AN: While I was struggling for several weeks to write 1000 words for the next chapter of In Another Life, this silly idea popped up in my head and somehow, I just couldn't get rid of it. To finally get some rest again, I quickly wrote 15,000 words in just over a week, and here it is, the new story. 5 chapters, completely written, to be posted every other day.
I hope you enjoy it and it's not too confusing.
It was a peaceful Saturday evening at the Burrow, and Harry Potter sat on a bench in the backyard, the Hogwarts letter on the table in front of him. He'd closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the setting sun. The gentle rustling of leaves from the nearby fruit trees filled the air, and for once, he felt relaxed. After a busy summer holiday with his friends, these quiet moments at the Burrow were precious. Ginny was helping her mother with something and Hermione had gone home to her parents for the weekend. And when Ron had been challenged into a revenge game of chess by Bill, Harry, seizing the opportunity, had found a quiet spot behind the house to enjoy a rare moment of solitude.
But solitude, as it turned out, didn't last long at the Burrow.
"Ah, here you are," Ginny's voice cut through the stillness. She smiled as she plopped down beside him on the bench. "Escaping the madness again?"
"Just soaking in the calm before the storm," Harry replied with a chuckle, scooting over to give her more space. "We don't have to go back to school until next Saturday. Thought I'd enjoy what's left of the peace before school starts again."
"True," Ginny nodded. "But at least no Umbridge this year." She grimaced at the memory. "And hey, we got to see Fred and George. Once they're gone, Hogwarts will feel a bit... quieter. Which, I suppose, is a good thing, right?" She winked at Harry, who laughed.
"Yeah, if by 'quieter' you mean fewer pranks," Harry teased, but his attention was soon drawn toward the back door as it creaked open.
Fred and George emerged, half-concealing a box between them. The glint in their eyes was unmistakable. Mischief was brewing.
"Speak of the devils," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes. "I swear, if they ask us to test another one of their products -"
"Don't worry, sis, this one's perfectly safe!" Fred announced as they approached.
"And fun!" George added with a grin. "We just need to, um, fine-tune it before Monday."
"We're launching it at the shop, you see," Fred explained, placing the box on the table. "Thought you two might help with the last bit of testing. Only a small thing, really."
Ginny crossed her arms. "No thanks. I'm not keen on spending my last free weekend sprouting feathers or puking slugs."
Fred waved her off. "Nothing of the sort! It's a new line for couples: 'Swapped Senses.' You get to -"
"Feel what it's like to be in the other's shoes," George chimed in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Literally. For an hour or two. You drink this" - he held up two small neon-coloured bottles - "and you swap hairstyles. Fun, right?"
Harry blinked. "Wait, we're not a couple," he said quickly, his face reddening slightly.
Fred and George exchanged knowing smirks. "Doesn't matter, mate," Fred said with a wink. "It's just hair."
"Think of it as an - educational experience," George added. "You won't even notice the difference - except for the hair on your head."
Harry shot Ginny a dubious look. She raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to her brothers. "Alright. But only if I get 50% off everything in your shop on Monday. Otherwise, forget it."
Fred grinned, nudging George. "Deal," he said he said before pulling the cork off one of the bottles and handing it to Ginny. "But remember - don't tell Ron."
Harry groaned but accepted a bottle. "Alright, fine. For Ginny's sake."
Pulling the cork, he sniffed the bottle cautiously, wrinkling his nose. "This smells... weird. Flowery, like your shampoo, Ginny?" he asked, glancing at her.
George gave him an odd look, reassuring him, "No, that can't be. It smells more like spiced cinnamon. But that's only been the case after we added..."
"Don't give away the recipe, brother of mine," his brother warned him.
Ginny sniffed her own bottle and gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's not cinnamon. It smells a bit like Treacle Tart."
Harry raised his eyebrows. Giving the twins an uncertain look, he warily licked the cork. "But it tastes like strawberries."
"It's just the added flavour," George said nonchalantly. "Helps the potion go down smoother. Now drink up!"
With a sceptical glance at each other, Harry and Ginny took the plunge. They downed the first half, swapped bottles, and drank the rest. For a moment, nothing happened. They sat there, staring at each other expectantly.
"Well?" Ginny finally asked. "Shouldn't something be happening by now?"
Fred scratched his head. "Odd. Should've felt something by now - like a little scalp tingle."
Harry touched his head nervously. "What kind of tingle?"
"Nothing to worry about!" George said quickly, but he shot Fred a confused glance. "Though... it might need a minute."
After a few more moments of silence, Harry sighed. "So...nothing? Are you sure this isn't just pumpkin juice, dyed neon?"
Fred looked mildly offended. "Of course not. We just might've... under-calibrated this batch."
"Under-calibrated?" Ginny repeated suspiciously. "You mean this stuff doesn't even work?"
George tried to cover his embarrassment. "It worked last time! We must've - uh - skipped a step in this batch."
Fred waved his hand dismissively. "No matter! We'll fix it in time for Monday. Or we'll take the stronger batch we still have in the storage room. But hey, Ginny, deal's still on - 50% off!"
Ginny shook her head, laughing. "Better be."
As the twins wandered off, muttering about the potency of Bicorn Horn, Harry leaned back on the bench, chuckling. "Well, that was a bust."
Ginny sighed, leaning back too. "At least we didn't end up with troll hair."
