AN: Seems like I'm a little too impatient to wait until tomorrow to post after having so much fun writing this story.
The sensation of something hard pressing against her stomach stirred Ginny from sleep. Blinking groggily, she felt the familiar pressure in her bladder urging her toward the bathroom, as it did every night. She instinctively reached across the mattress, trying to remove the nuisance pressing into her, but her hand grasped nothing but empty sheets. Frowning, she raised her head and instantly noticed two things: there was an odd throbbing sensation intensifying the need to pee, and the sound of steady snoring filled the room.
Hermione didn't snore. And besides, Hermione had gone home for the weekend. Why was everything so blurry? And why did the little she could see seem so… wrong? This wasn't her room. But the snoring was unmistakable. Ron? She carefully slid out of bed, her confusion growing. What on earth was she doing in Ron's room? And more importantly, how had she ended up in Harry's bed?
A sudden, disturbing thought made her freeze. Her hand drifted lower to scratch at the unfamiliar throbbing, and she froze once more. There was something - something strange - between her legs. Though a layer of fabric separated them, the brief touch sent a weird sensation through her that made her gasp.
No way.
But she didn't have time to dwell on it. The pressure in her bladder was becoming unbearable. She needed to go to the loo now - and she needed to do it without waking Ron.
As she quietly tiptoed out of the room, Ginny let out a frustrated groan. Of course. The bathroom was on the next floor down. She wasn't in her own bed; she was in Ron's room, so of course, she'd have to navigate the house in the dark – with that damn blurry view.
In the dim light, she made her way down the stairs, carefully feeling along the walls for guidance until she reached the bathroom. She slipped inside and quickly locked the door behind her before flicking on the light.
Ginny blinked at her reflection in the mirror, her heart racing. What she expected was to see herself in Harry's oversized pyjamas. What she hadn't expected was the undeniable bulge in the front of those pyjamas. Groaning, she muttered under her breath, "Merlin, no…"
And then she caught sight of something even more jarring: her reflection - it was blurry as hell, but it wasn't her. Staring back at her from the mirror was Harry, wide-eyed with dishevelled black hair.
Her hands trembled as she hesitated, looking down at herself again, panic rising. How on earth was she supposed to… do this?
After a few deep breaths, Ginny steeled herself. "Alright," she muttered. "I can do this." She gingerly pulled down the pyjama bottoms, giving Harry's reflection in the mirror a glare. "Don't laugh, Potter. It's not funny." After a few awkward moments of figuring out the right position, she decided to do it her usual way and sat down on the toilet - though not without a few muttered curses and a lot of blushing.
Her gaze fixed straight ahead, she waited for something to happen, and "Bloody hell," with a panicked movement she reached down to push - she didn't dare to name it - down so that the stream went into the toilet. Ashamed, she stared straight ahead again, her hand between her legs to make sure the accident wouldn't happen again. When she was confident that she had finished her business, she stood up and hastily pulled the pyjama bottoms back on. Without looking in the mirror, she washed her hands. Reaching for the door handle, she waited until her heart was no longer pounding so loudly that it could be heard throughout the stairwell.
What should she do? Just go back to bed and hope that everything would be alright in the morning?
What would Harry do?
Her eyes widened as the truth hit her: Harry was stuck in her body, too. He had to be just as confused. Maybe... yes, maybe he was down in the living room. He certainly hadn't just gone back to bed. She shook her head. No, if Harry had found out, he hadn't gone back to bed. He'd wait for her. At the place where he usually sat when he couldn't sleep at night.
Ginny took a deep breath to prepare herself, turned off the light and opened the door. It was quiet in the stairwell. She walked silently down the stairs, wondering how Harry could move at all with his blurry vision.
She padded quietly to the living room door, which, fortunately, was open, and peeked inside. There, on the sofa, sat Ginny, her head tilted to the side, fast asleep. The sight of herself sitting there was disconcerting, but she pushed aside the oddity and cautiously moved closer. It had to be Harry sitting there in her body. Gently, she nudged him on the shoulder. He jumped up and stared at her in disbelief.
After an awkward moment of silence, Ginny whispered, "Harry, is that... you in there?"
Harry chuckle sounded almost insane. "Merlin, I hope so. This is..." He trailed off, glancing at Ginny's reflection in the nearby window. "Bloody insane."
Rubbing her temples, Ginny confirmed, "Tell me about it. And don't even ask what I just did...upstairs."
Harry grimaced, "I won't. Trust me."
"It's so strange hearing my voice say your words," Ginny muttered, a hint of discomfort in her tone.
