Chapter Three: The Change

I awoke at four the next morning. A buzzing was going off beside my head. My hand groped around until I found the source of the incessant buzzing. I tried to turn it off, but it didn't work. I looked at it more closely and finally found the off button. I yawned and stretched; I sat up and looked around as my eyes slowly adjusted. I could hear someone snoring to my left, Alison never snored.

I figured it was because she was getting sick. People do get sick. I walked around to my trunk, but hit something in the way. I stifled a cry of pain and bit my lip. I found my wand and lit up my room. Only it wasn't my room. There were boys in the beds.

I let out a gasp of horror. Had I slept with Oliver? I clearly remembered going to my room after we left the Common Room. Had I walked in my sleep into his room? Was that even possible?

I quickly and quietly walked out of the room and headed up the staircase to the girls' dormitories, where I belonged. I hadn't gotten a step further before the stairs flattened underneath me and sent me flying down the stair case. I flew down into the Common Room and found several people waiting there, all dressed in their Quidditch uniforms.

The Weasley twins began laughing at me, "Oi! Oliver, haven't you learned that we can't go up the stairs yet, mate?"

"Believe me, we've tried to get up there for years, hasn't worked yet, has it, Fred?" The twin on the left said.

"That's right, George," Fred said.

"Are you going to play in your pajamas or get dressed and go down to the pitch?" Angelina asked.

"I'll meet you down there in a couple minutes. Just a late night," I said in a husky voice.

"Alright mate," George said, winking at me.

This couldn't possibly be happening! I had somehow become Oliver over night. There had to be a way to fix this.

I hurried up the stairs and ran into a slender figure. I caught her arms to keep her from falling. After realizing it was my body I held in my hands, I let out a cry of relief.

"Oh Oliver. Thank Merlin! What are we going to do?" I asked, my eyes welling up with tears.

"For one, you've got to pull yourself together. I can't go around bawling like a girl," Oliver scolded.

"Excuse me? If you haven't already noticed, I'm a girl. In your blooming body!" I shouted.

"Ok. Calm down. We'll sort this out. Oh fuck! I have Quidditch practice!" Oliver groaned.

"Yea, I know. They've gone down to the pitch." I said.

"Well you can't play. Well, my body can, but not with you using it," Oliver mused.

"Thanks Oliver. That's really helping this situation." I glowered at him.

"I have to cancel practice. Rather, you've got to cancel practice," he said, scratching my jaw.

"Don't you dare ruin my body! I swear if you harm on hair on my head I'll put a curse on you, not even your mother could take off." I warned in a stern, booming voice.

"Just go tell them practice is off due to a cold. After you change. You can't go running around without a shirt." He said.

"Are you kidding me? Can't you wear normal clothes to bed?" I shouted.

"Well I'm not enjoying the frill either. You do have a nice body though, hard to tell under

all those layers you wear." He smirked.

"How dare you! Don't you dare look at my body, you perve!" I shouted in an all too manly voice.

He smirked at me and strutted up the stair case.

I wanted to scream at him. I walked up the stairs and into the boys' dormitory, which had a musty odor that wasn't too pleasant. I tried to find some clean clothes, and upon not finding any, put on clothes that looked better than the others.

Against my will, I caught myself itching my stomach. I felt the washboard abs under the shirt and then shuddered. If I was able to touch his body, then he ultimately would be touching my body. And my body is definitely private property and should be off limits. I would have to make a note of it to make a rule against body touching.

I ran out to the pitch, enjoying the feel of athletic legs pushing me forward. I got up to the group that was waiting around, chatting.

"Oliver, hey mate. Who were you with last night?" George asked.

"I'll bet she was very nice, if you get what I mean," Fred commented.

"Er... yea. I've got to cancel practice today. I'm not really feeling up to flying around. So... sorry to get you up so early," I said, hoping they wouldn't be angry with me.

"Sure. Enjoy your time with her, mate. Any girl who keeps you from the pitch has got to be special." Fred winked at me and George punched my shoulder. I smiled at them and then walked with them back to the Common Room.

I saw my body sitting by the fire and walked over to it. I didn't know what I was wearing, I surely had never owned a tank top in my life. At least not that I knew of.

I sat on the couch next to Oliver's chair and waited for him to speak.

"I suspect things went nicely?" He asked, laughing.

"Sure." I waited until everyone left before adding, "What in bloody hell am I wearing? I look like a prostitute!" I shouted.

"I think your body looks very nice. How the hell am I supposed to know what girls wear?" He snickered.

"I think we need to set some ground rules. There is no body touching. You can not touch my body, ever!" I said in an even tone.

"No guarantees," he smiled.

"If I didn't love my body so much, I'd wring your neck. That is my body and you will treat it like a temple, do you understand? Nothing touches it that could cause harm, no boys or girls will touch it. You can't even touch it."

"Too late. I had to get dressed somehow."

"You're impossible. I'm going to fix this. And you are going to be good to my body. In return, I'll get this solved by the match on Friday."

"Take your time, I'll be here." He said as he stood up and walked away.

~*~

It took me until twelve to track down Sally. If I could trust anyone to help me solve this, it was her. She'd, hopefully, know what to do.

"Sally!" I called to her. Her head turned around and she looked around her. I waved at her and she gave me a quick glance and turned around quickly.

I walked up to her and sat down beside her. "Sally, I really need your help."

"I'm sure you need lots of help. But none that involve you humiliating me." She said shortly.

"Sal, it's me, Leah. A potion went really wrong, I need your help," I pleaded with her.

"Then tell me something only Leah would know." Sally folded her arms across her chest and waited.

"Um... you were born to a witch mother and a muggle father, your mother left your father when you were two and took you with her. But she got deathly ill and you were sent back to your father when you were six. He had cancer and died when you were ten. You've been living with your mother's parents ever since." I said expertly. She hadn't even shared that with me until last June.

"Leah, are you seriously in there?" She asked, her eyes widened with shock.

"I wish it weren't so. You've got to help me. I don't like being a bloke. They smell," I said, my eyes tearing up.

Sally laughed and hugged me. "It'll be ok. We can go to McGonagall. Maybe she'll have something to fix it."