You are NOT halucinating! It's chapter ten, served to you four days after the update on 4/14! :D

Hola!

Some notes about this chapter:
-This was unplanned, but it was something I needed for my plan to work.
-Yes, this came out fast, it's not your imagination.
-I still don't particularly like this chapter, though. Padma-in-Crabbe is a bit too obsessive. Although, you never know what those crazy Ravenclaws will come up with next... *grins* And yes, that was the map. Just because she's Parvati's sister doesn't make her stupid.
-This is not going to be one of those fan fictions were Draco gets all goody-two-shoesy. He's still a Death Eater for Voldemort, not a spy for Dumbledore... but dancing between them, too. Also, he and Harry won't ever become great friends... they will [eventually] reach an understanding, though.
-In dialog, characters will often refer to the person IN the body if they know who's in there, not the body. Just thought I'd clear that up. If this could actually happen, most people would do that too. I like to keep it at least a *little* believable, especially since it's something as crazy as HPSS slash, lmao.
-I think... *tears* I have... w-writer's block.... *sheepish*

The characters we know of are (body - person IN body):
Blaise Zabini - Harry Potter
Crabbe - Padma Patil
Goyle - Dumbledore
Neville - McGonagall
Ron Weasley - Blaise Zabini
Draco - Lavender
Padma - Ron
Harry - Draco
Pansy - Snape

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers!....

LeeLeePotter - :P I can write Dumbledore if I need to, it just doesn't work when you've been listening to sucky music while you write. This danged pop is so addictive, even if Fefe Dobson can't *sing* sing... yes. *Clears throat* I need to get my Branch albums back into Winamp soon....
ESP - Yes, a lot of people think this story is weird. I should be proud. :D
Devona Wolfe - You got lucky again, lol. Four days. That's got to be the fastest I've ever updated a chapter of *anything*.
Necromant - Okay! XD
Winnie2 - Yes, he is; he doesn't understand that A) Harry does get very violent nightmares sometimes (but not as often as many fan fictions make it seem! Gah! Switched is NOT going to be one of those! Yes.) and B) Voldemort actually, like, got into Harry's thoughts in that nightmare. Remember, when Harry was taking Occlumency in book 5, Snape told him it was Remedial Potions... *grins*
risi - Just because Blaise-in-Ron burnt that letter doesn't mean that part of the plot's gone, it will be brought up again in chapters coming up. As for Dumbledore's comment to Sevvie-in-Pansy: he knows that they're interested in each other (*sniggers*) but he doesn't really know who is in Blaise's body. He's not that magical, lol.
penny
Greyhound Master - Erm, how can you make it to chapter nine and not know the pairings?? x_x
Elmindrea-al'Thor - Thanks :D
Kaaera - Lmao. I just wrote an outline, I'm not following it to the T or anything [obviously]. Heh heh. That would be impossible.
Fuzzy-Bumpkins
Sky - Yes! I despise plotlessness. Abhor. Hate. Severely dislike. (And yeah, it's only coincidence that my first ffn story and slash story was plotless... cough... don't read it, it sucks. --")
mistik-elf13
Ruth - Yep, the three of them are stuck working together now! Muahaha!
Awen - Alright. ;)

Ah yes, this is slash, male/male romance... between both Blaise-in-Ron/Draco-in-Harry and Harry-in-Blaise/Snape-in-Pansy (whew confusing)... just to enlighten the unenlightened. Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a girl who lives in the United States who happens to enjoy terrorizing JKR's creations.

.~*~.

Chapter Ten

"You took us to a snog closet, Potter?"
Harry ignored Draco's amused words as they walked down hallways with classes in session behind doors on either side. They reached an unused classroom, and he locked and silenced the door before turning back to them.
"Now," Ron sat cross-legged on the desk next to the one Draco was leaning against, "You fancy her, don't you?"
"What does that have to do with any of this?"