"Yeah, but honestly, that's the least of our worries right now," Harry retorted, looking rather at loss.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, both trying to process the bizarre turn of events. "So," Ginny asked finally, her voice low, "Any bright ideas on how we fix this?"
Harry ran his hand through his hair and cursed irritated as he noticed his mishap and pushed a strand of Ginny's long hair behind his ear instead. "Hopefully it'll wear off soon", he muttered. "Otherwise, we have to call Fred and George. They're the key. But..." He hesitated, "I'm not sure I want to tell them right away. Imagine the uproar when it comes out. Maybe we'll be back in our own skin again in the morning. They said something about an hour or two, didn't they?"
"Yeah." Ginny nodded. "Let's hope it will be over soon. Monday, we are going to Diagon Alley, buying school supplies. I'd rather not go as long as I look like Harry Bloody Potter," Ginny grumbled, and cringed as she remembers that she's supposed to meet Dean there. She had to cancel on him. As quickly as possible. First thing in the morning. Rubbing her eyes, she said disconcerted, "Besides, everything is so blurry. I'm constantly tripping over my own feet. I wonder how you're coping with this."
"Wearing glasses?" Harry snarled, barely suppressing a quiet chuckle.
Ginny huffed, anger grew in her. "If I get my hands on those two, they'll spit slugs."
"Call me if you need a helping hand to keep them to the ground." Harry chuckled.
With a grim expression, Ginny retorted, "Thanks for the offer, Potter, but if anyone's going to handle my crazy brothers, it's going to be me."
"I'd never dare to doubt that," Harry replied with a smirk.
Ginny frowned, eying Harry closely. As far as she could interpret the blurry version of her own facial expression, he seemed to enjoy her anger. "I'm also not fond of the idea that someone finds out what happened, but we can't keep it a secret forever. At some point, I'd like to take a shower again and it might come as a surprise to you, but I'd rather wash my own body than..."
Harry's eyes widened. "Don't say it," he grumbled. "So, what are we doing? Go back to bed and hope everything is back to normal in the morning, or what?"
"Yeah, I don't have a better idea either," Ginny agreed, barely suppressing a yawn. "There's not much we can do in the middle of the night anyway. But woe betide them if they don't show up tomorrow, best with a solution to fix the mess."
On the way upstairs, Harry muttered a, "Goodnight. See you in the morning," as he walked straight past her room, apparently on his way up to Ron's chamber.
Ginny cleared her throat. "I think we'd better sleep in the room where we look like we belong. Only to avoid stupid questions, of course."
"Oh," Harry groaned as he stopped. "Right. Sure thing. And let's hope we wake up in the right room and everything was just a weird dream."
Ginny woke early the next morning, immediately groaning as an unwelcome sensation below her waist made itself known. That strange, tingling presence between her legs had returned - more insistent than before. Her pyjama bottoms felt uncomfortably tight, pressing against something she still wasn't used to. How Harry managed to sleep with that every night was completely beyond her.
Muttering under her breath, she sat up and swung Harry's long legs over the edge of the bed. Her gaze shifted across the room, settling on Ron, who was sprawled out and snoring softly in his own bed. He looked like he'd be out for another hour, at least. It was Sunday, after all. Good, Ginny thought. It was bad enough dealing with Harry's body. She didn't need her brother awake to witness any more of her morning struggles.
The blurry vision reminded her that she needed Harry's glasses. With a small grimace, she slipped them on, wrinkling her nose as she adjusted to the unfamiliar weight on her face. At least now, the world came back into focus.
Standing up carefully, she tugged at the waistband of her pyjama bottoms, shaking her hips awkwardly to make room for the "tormentor" below. With the added space, the discomfort eased slightly, though the entire experience left her feeling thoroughly out of sorts. Great, she thought, just great. And as if this body wasn't bad enough, I still have to pee.
She sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable as she slipped quietly out of the room. On her way to the bathroom, she passed her bedroom door, noticing it was ajar. Curious, she peeked inside. The bed was neatly made, not a wrinkle in sight. Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise. Since when was Harry so tidy? At Hogwarts, his bed usually looked like a war zone. Shaking her head, she continued to the bathroom.
Once inside, she prepared herself for another round of awkward body management. This time, she was at least ready for it, immediately reaching down to make sure things stayed... contained. Merlin, she thought as she relieved herself, I hope this is over soon.
She cast a longing glance at the shower, but quickly dismissed the idea - it wasn't an option right now. Not that she thought she needed permission, but she knew she should at least talk to Harry first. Her eyes suddenly widened as realization hit her - Harry was dealing with the same dilemma. Did he already…? No. He wouldn't, would he? She'd find out soon.
