Some notes about this chapter:
-Sorry it's so short.
-You learn about two new characters in this chapter. I'm sorry that introducing
them is rather rushed - I got to the end of the chapter and then couldn't really
add in.
The characters we know of are (body - person IN body):
Blaise Zabini - Harry Potter
Crabbe - Padma Patil
Goyle - Dumbledore
Neville - McGonagall (or I've at least tried to imply so... freebie I guess?)
Ron Weasley - Blaise Zabini
Draco - Lavender
I think that's everyone. And most of you already have figured out whose body
Snape is occupying.
Thank you to my wonderful reviewers!....
asdf (thank you :D), Shuki - aka Quickjewel (you're right - is it too easy to guess? :\ ), risi (thanks! ^^ I am 13, yep, I plan to publish a novel I am writing now within the next four years), IBitTheMufinMan (nah, everyone except the ghosts and house elves have changed bodies, so Pansy's not still in her body), Prophetess Of Hearts, goldenpaw (yep), Winnie2, XxDarkGoddessxX, Katie Lupin Black (I'll try and have Dumbledore explain that later - the idea is that Harry is safer if Voldie doesn't know whose body he's in), penny, Fuzzy-Bumpkins (yep), moraco (lol thanks :D), Ronda-Silverpaw, The Cat That Killed Curiosity, Andromeda Snape-Malfoy.
Here we go.
.~*~.
At least Harry wasn't the only one who seemed to have trouble getting
up early, he found when he got to the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning.
People all around the Hall were squinting to see what they were putting on their
plates, and stumbling to find empty seats at their house tables, some heading
for the wrong table before turning and heading to another.
He blew on the coffee in his cup before sipping it. It woke him up fairly quickly,
and he tried to remember what his first class was.
Ah, Divination, he mused. Maybe Trelawney won't be so batsy
now.
The bell rang and Harry drug himself to the Divination tower, where Trelawney
was seated at her desk, not in the shadows for once, frowning and holding a
cup of coffee.
He was one of the last there, and took a seat on one of the overstuffed chairs
and looked up at his teacher, realizing that while she still donned the overly-large
spectacles, Trelawney had no other bangles on her. It made her look a little
older.
Once all of the children were in the classroom, Trelawney swung her feet up
on her desk.
"Alright class. Frankly, I don't do the Divination stuff, so this
class will pretty much be a free period for you to do your homework in. I will
be willing to help you if you have any questions. None of you have homework
today, though, so you can either read your textbooks or talk quietly."
The words were like music to Harry's ears. No more would he have to hear
of his death being predicted (although he chose to ignore the fact that Blaise
probably didn't hear about his death that often). There was a small group
of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, who all looked at each other uneasily. Padma was
seated next to Harry. "This is great. I hate Divination."
"I know," Padma told him, stretching and yawning. "I
always have to make up everything for the assignments." Padma's
Ravenclaw badge was upside-down. "I pass somewhat anyway."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You sound a lot like Ron," he muttered.
Padma nodded. "Yeah, that's me."
"Seriously?" Harry grinned. He had a class with Ron.
"Um, yeah. Who're you?"
He leaned in and muttered into Padma's ear. "It's me. Harry."
"Oh!" Padma grinned at him. "Excellent!"
They talked back and forth lightly, sharing experiences of their new houses.
"Trust me, mate, be glad you didn't change to a Ravenclaw. They
have half a million stairs to get to the commons and then some more to the dorms."
He laughed. "Slytherin is cold."
"What did you expect?"
Crabbe snorted from the neighboring table. He had been reading The Daily Prophet.
"Who's Crabbe?" Padma asked, pointing a thumb over her shoulder
at her.
Harry shrugged. "Padma."
"What?"
"He's Padma," Harry repeated, rolling his eyes. Good to know
some things don't change.
They only parted when they reached the Charms hallway. Harry was extremely
thankful to have found at least one of his friends.
Charms was a rather shabby review period which most of the students talked during,
and the teacher gave up and joined a discussion about the house robes being
too monotonous. Harry was finding that it probably wasn't a good thing
that he wasn't receiving homework. It meant more time for boredom.
Lunch came, and Harry plowed down two courses of macaroni, before heading off
to get his books for Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic.
Care of Magical Creatures actually had a structured lesson, as well as homework.
At least Hagrid didn't actually bring a Quintaped to class, Harry
noted.
Upon entering the History classroom, the ghost professor entered through the
blackboard.
"As I am a ghost and am not currently a human, I am still you same old
professor. Now, in the 1700s there was a great wizard named...."
He started his Care of Magical Creatures assignment.
At dinnertime he shot out of the classroom, anxious to get to dinner. Dumping
his books in his dorm, he exited the commons only to run into someone.
Apologizing automatically, Harry looked up from where he'd landed on the
floor to the person he'd run into, expecting a glaring housemate or the
head of Slytherin, but jumped when he saw fiery hair and familiar robes with
small patches sewn onto the bottoms where the hem had been tripped over so many
times before.
"I want my stuff." Ron said, simply.
"Then what will I have?" Harry asked, a bit more bitingly than he
expected of himself. He missed his own voice, sociable instead of reserved.
He'd learned in the past few days that you could tell a lot about a person
from their voice. "You want you running around in nothing but Slytherin
boxers?"
Ron had started to speak and coughed before continuing what Harry had drowned
out. "You know what I mean. The book."
