'm getting' up…' He brushed sleepily at the person prodding him, missing.

*Poke pinch shake prod*

'YES, Dobby, I'm getting up….!' He whined, pulling the covers over his head, dismissively, lashing a hand out to knock the persistent house elf away. It took a few seconds for his sleepy mind to grasp the oddity of the situation… Dobby wasn't with them anymore… Stupid, ugly, Potter had set him free… So who was poking him? His father and mother certainly wouldn't stoop to such undignified behavior….

'Dobby?' Came the puzzled voice, muffled through the covers 'Come off it Ron, you're dreaming! Wake up! It's Christmas!' The prodding grew harder

Ron?  He started disentangling himself from beneath blankets… blankets; he froze… blankets that weren't his…

'Oh DO hurry up Ron! There are so many presents to open! Your family's waiting!'

A girl's voice? That tore it, what the hell was a girl doing n his bedroom? He must be dreaming…. Yet it didn't FEEL like a dream. He threw the covers off angrily, hoping desperately that the dregs of whatever weird dream this was would be gone with the morning light…

'AAAARGH!' He shrieked and scrabbled backwards to the bed head, bruising his backbone painfully. Harry Potter frowned at him and exchanged a worried look with Hermione.

"Potter! Granger what are you doing in my…' His voice stuck in his throat as he stared around the tiny little, violent orange bedroom. Frog tank, tiny quarters, mess everywhere, cheap, battered floorboards… his face went ashen

'Where am I?' he managed to whimper, his knuckles white on the blankets. This was definitely not the Malfoy mansion. And it wasn't a dream

Harry muttered something to Hermione and she scampered out as fast as she could run. Harry put a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder 'You're home, Ron- your bed room, and it's Christmas…' he explained in that overly slow voice one uses to a frightened or disturbed child. Draco shoved the hand off his shoulder.

'What have you done, Potter?' He spat, throwing the blankets off, his voice, although trying to sound angry, seemed only a frightened quaver, he swallowed and tried harder 'Don't play stupid with me! What have you and that mudblood Granger do-Ooo... Oh, oh- Oh my God…' He choked, the scant authority he had managed to sum up dying. He'd thrown the covers off completely, uncovering his legs.  Paisley, too short pajamas He was wearing paisley too short pajamas, on legs longer then his own… His hands flew to his face, running over unfamiliar contours, long nose, rounded face, longer hair, and he whimpered breathlessly in panic, dignity totally forgotten

Harry looked positively baffled. He would have suspected Snape of attending flower arranging classes before he would have expected Ron to call Hermione a "mudblood", not to mention his friend rather sudden attack of hysteria. Harry had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Thankfully, Mrs. Weasly ran in, with half the Weasly tribe thundering after, Hermione spearheading them. Harry was very, very glad Hermione was out of the room for Ron's last speech.

'What on Earth is going on?' Mrs. Weasly asked, staring about the room 'What's this about Ron having nightmares?' Fred and George snickered. Harry shook his head

'Mrs. Weasly, I- uh, don't think it's a nightmare, he's acting all strange, like he's lost his memory or something, he started yelling at me. It's like he's someone else…' Harry tried to explain, more then glad to get away from the person he had known as Ron

'Of COURSE I'm someone else you foul, scar headed moron! You did this!' He snarled, pointing a shaking finger at the alarmed Harry. Even Ron's expression and gestures were different.

Mrs. Weasly's face had gone rather blank, a small frown creasing her brow. She went to feel Ron's temperature but he slapped her hand away

'Don't touch me, woman…' He snarled. Mrs. Weasly looked affronted, then slapped him sharply across the cheek. The pseudo Ron looked shocked

'You'll do as I tell you in my household!' Mrs. Weasly said in that tone all children know all too well. 'Now who are you and what have you done with my son!' She shrieked at him. He paled even more under his freckles, looking around at the army of Weasly's in the door.

Draco suddenly realized that none of these degenerates had done this, not even Potter or Granger, their act was just too sincere. If he admitted who he was, well, he knew he was hated by at least four of the people in the room, and Mr. Weasly no doubt dissed his father.  He swallowed hard. He was alone, trapped, frightened, with no idea how he got there, or how to get back. He furiously battled the sudden stinging in his nose, and blinked furiously. Malfoy's DO NOT snivel!

'I-I'm….' He stammered, trying to figure out a way out of this. 'I'm… It's none of your business!' He snapped desperately. Mrs. Weasly didn't look impressed, he shifted out of her slapping range, and hugged his knees 'I just want to go back, you wait until my father finds out, he'll be so mad at you l….'

'Malfoy…' Harry supplied, eyes suddenly narrowed with hate. 'Draco Malfoy.' Malfoy gave Harry a look full of daggers

'Ah, yes, well, I think I know what's happened.' The bumbling, Muggle loving fool, Arthur Weasly stepped in, around the murderous glares of the rest of the family. 'Tell me, young Malfoy, were you possibly thinking of changing places with Ron last night?'

Draco grew outraged 'How did you jump to THAT conclusion? Like I'd WANT to live here in this dingy little run down…'

'I didn't mean' He said, voice raised over Draco's 'That you thought about it in a positive way…'

Draco swallowed, eyes darting to the horrid looks on the faces all around 'Maybe… what's it to you?' he said with false bravado.