With her hands washed and her courage steeled, Ginny made her way downstairs to the kitchen. As she entered, Harry was already sitting in his usual place at the table. Well, he was sitting in Harry's usual chair and not hers, looking up at her with a nervous smile, clearly feeling just as disoriented as she was.
"Good morning, Harry," her mother greeted her brightly from the stove. "You can keep Ginny company. She's up a little earlier than usual today."
"Morning, Mum... I mean, Mrs Weasley... Sorry," Ginny stammered, quickly correcting herself, feeling Harry's eyes on her as she awkwardly slid into her chair - her chair - and reached for the mug of tea in front of her.
Her mother gave her a curious glance but said nothing as she placed a bowl of porridge on the table. Ginny instinctively reached for it, then froze mid-motion as she realized her mistake. To her mother she had to look like Harry, who didn't like porridge. Thinking quickly, she pushed the bowl across the table to Harry, who took it with a grimace.
"You're not hungry, Ginny?" Her mother asked, concerned.
"Oh, I... I am," Harry replied hastily. "Just... not for porridge." He tried to smile, hoping her mother would buy the excuse.
Thankfully, her mother turned back to the stove, shaking her head. "You two are acting a bit odd this morning. Harry taking his tea with sugar, Ginny with milk... What's going on?"
Ginny and Harry exchanged wide-eyed glances, panic flashing across their faces.
"It's just... a little early," Ginny blurted out, her heart racing. "We're not quite awake yet." She forced a laugh, which came out sounding strangled.
Her mother gave them a long look but seemed satisfied for the moment. Ginny let out a silent breath of relief as her mother turned back to the stove.
Merlin, this was harder than she thought.
Fortunately, breakfast went on without any further mishaps, well, until Ron shuffled into the kitchen.
Rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly, he shot Ginny a confused look as he sat down next to Harry. "Oi, why did you switch places, mate?"
Ginny tensed as Harry gave her a panicked look before turning to Ron with a strained smile. "Uh, no reason," he muttered. Then, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to be Ginny, he quickly added, "I'll help with the dishes, Mum."
Her mother beamed at him. "Oh, how sweet of you today, Ginny."
Ginny nodded, suppressing a relieved smile. At least he didn't call her Mum 'Mrs Weasley'. She stood up, cleared her throat, and tried to make her voice sound as casual as possible. "What's the problem, mate. You're late for breakfast anyway."
Ron shrugged, reaching for a slice of toast. "Weirdest morning ever," he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
On her way upstairs, Ginny made a quick stop in her room to fetch some parchment and a quill. She needed to send Dean a letter to cancel their date, and with Ron distracted by his breakfast, she had just enough time to do it without any awkward questions.
But first - her breath caught in her throat... She still had to get dressed. She couldn't exactly walk around in Harry's pyjamas all day. Thankfully, Ron's absence made things easier. Sure, Harry and Ron were probably used to seeing each other starkers, but the idea of Ron seeing her like this made her skin crawl. Merlin, it even felt weird changing in this room.
Thankfully, Harry's jeans were lying next to his camp bed, but she'd need a t-shirt and... oh no. He wasn't wearing anything under the pyjamas. Blowing out her cheeks in frustration, she rummaged through Harry's trunk, grabbing the nearest pair of underpants and an oversized t-shirt - probably a hand-me-down from his giant cousin. Quickly, she slipped the t-shirt over her head, thankful it was long enough to cover everything down there. Pulling off the pyjama bottoms, she hastily put on the underwear and jeans, breathing a sigh of relief when she was finally dressed.
Now all she had to do was write the damn letter.
Sitting at Ron's desk, Ginny stared at the blank parchment, twirling the quill between her fingers. How was she supposed to write this? She couldn't explain the situation, but she had to cancel the date. The thought of Harry strolling through Diagon Alley with Dean on his arm was mortifying. At least she hadn't kissed Dean yet - Harry would be spared that embarrassment. With a frustrated sigh, she began to write.
Dear Dean,
I'm sorry to tell you that I won't be able to make it to Diagon Alley on Monday due to unforeseen family matters. I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express.
Love, Ginny
Quickly, she folded the letter and wrote Dean's name on it, her heart pounding as she sealed it. Just as she was about to leave the room, Ron appeared in the doorway, eyeing the letter in her hand suspiciously.
"Who are you writing to, mate?" he asked, craning his neck to get a better look. His eyes widened as he spotted the neat handwriting on the envelope. "Wait... that's Ginny's handwriting, isn't it?"
Ginny's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah," she said, trying to sound casual. "She asked me to use Hedwig to send a letter for her."