"Not much," he answered, shrugging. "I just like analyzing these sort of things."
Draco gave him a sarcastic look from his seat. "Then you'll get to the important stuff, I assume?"
"Shut up." He looked back at Harry expectantly.
"Sure, I like her. Let's talk about the damn letter, I still want to make it to my second class."
"Potter, worried about classes? Never thought I'd live to see the day," mumbled Draco.
"Don't worry, Potter, you've still got about an hour and a half until your next class."

"Ugh. Letter."
"Fine," Draco drawled finally. "You take all the fun out of things."
"I know," Harry said, flashing him a grin before sitting on another desk. "Now, what am I supposed to do?"
Nearly Headless Nick stuck a head through the door, but retreated when all three turned to glare at him.
"You might need to become a Death Eater," Draco said, shrugging. "Throwing away your life, it's not all that bad."

Both boys glanced over at him, somewhat concerned from his strong, sadistic statement. "Eh, you okay Malfoy?"
"I'm fine, Zabini."
"Well... I don't exactly wish to become a Death Eater."
"You rather be dead or a servant to the Dark Lord?"
"Dead."
"How the hell are you a Slytherin?" Both of them ignored Harry's question, of course. "And if you don't remember, I'm the one who will have to get the stupid Dark Mark if you were to become one. If you make me do that, I swear I'll go mad."
"We know, savior."

There was silence for a few minutes, during which Ron leaned against the legs he'd brought up to his chest. He stared forward at the chalkboard, and Harry had to note how he'd never seen the real Ron look so pensive or gloomy. His half-lidded eyes were definitely the same that Ron had when he yawned, but they conveyed a stronger emotion. Stress about living and dying and concern for others. Zabini had to have some concern left in there, especially from the way he'd said 'savior' with such a hidden sadness.
Harry looked out the window. In the distance was the Quidditch Pitch, weeds growing out of control. Some ivy had started to take over one of the Hufflepuff stands.
He heard a desk wobbling, and turned to see that Draco had walked over to Ron's desk and held up his chin, looking into the half-lidded eyes. The kiss that followed made Harry uncomfortable, and he knew he should've been staring out the window instead of watching his and his best friend's body snogging.

The thought made him red in the face. What if they were to do something in public? The rest of the school would think he and Ron were gay and an 'item'. He bit his lip and snapped his head back to looking out the window as the pair kissed behind him.
It made him think of Pansy. Had he really admitted that he liked her? No, he hadn't. That was to make them shut up. For once he didn't desperately wonder who Pansy was. He just felt like he needed someone. Pansy seemed as distant and vulnerable as Ron just had, if you bothered to look past her outward stubbornness.
He decided that he didn't care who Pansy was, even if she was Slytherin. He'd just seen it. Slytherins could be every bit as gentle as other houses, even in other bodies. Maybe especially in other bodies.

After the Charms class which Harry made it to with five minutes to spare, Harry walked outside during lunch to the patch of lake where he saw Pansy sitting and staring out at the water.
Her curly gold hair was braided today, which whoever was in her body had managed to do quite nicely, like they were used to it. He leaned on the rock she sat against, watching steam rise from the lake. She looked up at him.
"Why aren't you in eating lunch with the other Slytherins?"
"I could ask the same of you, but I won't," Harry answered, smiling. Her brows knit together.

She heard the crunching of teenage boots through grass even before Blaise had been close. Teenagers were so ungraceful.
Looking up at him, she'd asked him why he'd left the other Slytherins to come out here. He'd answered cheerfully, without actually answering the original question.
Why is he back? She wondered, sighing silently. I shocked him, didn't I? Tried to take advantage of him, like Patil said. This is wrong. So very wrong.

"Do you do this every day?" Harry asked, hopping over the rock and seating himself next to her. His chest fluttered, but he squashed whatever butterflies were in there. He was going to do this.
"Lately, yes, I have."
"Why? Isn't it lonely?"
"That's precisely why I do it."
Her words seemed familiar. He shrugged off the thought anyway.
"So, you only do it to distance yourself from everyone?" He swallowed, this was sounding incredibly cheesy. "Even me?"
She gave him a sharp look.

What the hell is he up to?

