Harry and Draco left the kitchens and met Hermione and Ron outside the room for Transfiguration.

"Where were you two?" she scolded.

"Oh, you know us. Off snogging in a spare broom closet," Draco tossed out flawlessly.

Harry grinned and turned to him, "We really need to find someplace more spacious next time."

They turned back to see Hermione with a shocked look, and Ron trying not to purge his stomach of its lunch.

They were about to explain they had been joking when McGonagall stepped out. "Are you four going to come inside or should we have class out here?"

"Oh, out here would be a wonderful change!" Draco offered.

"It was a rhetorical question, young man. Get inside." They all shuffled inside and to the empty seats waiting for them. as McGonagall proceeded to take up everyone's homework. "Now, today, I have a potion for each of you, it will turn you into your animagus form for five minutes. One person from each group come up and retreive to vials. Once you have sat back down, one of you take the potion. Do not take your potion while the other is still in their form. Your work for tomorrow is to note your partner's form and speculate as to why that form chose them. The rest of class is a free period. Go find someplace you will have space to transform."

Harry and Draco, caught up in their excitement, neglected to pull Hermione and Ron aside and explain they had been joking. Perhaps the following events would not have happened if they had. However, Madame Fate has her ways.

The pair ran outside and sat by the lake. "I suppose one of us should take this," Harry noted.

"I'll go first," Draco volunteered and downed the potion. His face distorted in disgust. "There really needs to be a way to make potions taste better."

No sooner had he said this, than pure white feathers began to cover his skin and he melted into a regal-looking swan, who proceeded to fly for a moment or two before landing in the lake and swimming. Harry was taken aback. He had thought for sure the Slytherin would have become a snake, or fox, or some other slinky creature, not the ethereal beauty before him. The spell was broken however, when the potion wore off and Draco once more appeared before him, swimming in the lake, a few white feathers floating on the surface around him.

The blondewaded out, cast a drying spell and looked out at the lake. Seeing the feathers, he sneared, "Tell me I'm not a duck."

"You're not a duck."

"You're only saying that because I asked you to."

"No. You really aren't a duck. You're a swan."

"A swan?" Harry nodded. "Cool."

Harry took the remaining vial from his pocket and swallowed it, trying to keep it from touching his tongue. His efforts, however were fruitless, and his face, too, contorted in distgust. "Yeah, thing tastes bloody disgust-"

He was caught in mid-sentence as the potion began working. He too sprouted snow-white feathers, but he shrank and shrank, and took on the form of a dove. As soon as he was able, he took to the skies. Flying as high as he could, forgetting he had a limited amount of time. Soon, the potion wore off and he bgan to tumble toward the ground. Without even thinking about it, he summoned his firebolt and mounted in midair, making a clean landing before a terrified Draco.

"You scared the bloody shite out of me!" he yelled slapping Harry on the arm.

Harry looked sheepish, "Sorry."

"You're a dove, by the way."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Figures."

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him, "Why?"

"It's a Christian symbol for God, or the love of god, or something. Everyone already thinks I'm the bloody mesiah."

"Harry, most of us wizards won't get that. Only the muggle-borns."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence reigned as they walked back to the castle. "You were gorgeous, you know. And you seemed to have forgotten ever worry you ever had."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, flying does that to you."

"Mhmm."

"You were beautiful, too you know. All regal and pure."

Draco smiled. A real smile. One of the many to come afterward. "Thank you."

They walked in to History of Magic to find Ron and Hermione looking at them oddly. It wasn't until the pair sat at the desk in front of them that Harry realized what they mist be thinking.

He took out a piece of parchment, and ripped off a peice.

Quickly, he scribbled out, 'You know we were joking earlier, right? We aren't really shagging' and descreetly tossed it under the table behind him, making sure it hit Hermione's foot.

Soon, it lodged between his back and the chair. He stretched, and plucked it up, unfolding it under his desk.

Sure, Harry. If that's what you want us to believe, was written in Hermione's meticulous currsive. Just below it was Ron's answer.

Thank Merlin! That image will give me nightmares for weeks.