Ron frowned, clearly not satisfied with the answer. "To Dean? I'm not sure I like that."
Ginny's temper flared. She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "And what do you know about it, Ron?"
"Well, I just think Dean's not the right bloke for her," Ron said with a shrug. "I mean, come on, Harry. She can do better."
Ginny's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of frustration and confusion. "Oh, really?" she shot back, her voice dangerously low. "And who exactly is the right bloke for her?"
"Keep your hair on, mate. I'm just saying." Quirking an eyebrow, he grinned slightly. "I dunno... maybe someone who's been looking out for her since she was a kid. Someone who's actually thick as thieves with her lately."
Ginny blinked, caught off guard. Was he seriously implying...? She swallowed hard, her mind racing. This whole situation was far more complicated than she'd thought. Without another word, she grabbed the letter and bolted out of the room, her mind swirling with questions.
On her way downstairs, she stopped at her room and knocked after a moment's thought.
"Who's there?" came the hesitant reply.
Opening the door, she peeked in. Harry was sitting on her bed, leafing through one of her Quidditch magazines. He was wearing her short jeans and a green t-shirt with no bra underneath, she noticed immediately. She wasn't sure whether she should be mortified or relieved that he hasn't... Well, better not to think about it now.
"Hi," she said with an awkward smile, holding up the letter, instinctively with Dean's name facing away from Harry. "I just wanted to ask if I could borrow Hedwig."
"Sure. Go ahead," came Harry's slightly amused reply. "She's your owl."
"Ha, ha. How funny," Ginny laughed and turned around to see if the coast was clear. "We really need to have a word, Harry. Fancy a walk around the pond?"
Harry nodded. "Fine with me. But remember, we're supposed to meet for Quidditch later."
"Ouch, yes," Ginny uttered, putting her hand to her mouth. Quidditch. How could she ever forget about Quidditch? "Let's hurry then. We can't skip Quidditch because of this mess, can we?"
"Wait. I'm coming with you," Harry said, and together, they walked through the back door of the Burrow. As they made their way to the pond, Ginny noticed Hedwig take off from a nearby oak tree, following them. Harry's owl clearly sensed a letter was waiting for her.
When they were out of sight of the house, they stopped to hand the letter to Hedwig.
"What's wrong, girl?" Harry asked, raising his hand for Hedwig to land. "Come on."
"She knows something's off," Ginny said with a giggle as Hedwig finally perched on Harry's arm. "But she's not fooled. She knows you're in there, even if you look like me."
Harry took the letter from Ginny and tied it to Hedwig's leg, raising an eyebrow when he saw the address. "Dean? Really?"
"I have to cancel our date for Monday. Unless you want to stroll through Diagon Alley with him," Ginny replied with a smirk.
"Merlin, no. No chance," Harry muttered, horrified. "I thought you only brought Dean up to annoy Ron."
"No. He asked me out…," Ginny began.
"And you said yes," Harry finished for her, nodding.
"He was the only one who asked," Ginny said, watching Harry closely, though it was strange seeing her own face react.
"Fly, Hedwig, and be save," Harry called as he sent the owl off. They watched until she was just a speck in the distance before walking the rest of the way to the pond where Harry led them to a bench by the shore, and they sat down.
"What do we do if this doesn't wear off?" Ginny sighed. "Being in your body is...a bit of a nuisance."
"Tell me about it," Harry replied with a sarcastic smile.
"No offence, but how do you live with that... thing?" She pointed down at herself, blushing despite not being in her own body. "It's demanding attention all the time."
Harry blushed. "Sorry about that. But honestly, it's not like I can control it either."
"And I need to take a shower," Ginny said cautiously. "I skipped it this morning, but later when we're back from Quidditch..."
"Can we close our eyes while we talk?" Harry suggested suddenly. "It makes it less weird when I don't have to keep looking at my own face."
Ginny giggled, then nodded. "Fine with me." Closing her eyes, she leaning back on the bench. It did indeed feel less awkward, she realized, and with that came a bit more courage. "So, what about the shower? Do we shower together and just...promise not to look?"
Harry took a deep breath. "That's...weird. If I wanted to, I could've taken a look already, you know."
"And did you?" Ginny asked, her voice suddenly tense.
"I haven't even dared to put on a different pair of knickers," Harry chuckled. "Besides, I'd find it weird to see my own butt in the shower."
Ginny laughed softly. "We could turn off the light."
"And trust you not to turn it back on?" Harry teased.
"Okay, so what then? Do we trust each other?"
"Do we have any other choice?" Harry asked sceptically.
Ginny hesitated, then spoke, surprising herself with her own honesty. "You know, I'm starting to not care if you look. I just want to shower and not feel...awkward about it."
