Chapter 3
Draco waited until the last minute to act. He'd been poised in the entrance hall with his belongings packed into a nondescript trunk beside him for hours. He had passed the time reading Which Broom and Recent Advances in Potion-making, and he was just about to move onto his new Arithmancy textbook when he heard the floo flare up in the adjacent drawing room.
Making sure he was still fully hidden by the marble column he was standing behind, he listened carefully as his parents murmuring conversation and quiet footsteps moved out from the drawing room and up the carpeted stairs. He knew they would probably have a light breakfast before they called for him, but he planned to be gone long before that.
When silence reigned again, Draco pulled his hood over his face just in case and pulled his trunk into the drawing room and got ready to floo out of his family home for what could easily be the last time. He took a moment to glance around the drawing room, his eyes resting on the piano for a moment, before scattering floo powder on the flames and stepping in.
He took a breath.
'The Leaky Cauldron."
The walk to King's Cross was uneventful, but Draco was still jumpy. He looked around nervously as he crossed the road, then remembered he had a famous face, and pulled his hood down, keeping his eyes on his feet.
A moment later he remembered he was wearing robes and muggles would be staring at a cloaked and hooded figure even more than one only cloaked, so he pulled his hood down again.
His hands were shaking as he approached the barrier between platform nine and ten. The platform would be almost empty, there was still an hour to go before the train left. If he was noticed now he would have no chance of getting away inconspicuously by hiding in the crowd.
He felt sick with nerves. He didn't know why he was doing this to himself. He was Harry Potter, there was a madman after him. He didn't need to complete his education, didn't need to see Potter. He needed to leave the country post-haste and go on the run.
He stepped through the barrier.
As he had predicted, the platform was almost empty. He didn't stop to look at the people there, but walked briskly to an out-of-the-way bench, pulling his trunk behind him and settled there where he could inconspicuously monitor the people coming through the barrier and turn his face away to hide if it was anyone who knew Potter too well. It was going to be a long wait considering he'd just spent the last three hours in boredom in the drawing room for his mother and father to come home.
He passed time by adjusting the strength of his glasses. His vision had been the last thing to go, and while he fully intended to visit a healer and have his vision seen to, in the mean time he'd went digging around in his father's study for his great grandfather Hyperion's reading glasses which he'd eventually found, after searching through six sets of drawers and a biting cabinet, sitting on full view inside a glass display cabinet by the door. Well accustomed to breaking into parts of the manor that were supposed to be barred to him, it had only taken a few minutes to cast a sensing spell for interference hexes and pick the lock with one of his mothers hat pins . That trick had been one he'd taught to himself at an unpleasant price. He remembered picking up a book on handy muggle-derived skills out of a bargain bin whilst out shopping with his father. He'd paid for the book with his pocket money. He'd been saving up, because he'd found a hidden passage behind a grandfather clock in the west wing of the manor by tapping for hollow points in the walls, and he had no idea how to get in by magical means, but this book had promised an entire chapter on breaking and entering. He'd only just settled down in the library with the book on his knee when his father found him and asked what he'd been reading.
Even then Draco had know he would be in deep trouble, but he wasn't stupid enough to attempt to lie to his father, so he'd airily said 'Oh just something I bought earlier today', but Lucius wanted to see the cover. That was the first time Draco found out about the Cruciatus curse, because, as Lucius told him, he was too old for stinging hexes and he should know better than to bring such filth into the house.
Back to the more recent past, after picking the lock on the cabinet door, Draco had taken only six attempts to bypass the hexes on the cabinet and finally secured the spindly silver rimmed glasses that now graced his less-than-worthy half-blood face.
Apart from all the more mundane curiosities about Potter's body he had discovered in the previous weeks, the most annoying was that his eyesight without glasses was barely better than being blind. How Potter didn't walk around banging into walls and doors, even with his glasses was anyone's guess. Great-uncle Hyperion's glasses weren't strong enough, but he'd been fiddling with the adjustment charm on them for some time and he thought he had it about right, though such thick lenses on such elegant frames didn't look at all right.
As the first group of students began to arrive, Draco noted dully they were only muggleborn first years and started thinking about his trunk. He wished he could have brought it; it had six compartments, all magically expanding, and one was large enough for him to fit in, albeit lying down flat with his arms pinned by his side. It was really supposed to be for his broom but he thought it useful if he ever had a dead body to hide. There was no chance of that with the plain trunk he'd brought with him. He couldn't bring his own trunk when he looked like Potter, it would look awfully suspicious if anyone saw him, so he'd filched this one from the attic. It only had two compartments, so he'd had to leave most of his possessions behind but it was the only one that wasn't falling to pieces.
