a/n: Chapter 3 of 5, a day early because of the holiday! And the plot thickens, as does… erm… something else… :blush: And for those of you who haven't figured out Harry's plan, I hope this makes it painfully clear. :P

Thanks for all the reviews so far!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Harry, mate… Are you doing… homework? On a Friday?"

I looked up from my book rather guiltily, but not because I was doing my Charms homework on Friday, the most sacred of weekdays, in Ron's opinion. I gave him a shrug.

"And what if I am?"

His eyes went wide and his nose scrunched up in that way that Hermione thinks is so adorable, but she'd never admit it out loud. I think it looks like he's inhaling a nice nose-full of dung and I think more people would tend to side with me on that one.

He shook his head.

"Well, there's a party in the Hufflepuff common room tonight and I thought you could be my date."

Ron's eyebrows wiggled and I laughed, but secretly I was thinking about how I'd never date Ron simply because I'd want people to think I had better taste… Well, that and the fact that I'm not gay… I don't think…

"I think I'll pass, love."

He made a face.

"What, you have plans or something?"

I didn't answer.

"Oh, so you do have plans…"

I gave him another halfhearted shrug and a small smile.

"I get it. So long as those 'plans' aren't with my sister, I'll keep it hush-hush."

"I'd appreciate that, Ron."

He gave me a wink and turned to leave, but stopped, his hand on the door.

"If you change your mind, the Hufflepuff password is 'Cedric'. Just yell it at the still-life portrait near the kitchens. The bananas are a bit hard of hearing…"

"How do you know the password to the Hufflepuff common room?"

"Oh, it's been 'Cedric' ever since he died. It's a nice gesture, though a bit stupid, since everyone knows what it is."

"Maybe they trust people not to break in"

Ron looked at me the same way he did back when we were first years and I knew absolutely nothing about the wizarding world. I hate that look.

"Never trust people, Harry."

And with that grave statement, he left the room whistling a cheery tune, shutting the door behind him. I went back to pretending to read my Charms book, but really I was rubbing the bottle of Polyjuice Potion (with three brown hairs freshly added) in my pocket and waiting for the clock to strike eleven.

XXX

The Gryffindor common room was absolutely deserted, for which Harry was grateful. If there had been someone in there to lie to, there was no telling the reasons he might have given as to why he was wearing one of Hermione's skirts and Ginny's infamous "leaves nothing to the imagination" sweater. Lying under pressure was never one of his strong suits, which made Harry exceedingly grateful for Hermione's well-attuned bullshitting skills.

But Hermione wasn't around to save him this time. She was probably in a corner of the Hufflepuff common room nursing a Firewhiskey like she enjoyed it and pretending that everyone around her was childish and asinine, but secretly wishing that she had the courage to just go and grind with Ron on the dance floor. Yep, that sounded just about right.

Harry gripped the handle of his broom tightly in his sweaty hands and spent a few moments studying his reflection (or lack thereof) in the mirror over the Gryffindor fireplace. He pulled at the bottom of his invisibility cloak once more, just to be sure that his stockinged feet would be concealed as he walked and the broom didn't cause a shimmery bulge in the fabric.

With a determined exhale of breath, Harry opened the portrait hole and stepped into the darkened corridor confidently…

XXX

Where all that aforementioned confidence went once Harry was in sight of the Room of Requirement, he didn't know, but he missed it sorely.

He tapped his fingers on the broom handle nervously and slowed his pace, trying to find new and previously unexplored reasons as to why what he was doing was wrong, morally and anatomically.

How was he supposed to know what time Pansy and Malfoy were meeting? It was just naïve intuition that told him midnight was correct. He'd never had any past experience that would support his theory that sex was better at twelve o'clock than it was at one, or even two, and three was the witching hour…

What if he got caught loitering in the corridor by a professor, or more importantly, by Malfoy? What if Pansy didn't show up? Or what if she and Malfoy were already inside? What if the potion wore off before he could enact his plan? What if it wore off while he was in the process of... enacting? What if his plan backfired completely? What if he pulled it off and it turned out he wasn't gay? What if it turned out he was?

And perhaps the most important question of all: What did it feel like to be a girl? He felt entitled to know what he was getting into, seeing as he was already wearing the skirt and all. Harry shuddered to think that this would be his first sexual experience and he wasn't even going into it with the correct equipment.