Harry seemed to consider this for a moment. "Then let's do it."
Ginny's heart pounded even harder, but she nodded. "Okay. It's complicated enough. Let's not make it more so." She paused, then asked, "And if this doesn't fade and we never switch back?"
"Then we'll have a serious word with your brothers when we're in Diagon Alley tomorrow," Harry said. "But let's think of something else for now. Ron's probably already looking for us, and we don't want him finding us here alone. How about we head to the Quidditch pitch?"
Ginny nodded, feeling slightly more at ease. "Yeah, let's go."
When they reached the broom shed, Ron was already flying his rounds. As he spotted them, he immediately flew over, eyeing them curiously. "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."
"We went for a walk. Not that it's any of your business," Ginny replied, a bit too sharply, then instantly held her breath, hoping her tone, coming from Harry's mouth, didn't raise Ron's suspicions.
To her surprise, Ron just gave her a knowing smile. "It's alright, mate. Looks like you took my advice to heart."
Harry shot her a questioning look, which she met with a quick shake of her head. Thankfully, he didn't press further, and Ginny hurried into the broom shed.
"Oi, why aren't you taking your Firebolt, mate?" asked Ron, visibly surprised, when she returned with her hand-me-down broom.
"Merlin's underpants," she muttered under her breath, realizing her mistake and breathed a sigh of relief when Harry came to her rescue.
"I asked if I could borrow it," he explained smoothly, raising his eyebrows in a way that was pure Ginny.
Ginny swung a leg over her old broom, hoping it would help throw Ron off their trail. For a moment, she mourned the thought that she'd missed the chance to fly the Firebolt but was immediately brought back to reality. Harry's taller frame made it difficult for her to sit comfortably on her usual broom. She kicked off the ground, wobbling slightly, as she rose into the air, trying to keep the broom steady.
"Not quite the Firebolt, is it?" Ron called up with a laugh, oblivious to her struggle.
"Guess not," Ginny replied, forcing a grin, though it still felt strange hearing Harry's voice instead of her own. She cast a quick glance at Harry, who was mounting the Firebolt with practised ease. Despite everything, he seemed to be managing well enough in her body even though his legs barely reached the footrests.
As they rose into the air, Ginny had her own trouble finding the footrests with the unfamiliar long legs and had to adjust her grip because her longer arms meant she was sitting too upright.
Ron zoomed towards the goal hoop with a Quaffle tucked under his arm, boasting, "I'm feeling unbeatable today. Come on, you two. Try and score some goals if you can."
Ginny exchanged a glance with Harry, who shrugged as if to say, "He won't give up until he gets his way."
As they started, Ginny quickly realized that despite being confident in her skills as a Chaser, Harry's longer arms were throwing off her game. Several times, the Quaffle slipped through her fingers, and Ron didn't hesitate to mock her fumbles.
"You laughed too soon," Ginny shouted, finally managing to sink her first Quaffle into the goal with a deft feint. "We're going to slaughter you now!"
She shot a quick look at Harry, who was struggling with her shorter arms and often missed catching the ball. "It'll work out," he replied, his expression slightly frustrated.
They kept at it for nearly an hour, with Ginny gradually adapting to the unfamiliar body when Harry slowed down and gestured for Ginny to follow him as he descended back to the ground. "I think I've had enough for now," he said, slightly breathless but with a reassuring smile that told her they were still together in this.
Ginny landed beside him, nearly stumbling as she touched down. She quickly caught herself, hoping Ron hadn't noticed the awkward landing.
"Yeah, me too," she agreed, relieved to hand the broom back to Harry. He took it and swapped it for the Firebolt with a look of understanding.
Ron landed next to them, grinning. "Not bad, mate," he said, addressing Ginny in Harry's body. "But you might want to stick with the Firebolt if you want to keep up."
Ginny forced a laugh, trying to mimic Harry's usual easy-going attitude. "Yeah, I'll work on that."
On their way back to the Burrow, they laughed and joked about all the little mistakes they'd made during the game, though Ron took every opportunity to tease them. "Your performance needs some serious work if Gryffindor's going to win the Cup," he said, clapping Ginny on the back. "But you're our captain, mate. We'll get there."
Ginny met her brother's eyes, half-expecting he'd notice something was off. She gave him a playful shove. "That's not what I'd call faith in your captain."
Ron chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm just being honest. You're my best mate. I couldn't lie to you."
Ginny let out a relieved breath, grateful that Ron hadn't noticed anything. All she needed now was a refreshing shower - and with that thought, that uneasy feeling suddenly was back.