He ran his fingers through his hair, and closed his eyes in despair as his fingers met the unusually harsh-feeling brush of thick, black tufts.
He'd tried conditioning potion, Sleakeazies, straightening charms and even his mother's expensive French serum, but it had just looked worse and worse until he concluded that Potter's hair in it's natural state was the best he could do. Draco had given up the idea he could slick back his hair in it's usual manner the moment his hair had started tufting up in the mornings, but he was too afraid to visit his usual hair stylist because of his new face. The texture of Potter's hair and his own sleek, long hair style was a recipe for a disaster, so wincing, he'd called Dippy to give him a hair cut.
Well house elves are not hair stylists for a reason, and when Dippy had finished with him, Draco had no choice but to use a shearing charm to cut every last strand off. Once all his hair was the same length (approximately two millimetres long - not a look that suited Potter), he'd used a hair growing charm to get it a few centimeters longer. The result was acceptable, even better than Potter's usual standards, but Draco's self esteem was at a new low.
Lost in his thoughts, Draco didn't noticed who had arrived in the flow of students through the barrier. By chance, he happened to look up at the same moment the other person did.
For a moment he stared at his face across the crowd, taking in how Potter had managed to make Draco's hair look good in a messy hedgehog style mop, and less happily that he had dressed his body in ill-fitting muggle clothes.
Then Draco's stomach churned as he remembered with a jolt that Potter had taken from him his parents, his money, his name, his Nimbus 2001, and everything else including his identity. Across the platform he could see Potter's eyes harden, and Draco stood up, anger building at how Potter had the audacity to glare at him after everything he had done.
Draco saw someone wave to him, and for a moment his glaring contest with the other Draco abated as he locked eyes with the ginger She-Weasel, emerging with her family from the barrier and she faltered at his sneer. Then he locked eyes with Potter again and all in one instant, every feeling of anger, resentment, fear, and despair he had felt over the summer holidays came flooding into him as Potter dropped his trunk and rushed at him, fury blazing in his eyes.
Draco sprang to his feet, baring his teeth and forgot everything apart from the rage and threw himself at Potter, fists first.
They collapsed in a ball on the platform as screams erupted and Draco was dazed as his head collided with the ground. Potter removed his fist from Draco's gut to land it on his face, but he managed to dodge out the way before it flattened his face into a bloody pulp. He grabbed Potter's arms and tried to restrain him, but only received a knee to the crotch for his troubles. He'd just gotten a solid grip on Potter's throat and had only just started squeezing when he felt hands clutching at his body, pulling him away from Harry Potter who was using his eyes to give him the Malfoy Ice-Glare of Fury.
"Harry are you okay?" the mudblood said in his ear, and Draco whipped around. The Weasel family was falling over themselves to help him off the ground; the Weaslette had tears running down her face.
He laughed wildly, causing expressions of alarm all around, and turned to see what Potter was doing.
If there was ever a photograph Draco would treasure until the end of his days, it would have depicted the scene in front of him.
It seemed his mother and father had finally deigned to notice his disappearance from the manor and had deduced that he had made his own way to the platform. Narcissa's cheeks were tainted with a delicate blush, yet she maintained her rigid posture as she watched her husband wrangle Harry Potter into a standing position. Potter pushed back his blond hair with a hand as he shoved Lucius away from him, giving him a fierce glare. He hissed something at Lucius, and Draco thought his own face was going to split from grinning so hard as he saw Lucius's lips move in a very familiar sequence.
"Malfoys do not-" he saw the lips say, and finished the sentence in his head as Lucius turned away slightly "-brawl in public".
There was then a dangerous moment when Narcissa seemed to notice that Potter had dressed her son's body in muggle clothing, and her eyes widened, but at that point, Potter threw Lucius another barbed comment as he shook him off again, along with a vicious sneer and, grabbing his trunk, boarded the train.
"Looks like trouble in paradise." he heard Ron Weasley say beside him, and starting, he realised he had to shake off his entourage too. For a moment he considered appropriate words to do so, but in the end he simply imitated Potter by grabbing his trunk and storming off. Explanations could come later.
When Malfoy entered his compartment, Harry didn't know what to say. He'd thought he'd feel better after attempting to beat the living daylights out of his body thief, but after seeing Draco interacting rather cruelly and dismissively with his friends only felt miserable, confused, and frankly terrified of what was to come.
Malfoy looked sweaty and dishevelled, and he glanced behind himself with an air of panic as he addressed Harry, who watched his own lips talking to him with a sense of surreal-ness.
"Pansy and Blaise are coming," Malfoy whispered frantically at him, pushing his shock of black hair out of his eyes "you need to do exactly as I say."
"What?" Harry said, sitting up straight, thinking Shit…I have to deal with being Malfoy already!