"What are you trying to accomplish, Zabini?"
Harry shrugged, forcing himself to keep looking into her eyes instead of out at the lake. "I'm not really, sure, actually."
"You didn't get the wrong idea from yesterday, did you?"
He shrugged. "I might've. But... er," his gaze still fell to the grass. "Two can play at that game, can't they?"
"What are you trying to do?" she asked, voice slightly hitched, as she stumbled trying to get up, hands slipping on the still-dewy grass.
She landed in his lap and froze.
Now or never, Potter, said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Draco.
But he was stuck too.

They watched one another for a few seconds, only centimeters apart, but Pansy slowly rose, brushing mud off of her knee and then remembering to clean it with a spell. She started to walk away, decidedly not looking back at him, but Harry caught hold of her arm.
"No... no. I came out here to do this, I might as well go through with it."
He pulled her to face him, and they were kissing.

Inexperienced brat, Pansy's mind was screaming. Insolent teenager. Innocent teenager.
Harry drew back at the slap that seemed to have come out of nowhere.
"What was that for?" he asked, incredulously. "I thought you wanted to be kissed, Parkinson!"
She closed her eyes. Harry impatiently waited for her to respond.
They opened. "No, Zabini. This is wrong."
"I don't care who you are," he said quickly.
"That makes you sound desperate. And no, I think you would definitely care who I am. Especially being a Gryffindor."
"I didn't mean it in a desperate way, Parkinson. I mean, I fell for you, not your name. I don't know who you really are. I really don't mind."
Fell for me? She stared at him wearily. He will deny this when he finds out who I am, she thought resignedly. Teenagers' feelings can change in an instant.

"Oh, never mind!" Harry turned around. He had to make himself walk.
"You will," she said. "When you find out who I am–"
"Why don't you just tell me, for Merlin's sake? Then I'll know! Unless you're, like, Flitwick, I seriously don't think I'd care who you are. Seventh year Slytherin? Big deal?"
"That seriously lowers my chances then," she answered sorely. "Since I'm no longer a seventh year."
Harry blinked. How could a student be past seventh year?
She walked away, unstopped this time by Harry.
I feel incredibly thick, he decided. I really need to get a yearbook and eliminate names to come up with the right person. Or look at the Map... but that's cheating. I won't.
"Well," he muttered. "I went through with it."

Pansy slumped against the wall of the common room. Crabbe was already in the common room, looking at something tucked inside his newspaper. When he saw Pansy, he stood.
"What're you doing here?"
"Getting my books?" Pansy shook her hair over her shoulder.
"I know who you are."
"Eh?" She turned around to look at Padma, confused. "Why would you think that?"
"You're molesting him." Crabbe was grinning from ear to ear, in a dangerously malicious way. Pansy took a step backwards automatically. "I know who he is, too."
"What the hell are you trying to do, Patil?"

Outside, Harry stared out at the lake, refusing to look down at his feet. He needed to practice doing that. Lately, whenever he said something he didn't really want to, his eyes had slipped downward. No longer.

Crabbe laughed. "Make your precious Zabini understand exactly why he wouldn't want you."
"You've gone mad."
He shrugged. "I know."
Outside, a bell rang. They were late for classes. Neither moved.
Finally, Pansy shook her head and started up the stairs to her dormitory. Crabbe followed her, still grinning, and used his wand to lock the door behind her, effectively pinning her in.
"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered, trying to back further into the door. She had no idea where this sudden panic had come from. She blamed it on being a girl.
"I should ask you what you're doing with him, Severus Snape."

Pansy kept her features even, except for the eyebrow she raised.
"Funny, Patil."
"Quit trying to pretend you're not, I know you are," she said. "I have proof."
"I'm so very honored that you think I'm the greasy Potions professor. Now, if you'll let me get to class...."
"Why didn't it work?"
"Eh?"
"I'm not telling you," Crabbe said bitterly, snatching a piece of parchment from inside the fold of the Daily Prophet she'd been reading. Pansy squinted, then doubted what she saw.
No, it couldn't be.

.~*~.

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