"Why do you want it?"
"Isn't it obvious by now? I've been learning to protect myself
from the Dark Lord. I don't recklessly serve myself to him on a platter,"
he sneered, looking down his nose at Harry. "But I do take precautions.
I do not plan to interrupt my studies just because of something like this."
He waved his arms around vaguely.
Harry rubbed his head. "You sound like Hermione."
"I wouldn't know," Ron told him, crossing his arms. "I
don't like the idea of being compared to a Gryffindor. Personally, I think
Gryffindors don't think enough about their actions."
Harry shrugged. "I'm not that fond of Slytherin either. The only
reason I'm in Gryffindor is because I didn't want to go to Slytherin.
Sorting Hat's idea."
Ron raised an eyebrow. Harry realized they were slowly walking towards the Hall.
"You told me that why?"
"I was wondering the same thing."
They walked in silence, at the same slow speed. Harry had to try hard to remember
that the redhead next to him wasn't Ron, that he couldn't start
talking about the Chudley Cannons or how boring History of Magic was and expect
to hold a conversation that wasn't awkward. Once again in his life he
felt very small.
"I expect my book after dinner," Ron said plainly, before heading
off in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Harry started to follow but remembered
he was a Slytherin, at least temporarily.
"Hey Blaise," Crabbe greeted him as he sat between him and Pansy,
who looked ready to fall asleep in her soup.
"Hi Crabbe," he responded, poking his soggy salad with a fork before
getting some chicken off a platter instead. "How're you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. What's with following Weasley? He nagging you
again?"
Pansy had glanced over at him, and he nervously got stuck in the middle of two
questioning glances, each completely oblivious to the other.
"Er." Pansy's eyes were very large and blue. Her hair still
looked mussed, like she hadn't bothered combing it for days. He found
his shoulder reminding him how comfy he'd been with Pansy asleep on it.
"Blaise?"
"Oh. Yeah. I mean, no. He was just asking me about. Classes." Harry
said jerkily, ripping his eyes from the girl's and answering Crabbe, making
up each word as he came to it.
"But he's in a different house. The houses don't have
similar schedules," he reminded him suspiciously.
"Um... I think he's a first year, all confused and stuff."
"Uh huh." He turned and talked to someone else down the table, and
Harry focused on looking at no one.
Ready to retire to his dorm, he found that Ron had put an arm over his shoulder
and was steering him back through the crowd of Slytherins turning in after supper
to an empty dungeon classroom.
"Um, I need to go into my dorm to get the book," Harry told him
as soon as Ron had snapped the door shut, still smiling in an intimidating fashion.
It didn't reach his eyes.
"It's not about that," he replied pleasantly, putting his
hands together. He frowned and stared into Harry's eyes, looking for something.
Shaking his head, he said patronizingly, "No, never mind. Draco's
seems to have enjoyed digging through your stuff, especially since he found
these."
He turned out his pockets, dumping a silvery object and a folded piece of parchment
on the desk. Harry groaned. His cloak, his map. Malfoy could have used them.
Then he realized with a jolt and a dirty feeling that Malfoy must be the one
occupying his body.
Ew.
"Malfoy's in my body?!"
"Uh huh."
With a repulsed look on his face, Harry tried to grab his map and cloak, but
Ron snatched them up before Harry could and held them above his head. His best
friend's body was a lot taller than Zabini's. He couldn't
reach them.
"You're not getting your book then."
"Yes I am."
"How do you expect to do that?" Harry asked him, raising an eyebrow.
"Slytherin persistence. I'll follow you. You can't go into
your common room without saying the password. I'll hear it."
"Then I'll hang out out here for a while," Harry said, shrugging.
"I can take my time."
"Curfew's soon. I'll put on your cloak and you won't
see me following."
Harry's eyebrows knitted themselves together.
"Why can't I have my stuff if you get your stuff?" he finally
asked wearily.
"Draco wants to play around with them a bit. What's the parchment
for?"
"If you don't already know, I'm not revealing that piece of
information," Harry told him, eyes narrowing.
"Fine, whatever, you take it. I don't really care. Now give me my
book."
"Fine."
Harry led Ron to the stretch of wall that opened to his–no, he caught
himself, Slytherin's–common room, Ron seemed to be staring at him
again.
"Stop it. You're making me nervous."
"I don't care about your personal comfort, Zabini. Get on
with it already."
"Billywig," Harry mumbled, kicking a quill out of his way
as he led Ron through the commons to his dorm. He stuffed the Marauder's
Map into his trunk and threw Ron's book at his head.
"Take your bloody book and get out, Weasley."
Ron left, smirking, and Harry fell onto his four-poster, staring up at the
velvet top. All the green was getting to him. He missed the bright red and gold
colors of Gryffindor.
Funny, he mused, he was getting somewhat used to the dungeons that he had to
live in until further notice. He still didn't like his predicament, but
he mused it was better than being turned into... he paused for a moment. Someone
old, or a professor who had to teach classes. He shuddered at the thought of
turning into Snape. The day he traded bodies with his potions professor was
the day he served himself to Voldemort on a silver platter.
Crabbe broke his train of thought, bursting into the previously serene dormitory
seething with anger. Harry looked over at him, but he just snapped his curtains
shut.
"What's up?"
There was no reply. He thought he heard a choked gasp.
He left the dorm quietly, not particularly wanting to hear Crabbe cry.
.~*~.
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