'Yes, well, Ron was just last night wondering what it'd be like to live as you do, and I think…  Well, I wouldn't have thought of it if Ron hadn't been saying just last night…' He shook his head 'I may be wrong, that is, opened a subconscious mental 8whatsydo8 spell…'

'Speak properly, if a foolish Muggle lover like you can' Arthur went a bit pink, while everyone else looked baffled.

'Ah, well, thinking a similar thing at the same time… you and Ron accidentally... uh... Switched bodies… it's a very old spell, I thought it was just a myth, myself…'

Draco sat there mouth open. 'I- he, we… What? It, it can't be… You mean he's in MY body? At MY house?' He spluttered.

'You mean this slimy little git has taken over our brother?' Fred spluttered. Ron's face went red with anger, as Draco, it wouldn't have been visible, but Ron's body… he got to his feet and snatched up Ron's wand, but unanimously everyone in the room leveled his or her own wand at him.

'Arthur, take them all downstairs. I wish to have a word with Mr. Malfoy…' Molly Weasly looked like a storm cloud. Draco lowered the wand. Looking around desperately at the angry faces. There was no escape.

'Ah- right- come along lads- ladies…' Arthur started ushering the crowd outside. There were many hostile looks thrown in Draco's direction. Finally, however, the door shut behind them.

Mrs. Weasly rounded on Draco, hands on her hips, face dark enough to make even Malfoy back up a few steps.

'Now young man, while you're in MY house, in MY son's body, you follow MY rules…'  She scolded shrilly. 'I don't CARE who your father is, I don't care how you've been treated in the past, here you're a Weasly until we can get Ron back. DO you understand?!'

Draco managed to nod his head and force out a rather breathless, squeaked 'Yes ma'am' looking at his feet, anger, humiliation burning within.

Mrs. Weasly's attitude changed in the blink of an eye. She put her arm around his shoulder and gave him a one sided hug. 'Now don't worry, we'll sort it all out, okay? You'll be alright.'

He nodded, feeling decidedly uncomfortable with the peculiarly affectionate behavior.

'Come on now, let's go downstairs. I won't let the other children pick on you. You didn't want this to happen any more then we did.' She straightened his pajamas 'Now, we can't have you starving on Christmas morning. Come down and have a spot of breakfast. Would you like that, hmm?'

Draco was thrown. What the hell was this woman on? One minute she's trying to scorch off his eyebrows with her words, and then the next minute she's all hugs and kind words.

'I'll pop outside and wait; now you get changed- Ron's clothes are in his wardrobe there and that chest of drawers.' He nodded dumbly and she beamed at him. 'Come out when you're dressed dear, we'll have breakfast and sort out what we shall do.'

With that, she left, shutting the door quietly.

He stood there for a minute, staring at the door blankly. WHAT the hell was he going to do?! He peered out the window. Too high, and besides, he didn't know where he was or where to go. He sat down on the bed, head in his hands. This was too much. When his father found out… he shook himself and went to the wardrobe. Might as well do as the Weasly woman asked.

Disgust. The whole thing was made up of threadbare hand me downs. He rifled through the drawers. Nothing, all worn and tatty.

It took a full quarter of an hour to find something that looked half decent. The knees of the jeans were worn and the black t shirt was faded slightly, but it looked as if it had been in the back of the drawer for several years. Something at least.

He changed his underwear as quickly as one could, really not willing to know what Ron looked like naked, or what his underwear looked like, then slipped into the outfit he'd chosen, and looked at himself in the cloudy mirror, running a comb through his horrible red Weasly hair.

'Looking smart today' the mirror wheezed. Draco sneered, his expression strangely imprinted on Ron's face.

'You ready dear?' Mrs. Weasly knocked and called through the door. Draco deliberately broke a few comb prongs and dropped it. Close enough. He opened the door roughly, hoping the Weasly woman was behind it. She wasn't.

'Well, if we hadn't known already you weren't Ron we'd know now.' She said, eyeing his outfit. His eyes narrowed, sensing and insult. She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Ron's never that neat. Come now. Let's have breakfast.'
Draco's bare feet cringed against the threadbare carpet and he began to wish he'd worn some shoes; he felt like the ingrained dirt in the carpet was caking his feet.

Landing after landing- hell, the Malfoy mansion was about the same amount of floors high…

Finally, they arrived in the cluttered kitchen. All eyes turned balefully to him. He affected the most arrogant, contemptuous posture he could and allowed himself to be lead to the table. He was positioned, wisely, between the two senior Weasly's.

'Uh- Draco, lad- just wondering…' He turned to the simpering Arthur Weasly 'Would your father receive a message today? I was thinking perhaps we can get you both together- you and Ron, I mean... and sort it out… perhaps go to the accidental magical reversal department or something… but I need to know whether attempting to contact Lucius would work.'

'Father would probably reject a summons from the likes of you.' He said honestly, allowing malice to creep into his voice, however, he caught Mrs. Weasly's glare and hastened on 'But if you kept trying- he might… if he knows Ron's taken over my body then he'll probably come to you.' He grinned with satisfaction. His father would positively tear strips from this Muggle loving family…

'Ah- right then. I'll give it a shot- right after breakfast…' Arthur said with a hesitation.

Mrs. Weasly levitated several large pans of various fried good to be poured out on plates.

As Draco sat staring disdainfully at the pile of greasy vegan's nightmare, and the presents sat under the Weasly tree, waiting to be opened, Ron was having a MUCH different time…