Harry felt the first stirrings of consciousness, and not wanting to leave his cosy bed, he resolutely kept his eyes closed. In his still groggy state, he snuggled closer to the warm body pressed up beside him, his hand enclosing around a pert breast. Suddenly it hit Harry that he should be alone in bed, and even though his eyes remained closed, his mind was wide awake.
With his eyes still closed, Harry processed the situation in his mind. He was most definitely not alone in bed, as he should be, and his surprise visitor was most assuredly a witch. A witch with pretty decent assets if the handful he had hold of was any indication. Harry could also detect the witch in his arms was naked, as was he, given the fact he could feel her warm body pressed against his and his body was reacting like a typical man's.
Subtly moving his hips backwards, so he was no longer pressed against his bed partner, Harry slowly cracked open his eyes and gasped at the sight that greeted him. There was indeed a naked witch curled up beside him, and even though he couldn't see her face he recognised her curly hair. Hair that unmistakably belonged to his best friend, Hermione Granger.
For a moment, Harry couldn't move as he tried to work out what was going on. How on earth had he ended up in bed with Hermione? He couldn't even remember seeing Hermione the previous evening, let alone climbing into bed with her. Ginny was going to kill him. At the thought of his girlfriend, Harry shot up in bed, suddenly realising that he wasn't in Gryffindor Tower. Which meant he was in the head dorms as Hermione was the Head Girl and no longer resided in Gryffindor Tower.
Not bothering to look around Hermione's bedroom, which he'd never seen before, Harry bolted from the bed and ran towards what he assumed was the bathroom she shared with the Head Boy. Luckily, he'd picked the right door and he found himself in a spacious bathroom, with two separate doors. Quickly making sure the second door was locked, as the last thing he wanted to do was come face to face with the Head Boy, Harry blindly turned towards the sink as he tried to work out what had happened and how to fix things, with both Hermione and Ginny. Splashing some water onto his face, his raised his head and jumped back in horror at the sight that greeted him in the mirror.
The face that stared back at him, looking just as horrified as Harry felt, didn't belong to him. It belonged to the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy. Slowly Harry inched forwards, and Malfoy's reflection did the same. Tearing his gaze away from the mirror, Harry looked down at his body and realised that it wasn't his. He was now paler than usual, and he hated to admit it, but more toned than he usually was as well. Looking at hands that weren't his, he then lifted his hands to feel his face. The entire shape of his face was different, and of course there were no glasses and yet his eyesight was perfect. Finally, he tugged on a few strands of his hair and raising his eyes upwards he could see strands of white blond hair, rather than his usual black.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, gasping as the voice that came from his mouth matched the reflection in the mirror. "I'm Draco sodding Malfoy."
For a long time, all Harry could do was stare at the reflection that wasn't his. Try as he might, he could not work out what was going on. Somehow he'd ended up not only looking and sounding like Draco, but residing in the head dorms. So if he was here in Draco's body, did that mean the blond Slytherin was stuck in his body up in Gryffindor Tower? Harry didn't know what the hell was going on, but it was giving him a headache and he desperately needed time to think. Pushing himself away from the sink, he turned to head back into the bedroom he'd just come from, only to freeze in the doorway.
Hermione was now awake and she was sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist revealing her bare breasts. Breasts that Harry's hands had been wrapped around when he woke up that morning. Between the memory of waking up pressed up against Hermione, combined with the sight of her sitting topless in front of him, Harry couldn't help but react and he didn't have to look down to know that the body he was occupying was sporting a pretty hard erection.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked in concern. "You look pale?"
"I'm fine," Harry answered, not ready to confide in anyone as he still didn't quite believe what was happening himself.
"Then what are you doing up?" Hermione questioned with a pout. "Come back to bed."
"No," Harry cried as Hermione gripped the duvet as though she was going to flip it off herself. "I've just remembered I've got some homework I need to finish for Monday morning. I should get it done before I forget again."
"Do you need any help?" Hermione asked.
"No, I'll be fine," Harry muttered.
Glancing around the room for the first time, he realised the colour scheme was green and silver, meaning they were in the Head Boy's room. Breathing a sigh of relief, he hurried over to a set of drawers and rooted around until he found a pair of jogging bottoms and a dark green t-shirt.
"Are you sure you don't need a hand?" Hermione suddenly purred.
Looking back towards Hermione, Harry almost keeled over at the sultry look on his best friend's face. Her attention was also riveted lower than his face, and Harry blushed as he realised just which part of Draco, his best friend was eyeing up. And what exactly she meant by giving him a hand.
"I should be getting on," he muttered, backing out of the bedroom, the clothes he'd found clutched in front of him.
Once out of the bedroom, he heard Hermione laugh and when he heard the bed creaking he thought she was getting up after all, but then there was silence and he figured she had curled back up. Not wanting to risk her following him, he bolted down the stairs and into the common room. Once in the common room he realised he'd forgotten to find any underwear, but not wanting to head back to the bedroom, he settled for pulling the jogging bottoms and t-shirt over Draco's naked body. Sadly putting clothes on did nothing to alleviate the erection he was sporting, but considering Harry's mind kept flicking back to a half-naked Hermione, he wasn't totally surprised by his continuous arousal.