"Look at them as if you can't be bothered talking to them, and sort of wave them off." Malfoy said, closing his eyes as if trying to clear his head "Just - dismiss them. If you can't manage that," he finished, opening his eyes "just say 'Go find a compartment, we'll talk later'. Clear?"
"Uh-" Harry began, then started as the compartment door flew open.
"What's he doing here?" Zabini said with an air of disgust, pushing past Malfoy.
"I missed you Drakie!" Pansy squealed, also trying to push past Malfoy to get to him.
Harry searched wildly for the right words as Draco sent him a pointed look.
"Um. I'll see you guys later." he said, trying to sound commanding. He looked them each in the eye, and meeting only uncertain confusion, and utter incredularity from Malfoy, he dropped his eyes and told the ground. "Go find a compartment, would you."
There was a moment of silence, then a "Er. Sure." from Zabini.
"You IDIOT Potter!" Malfoy exploded into a hissed diatribe as the compartment door snicked shut "I told you to dismiss them-" he began talking in a normal volume once Pansy and Blaise had moved away from the door "-you weren't supposed to make it sound like you had a juicy secret!"
"Shut up!" Harry said hotly "I didn't know, alright, I'm still getting used to -"
He fell silent as the compartment door opened again and winced as Ron came into view and shot him a cold glare. Hermione followed him, but her eyes only passed over Harry briefly, immediately focusing on Malfoy.
"Harry?" she touched his arm concernedly "What are you doing? Don't bother with him, he's not worth it."
"No he's not," Ron agreed, shooting Harry another dirty look "we've found a compartment, are you coming."
"I'll see you later." Malfoy said dismissively, and Hermione looked hurt
"But Harry-"
"We can talk later." Malfoy said, turning and giving her a strained smile "I'm talking to P - Malfoy. I'm talking to Malfoy." he said again, looking suddenly stricken.
"Are you alright mate?" Ron said, exchanging a worried look with Hermione. "Come on, lets -"
"I'm fine." Malfoy told him, shaking Ron's hand off his shoulder "Look, just give me some space, I need to sort things out with - him."
Harry watched smugly as Malfoy struggled to get rid of his friends using awkward grimaces that could barely be described as smiles, and which were not even close to reassuring.
"Bye now." Draco said, his voice constrained as he half pushed Hermione out into the corridor.
"You were saying?" Harry said airily as Draco turned around.
"Don't." Malfoy said, taking a seat opposite him, before turning to look at him. "We need to decide what the hell we're going to do."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe if you'd bothered to come and see me this summer we wouldn't have to do this."
Draco's expression grew incredulous. "Me come to see you? How the hell was I supposed to get through whatever's protecting the Boy Who Refused to Die - or should I say, the Boy who Pretended to -"
"Shut your mouth!" Harry spat, rising to the bait "I didn't know anymore than you -"
"Right, whatever!" Draco said, waving him away "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you are going to be sleeping in Slytherin tonight, and surrounded by people who know me, and you can't seem to act to save yourself."
"You're one to talk-"
"At least I made an decent effort!"
For a moment they glared at each other again, then Harry slumped into his seat.
"So I take it you've already decided you want to pretend to be each other." he said dully.
"What choice do we have?" Draco demanded "Do you think my parents will be fine with me living with them when I look like Harry Potter? And what about when they realise that I apparently am the real Harry Potter? I don't think you know it, but from what I've been hearing over the last year, my father's been getting mixed up in some kind of business which involved assassinating you - I mean me, and I don't want to have to live with him if -"
"Hold up!" Harry interrupted "Your father is-"
"You heard me," Draco shot back, green eyes glinting determinedly "I'm on the run for my life, and I'm going to act your part even if you won't act mine!"
"You don't have to threaten me!" Harry said heatedly
"Don't I?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow
"No." Harry said, his voice small. "I don't know what I want to tell people in the long run but for now I can't face telling - certain people."
There was a moment of hesitation, then Draco said haltingly. "At - at least you seem to think you have someone who won't throw you out on your ear - at best."
Harry stared at his feet.
"Look." Draco said finally, wishing Potter would man up and stop making his body look so pathetic "You need to tell me how to act like you."
Harry closed his eyes. "We really could have done with some time to practice."
"Yes, well we don't." Draco snapped. "And we don't have time to talk about anything else yet either, so just focus on telling me how to handle your friends, your housemates, and the headmaster and I'll be fine."
Harry hesitated for a moment. "I don't know what to tell you. Just be polite. Friendly. And Dumbledore - well just be respectful I suppose-"
"Oh for Melin's sake!" Draco snapped "Let me go first then. Pay attention!"
Harry pushed down his anger watched Malfoy begin to pace the compartment.