"True," Harry agreed, smiling. Then, after a pause, he added, "But... I wouldn't mind seeing you with my hair. Just for laughs."
Ginny nudged him playfully. "Not happening, Potter. Not without a good reason, anyway."
Harry grinned. "Fair enough."
Ginny spotted the shiny badge peeking out from his Hogwarts letter and snatched it up with a triumphant grin. "I knew it! Congratulations on being Quidditch Captain," she exclaimed excitedly, holding the badge up to his chest as if measuring it for size. "It looks pretty good on you."
Harry, amused, playfully puffed out his chest as though he were trying to impress her. "I'm not Percy," he teased. "I doubt I'll be walking around with this thing pinned on all the time. Everyone who needs to know will know I'm their captain."
"Then I guess I'll have to address you as 'Captain Potter' from now on, just so no one forgets," Ginny chuckled, her eyes sparkling.
Harry raised an eyebrow, giving her a mock-serious look. "If I were you, I wouldn't let my chance of making the team slip away, Weasley."
Ginny's smile turned mischievous as she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping playfully. "If I were you, I'd be thinking about that Quidditch cup. And let's be honest - you need me on that pitch if you want to win it."
Harry found himself grinning wider than he'd intended. Something about the way she said it - half-joking, half-serious - made his heart skip just a beat. He wasn't sure when things had shifted between them, but lately, these little moments with Ginny felt… well, different.
But before he could dwell on it, Ginny pinned the badge to his shirt with a flourish. "There. Now you look the part," she said, patting it lightly. "You may not be Percy, but you're going to have to live up to this now, Potter."
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the garden, Harry and Ginny fell into a comfortable silence. The hum of evening crickets began to fill the air as Ginny stretched and stood up from the bench.
"I suppose I should head inside before Mum starts wondering where I've disappeared to," Ginny said, smiling down at him. "Besides, we both need our rest for the last week of freedom."
Harry nodded, getting up too. "Yeah, I'm sure Ron's probably looking for me to play another game of chess. But after what Bill did to him earlier, I don't think I have the heart to tell him I'm not in the mood."
Ginny chuckled, shaking her head. "You're such a good friend, Harry." She smirked, but there was warmth behind her words.
They walked back to the house together, Ginny nudging Harry's arm playfully as they stepped inside. "Don't let the Quidditch Captain thing go to your head, okay? Just because you've got a badge now doesn't mean I won't hex you if you get too cocky."
Harry grinned, rolling his eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it."
As they parted ways at the bottom of the stairs, Ginny called back over her shoulder, "Sweet dreams, Captain Potter. Maybe you'll wake up tomorrow with a hairstyle as nice as mine!"
Harry snorted and waved her off. "In your dreams."
But little did he know just how close her joke was to the truth.
The urgent need to use to loo woke Harry in the middle of the night. Yawning, he pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and paused. Something was wrong. Where did all this hair come from? Blinking groggily, he sat up and tried to orient himself in the dim light. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table - only to frown when his hand grasped thin air. Where were his glasses? Stranger still, he could see perfectly fine without them.
Confusion gnawed at him as he looked around and found out that he wasn't in Ron's bedroom either. Hermione's camping bed was on the opposite wall. Without Hermione in it, she was home for the weekend. And that had to be Ginny's wardrobe... How did he get into Ginny's room?
His eyes bulged. He was in Ginny's bed.
Panicked, he glanced down at himself. These were not the pyjamas he'd put on last night and... a lot more hair. Long, red hair.
"Damn," he muttered with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Had the twins' potion worked after all?
But first things first - he really had to use the loo, his bladder insisted.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and hurried to the hallway. The bathroom door, mercifully, was right across from Ginny's room, just like always.
Harry shook his head. Was he dreaming? He pushed the door open and flicked on the light. As he moved toward the toilet, his reflection in the mirror caught his eye, freezing him in place.
Ginny. Ginny's face was staring back at him, wide-eyed and bewildered.
It slowly dawned on Harry that things were really going wrong here. Hesitantly, he looked down at himself again. Ginny's pyjamas. Ginny's hair. Ginny's body. And he had to pee.
The realization that he wouldn't find what he was used to in these pyjamas hit him like a sledgehammer.
How...How could he... Oh. Fred, George. If I ever see you two again...
But somehow he had to... he just couldn't wet Ginny's pants, could he? With a deep breath and his eyes fixed resolutely on the wall ahead of him, Harry tugged down the waistband of his pyjama pants, sat down on the toilet, and - to his immense relief - everything worked. Well, mostly.
He finished quickly, yanked his pants back up, and scrubbed his hands at the sink, trying not to catch sight of his reflection again.
His mind raced. What about Ginny? If he was stuck here inside her body, where was she? She had to be... He groaned and his eyes widened in horror. If Ginny had to use the loo, she would... Oh, no! Harry didn't dare think the thought any further.
He needed to talk to her, immediately.
Harry turned on his heel and started toward Ron's room, but then he hesitated. There was no way he could have that conversation with Ginny while Ron was snoring in the bed next to her. No chance.
Instead, he trudged down to the living room and sat down on the couch, heart thumping wildly. He glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was only half past two in the morning. How long would it take Ginny to realize something had gone terribly wrong? He usually woke up at five to use the loo - surely Ginny would figure things out by then.
For now, all Harry could do was wait... and try not to think too hard about the situation he was in.