Harry stopped just outside the door and listened intently at its wooden surface, but, of course, he couldn't hear anything because he didn't know exactly what he should be listening for. The Room was finicky like that.

He had just begun to admonish himself for his rash behaviour and had all but turned around and gone straight back to the Gryffindor tower when he heard the shuffling of someone's feet on the stairs and a hollow thunk coupled with a muffled curse as whomever was sneaking around in the dark stubbed his or her toe on a stair.

Harry's heart sped with adrenaline as Pansy-who else was so ungraceful?- approached him, her hands out and sweeping the immediate area before her. His stomach gave a sick lurch as her fingers inadvertently brushed against his crotch.

"Lumos!" she whispered with an exasperated sigh, the end of her wand igniting just inches from Harry's face and causing the Gryffindor to take a step backwards into the wall and the tapestry behind him. Pansy eyed the swinging adornment with suspicion, but did nothing more than that.

With a toss of her hair, she turned and proceeded to pace back and forth before the door to the Room of Requirement, excitedly mumbling, "I need a place to be alone with Draco," under her breath.

It's now or never, Harry thought as he threw the invisibility cloak from him in a grand sweep while blindly swinging his broom at Pansy's head as hard as he could, praying he'd make contact.

The handle smacked her soundly on the temple and she fell to her knees before sinking to the carpet like a breaching whale into the ocean.

Chest heaving as if he'd just run a circuit of the Quidditch pitch, Harry stood directly over her, brandishing his broom just in case she decided to move. She didn't.

Harry felt silly straddling her prone body like that whist wearing a skirt, so he moved to one side of her, placing his broom on the floor. He took both her wrists in his hands and pulled hard, sliding her across the carpet with extensive difficulty to the other end of the corridor where, luckily, there was a wooden chest that would suit her perfectly.

After hoisting Pansy's body into the chest and seriously rethinking the whole skirt business, Harry hurried back to his abandoned broom and, after a few moment's consideration, decided to stow it in the trunk along with the unconscious Pansy Parkinson and his glasses, after muttering a quick temporary vision charm, of course.

With all that done, Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew the Polyjuice Potion, now a lovely slime green colour since the addition of Pansy's hair, and uncorked the bottle. He sniffed at its contents. Wet dog.

Pinching his nose shut with his thumb and forefinger, Harry downed the potion in one swallow, trying to ignore the milky feeling of Essence-of-Pansy running down his throat. He smacked his lips and grimaced at the bottle before corking it and returning it to his pocket.

First, there was the tingling. Harry had been expecting that. And then came the concurrent lengthening and shortening of his body. He grew shorter, but his torso became longer and fuller and his hips rounder beneath Hermione's skirt.

His hands flew eagerly to his new chest. Where Ginny's sweater had once hung limply on his frame, it was now filled to bursting with boobs. Harry gave them a curious squeeze and was alarmed to find them somewhat sensitive. He rubbed his now-hard nipples crossly, reluctant to check on the other parts of his new anatomy.

The tingling stopped almost as abruptly as it had started and the change was complete. Harry wished he had a mirror, but knew time was short. The Polyjuice Potion was only effective for an hour or so. Sex couldn't possibly take longer than that, Harry reasoned. He could only hope that Pansy remained unconscious during that time.

Harry then continued what Pansy had started.

"I need a place to be alone with Draco," he said with her voice, the normality of it surprising him somewhat. So the ditz business was just an act. Wait until he told Hermione…

Harry cleared his throat with a feminine cough. "I need a place to be alone with Draco…" He concentrated on opening the door to find a room lit with millions of floating candles, casting soft shadows on the pale, naked body of Draco Malfoy, who lay on a king-sized bed of red-no, green- satin sheets…

"I need a place to be alone with Draco," he finished somewhat breathlessly, feeling a damp spot grow in his underwear. Stupidly, he wondered if girls had the same trouble as guys concerning premature ejaculation, but was too embarrassed to find out for himself. This was, after all, a borrowed body and looking would be highly impolite.

The door to the Room of Requirement swung open, quelling all his nervous thoughts.

a/n 2: I know, I'm such a bad person for making you wait. Trust me, next week will be worth it! Remember to review! Ta!