"Don't talk about your feelings to my friends. Don't be overly friendly. Think of them as political allies - treat them well, but don't trust them too much or get close to them. If they ask you something, or put you in a situation you're not sure of, just brush them off, tell them they're boring you, or you want them to leave, or you want to be alone."
"You speak to your friends like that?" Harry said incredulously
"When I'm in a bad mood," Draco replied "which is what you'll have to pretend to be in until you get a feel for how things work. If you're pressed, and only if you absolutely have to, tell them that your father gave you a hard time this summer."
"Did he?" Harry said curiously
"No, he was out of the country for most of it." Draco replied, then frowned "Which reminds me, we need to swap information about each other's pasts at some point soon. It won't look good if someone brings up something we've done and we don't know what they're talking about."
"Right." Harry said dully "Great. So what about the other Slytherins."
"Beneath your notice." Draco said "But be careful, the older Slytherins will leave you alone, but if you act too different from normal, they'll think you're weakening and they'll try to take over your spot."
"My spot?"
"My place of power in Slytherin. They don't push me around because I've spent the last three years asserting my strength in the house. They know I give as good as I get, but if you show them weakness, they'll try to take back the power. Ignore them at all times, but if students younger than you give them cheek, it's expected that you'll put them into their place. Show the older ones a cold respect if you have to talk to them, or interact with them."
"Fine. Right." Harry said, beginning to worry that he wouldn't be able to pull this off at all.
"Are you sure that all you want to tell me about your house is to be friendly and polite?" Draco asked scathingly
"Well." Harry thought hard "It's pretty much the truth. I don't dismiss people like you do, or sneer at them, or be rude to them. If anyone makes comments about - you know, me being famous, don't preen. I don't like it. I hate being put in the spotlight."
Draco curled his lip. "Right. And Granger and Weasley?"
"Ron's good at chess. If you ever play him, make sure you lose. I always lose." Harry said sadly. He'd never lose to Ron again.
"Is that all?"
"No - I - I just thought that details like that were important!" Harry said angrily
"Sorry. They are." Malfoy ducked his head, then looked up and gave Harry a nasty smirk "Just so you know, Blaise is gay. There's a detail for you. Don't undress in front of him, he pervs."
"Um." Harry couldn't think of a reply to that. After a pause, he continued awkwardly "Also, Ron takes it badly if you spend a lot of money on him, or imply he's poor. He's touchy about money."
"Hardly surprising," Draco commented "anything else?"
"Well, Hermione will probably notice something's different about me. You need to be really careful around her. I mean it. You'll have to have a lie ready, to throw her off." Harry added thoughtfully.
"Do you know, I think I know something that'll work already." Draco said slowly
"What?" Harry asked tentatively
"Does Granger fancy you?"
"What?"
"Does she? Will she get flustered if I flirt with her or something? Or if I spread rumours that I like her?"
"I - " Harry tried to think, feeling flustered himself "I don't know. I don't think so. I don't think she thinks of me that way."
"I'll think of something." Draco said determinedly "Anyway, back to me then. You should probably know that Professor Snape is my godfather."
"What?" Harry said weakly
"He'll invite you to his office a few times each term, usually he does it once at the beginning of term, but we'll work out what to do about that another time. The point is, if he asks you to visit him, act pleased. Oh, and also, when we're alone, you need to remember to call him Sev, or Severus."
"What?"
"He pretends to hate it," Draco continued "but it's a routine we have. I call him Sev, he threatens to disembowel me, and I make a witty comeback. Get it."
"Not really." Harry felt ill
"Look, you probably won't have to deal with him for a few days at least. Just keep it in mind."
Harry made a noise of assent, but was beginning to feel ill.
"You don't really have to worry about other teachers. I show respect to Flitwick and Sinistra mostly, but McGonagall and Sprout - you must have seen what I do?"
"Talk in class, laugh at them behind their backs." Harry supplied
"Exactly. And Hagrid - don't hold back on him," Malfoy said seriously "I know you like him, but we need to keep up appearances."
"Then you'll have to be friendly to Hagrid." Harry said firmly, ignoring Malfoy's horrified expression "And I'm polite to all the teachers, so remember that too. And if Dumbledore talks to you, be friendly, but still formal."
"You don't call him uncle Albus or anything do you?" Draco said distastefully
"No. Only 'sir', or 'professor', and 'Dumbledore' when I'm with Ron and Hermione."
"Got it." Draco said. "Now," he said apprehensively "we should swap trunks and get back to our - each others' - friends. And you can't walk around in my body with those clothes." he added, eyeing Dudley's old jeans reproachfully.
Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters, they belong to JK Rowling. I am not making any profit from this fic, it's purely for fun.