"Stop it, she's your best friend," he berated himself as he slumped down onto the sofa. "Your best friend who is clearly shagging Malfoy," he added.
However, questions of how Hermione had ended up in the Head Boy's bed were overshadowed by questions of why he was in Draco's body. What the hell had happened? The most obvious answer was magic, as over the years Harry had discovered that magic could do almost anything. But could it really cause him to swap bodies with someone else? Harry just didn't know. Nor did he know who to turn to for help. After all, who was going to believe that he was Harry Potter trapped in the body of his rival Draco Malfoy? The whole thing sounded crazy to his ears, and he was the one it was happening to.
...
As Draco began to stir, he mentally pouted when he realised Hermione was no longer snuggled beside him. Reaching for his girlfriend, he let out a disappointed sigh when he realised he was alone in bed. However, he wasn't too desolate as he knew Hermione would be back. She never got up without at least checking he was awake, and Draco couldn't help but smirk as he thought of how she usually checked he was awake.
The memories of Hermione's usual wake-up call, soon had him rising to the occasion and he felt himself straining against his pyjama bottoms. Only he didn't wear pyjama bottoms. And now he realised he was wearing what he presumed was a pyjama top as well. Which didn't make any sense as he always slept naked, especially when Hermione was with him as he liked to feel her pressed against him in the night.
Awash with confusion, Draco tore open his eyes and sat up in bed. When all he encountered was blurred vision, he rubbed at his eyes, but even then everything was still blurred. Frowning in confusion, he squinted to try and get a better idea of what was going on and almost fell out of bed when he found himself sitting in a red and gold four poster bed. Aside from the colour scheme, the beds were identical to what were down in the dungeons, and as he slowly looked around the room, still squinting as it was the only way he could see anything, he found four more identical beds spaced around what seemed to be a circular room.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
The second he spoke, Draco knew he was in trouble as it wasn't his voice that left his lips. Shakily, he held out his hands in front of him and found himself staring at hands which weren't his. The hands in question were still wizard's hands, but they had more colour, the fingers weren't quite as long and there was no sign of his signet ring, containing the Malfoy crest, which he rarely took off.
Tearing his attention away from his hands, Draco looked down at his body and found he was indeed dressed in a pair of pyjamas. A pair of blue checked pyjamas to be precise. Not wanting to check out the body underneath the pyjamas, as he knew it wasn't going to be his own, he swung his legs out of bed. As he did so, his attention fell to the bedside cabinet and a pair of very familiar circular black glasses sitting there.
"Hell no," he muttered even as he picked the glasses up and gingerly placed them on his face. Instantly, the world around him sharpened up and the figures in the surrounding beds took shape.
Barely registering that the figure in the bed closest to him was that of Ron Weasley, Draco lurched to his feet and headed for the nearest door. That door led onto a landing leading to a staircase, so Draco turned back around and headed for the door at the opposite end of the room. This door led to the bathroom Draco had been seeking, and even though he suspected what he would see, it was still a blow to look in the mirror hanging above the sink and finding Harry Potter staring back at him.
"What have you done, Potter?" he spat at his reflection, finding it disconcerting to see Harry mouthing the words he'd said.
Staring at his reflection, Draco tried to find a reasonable explanation as for what had happened, but he was at a complete loss. He'd never heard of anything like this before, and try as he might he just couldn't think of any sort of magic that would allow people to swap bodies. Or at least that was what he was guessing had happened. Somehow he'd ended up in Harry's body, which meant the Gryffindor was likely in his body.
Suddenly realising that if he was right, Harry was in his body, waking up next to a naked Hermione, Draco turned and sprinted from the bathroom. Stopping beside Harry's bed, he shoved his feet into a pair of shoes and bolted out of the first door he'd tried. Running down the stairs, he barely stopped to register the Gryffindor common room as he bolted for what was clearly the entrance and slammed out of the common room.
It was only once he was out in the corridor that he realised he wasn't entirely sure of where in the castle he was. Calming himself down, Draco recalled everything he knew about where the Gryffindors resided. The most obvious thing, that everyone in the school knew, was that the Gryffindors lived in a tower. He'd heard mentions of Gryffindor Tower since the very first year he'd started Hogwarts. And if the Gryffindors resided in a tower, it made sense he was on one of the top floors of the vast castle. Which meant he needed to travel downwards as the Head Dorms were on the third floor.
Knowing that he would hit some stairs eventually, Draco turned and set off down the corridor at a decent speed. It didn't take long before he hit the main staircase, and knowing he could now find his way easily enough, he all but ran down the stairs to the third floor. Exiting on the correct floor, he hurried to the Head Dorms, and since he knew the password he used that to gain access to the common room, rather than knocking.
Entering the Head Dorms, he spotted himself sitting on the sofa, staring into space. Furious as the sight of his body, presumably with Potter's psyche inside, Draco saw red and he quickly crossed the room, grabbing himself by the t-shirt and hauling himself up from the sofa.
"What the hell have you done, Potter?"