Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

_OK well this is my first fan fiction and I'm kind of nervous, though I don't know why I've done much scarier than publish a story online….have you ever been to the Great Fissures in Yosemite? And like, looked over the side? Yeah. That's scary. But I hope you like it and I hope I did JK Rowling justice, although I doubt she would ever publish anything as crazy as this! _

_Disclaimer: Know it's been said many, many times before, by many, many people, but I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. Also I don't own anything in this story that I don't own, just as a backup. _

**Chapter One: Nightmare Gone Wrong(ish)**

Moonlight filtered through the wide windows of the boy's dormitory, illuminating millions of swirling dust motes and reflecting off the scratched, circular lenses of Harry Potter's glasses. Though Neville was snoring at an earsplitting volume, and Ron was spazzing peacefully in the bed next to Harry's, he could not sleep, and he was afraid if he did, the nightmares would come back. And if the nightmares came back, Snape would know. And if Snape knew….well, it's not as if Occlumency lessons could get any worse. But it would complicate things. With Hermione as well…didn't she realize how hard this was for him even without her nagging?

At that moment, Ron started sleep-talking. "No….no…more bananas…STOP ATTACKING ME!" Harry, startled, sat up, as did a grumbling Seamus and Dean.

"Just as we got used to Neville," Seamus sighed, shaking his head. They looked to Neville, who was still asleep and drooling a little. But their gazes were ripped from the chubby little boy as Ron started flailing his arms. One hand groped for his dresser, landing on his wand. Reflexes still groggy, none of the boys did anything in time to stop the bright white, crackling beam of light that shot out at Harry. Harry flinched, but a small part of his brain reminded him that this _was_ Ron, and for as impressive as the lighting looked, it probably wouldn't do any real harm.

Oh how wrong he was.

Professor McGonagall was about to turn into bed. Placing her empty cup of tea on her desk and marking the last essay on metamorphagi with an E and a scribbled, generic comment about how _beautiful_ the words flowed together and just how _unique _the thesis was (although, in reality, she had read ten just like it). Standing up and stretching, she became suddenly aware of a steady pounding in the corridor…unmistakably, hurried footsteps. A cry of "hurry up!" rang through the hall, and the muffled sounds of bedroom slippers on stone grew closer. Wondering what on earth could be going on, she opened the door to confront the students and was almost run over by a desperate and scared looking Dean and Seamus. "Pro-pro-professor….Harry…Ron…they…"

"Spit it out, Seamus," She commanded strictly. If this was another contest to see who could eat the most Cockroach Clusters…

"Well Ron was….well, having this dream…and in his sleep he grabbed his wand and cursed Harry!" Seamus gulped, almost expecting punishment from this harsh and tired professor.

"Did you see what happened?" McGonagall asked, beginning at a brisk pace back towards the common room. Seamus and Dean jogged a few steps to keep up.

"Well, no. See, professor, they both fell back asleep," Seamus admitted, abashed.

"And you saw fit to leave them there? Were they asleep, or unconscious, can you tell me that, either of you?" She scolded angrily.

"Neville's there, professor," Dean interrupted hopefully.

"Nice try, Thomas, but I've seen Neville sleep through more than a curse before," McGonagall said in her hurried and almost amused fashion. Behind the teacher's back, Seamus gave Dean a what-was-that gesture and mouthed really? That was then they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

But Dean and Thomas had missed something. Ron and Harry knew exactly what the curse had done. After the spell had worked its magic, in the brief moment where Ron had awakened and grasped what he had done, the two boys had shared a look that only best friends know, where it seems the other's mind is open to yours and yours to them, and you both jump to the same conclusion. Harry and Ron, having switched bodies, shared a look that said, _let it go_. Harry, in Ron's too-small maroon pajamas, fell back on the pillow and feigned sleep. Ron, with the bizarre sensation of Harry's glasses sliding down his nose, did the same. They didn't know what this would get them into, but they knew it could only mean one thing—adventure.

**(AN: When referring to the character that has Harry's personality in Ron's body, I will say Harry, and when referring to Ron in Harry's body, I will say Ron, unless it is another, unknowing character's viewpoint of the two.)**

The two boys, hiding in their exchanged bodies, blinked their eyes open to the bright light of the _lumos _radiating from the grey-haired lady's wand, held at chest level in the doorway. "Potter. Weasley. Explain yourselves," she said shortly.

"Well, I—I mean, Ron, was having a bad dream, and started yelling something—something about marshmallows" Ron explained, catching Harry's eye for encouragement. Harry nodded behind McGonagall's back at Ron's job of explaining himself, although his recollection was that Ron had been bawling about bananas, not marshmallows. "And grabbed his wand and shot light at me. It didn't actually do anything." he added, maybe too quickly.

"Marshmallows? Weasley," she swished around tersely to face Harry. "I don't believe the curse did anything, but maybe you should see someone about these dreams." She advised curtly.

"Right, professor," Harry replied grimly. It was ironic that he, Harry, not Ron, _was_ currently seeing someone, a very specific someone, actually, about troubling deliriums.

"And you two, next time one of your roommates is—ah, _disturbed_, be sure to investigate yourselves before bothering me." An irked expression on her lined face, she glared at the downwards-turned heads of Seamus and Dean. Without another word, Professor McGonagall took her cue to leave.

"Sorry for the bother, mates," Seamus apologized. "But I could've sworn that curse did something off—like, it seemed to almost eat the two of you"

"Right. Well, that's coming from the bloke who's blown up 53 items to date, and still can't turn water into rum," Ron said. He wouldn't have been so rude except for the fact that he was on the defensive. Seamus, slightly depressed and definitely suspicious, shook his head and clambered into his four-poster, falling asleep to the music of Neville's heavy snores.

_Ok so you know when you're printing a paper for school or work or whatever, and then you notice a mistake? Well I published this and then forgot to add this little author's note at the end. Woops. So anyhoo, here's the story...thanks for reading and thanks if you review (which would be appreciated...need...boost...of ...self...confidence...or, if you wish to critique). I left this chapter open to go in several directions, I'm not sure where it will take me. If you have anything you want to happen, feel free to put it in a review! Special thanks to my editor, inspiration, and friend, pen name Tiki O'Toole (read her stuff...it's great...). Will post next chapter soon-hopefully within the week! See you then!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey everyone sorry I haven't written in so long I'd like to say that I tried but honestly I'm just really busy and really lazy when I'm not busy. School started…..and I have an early class period (band-I'm trying the oboe-I sound like a duck it's hilarious!) before and a sport (cross country) after, so I'm there from like 7-5 daily! But anyway, to the story. I actually did start writing it a while ago and couldn't find the document._

**Chapter two: Bramble-spiked Firehogs**

Ron's eyelids, heavy and squinted together from the bright unaccustomed sunlight, finally resolved to blink themselves open.

He was immediately disoriented. Across from him was Seamus, not Dean, and to his left was….him?

Then he remembered the night previous. Smiling widely, he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but they remained blurry. Oh yeah…Harry wore glasses! He had fallen asleep with them on, which must mean they would be….ouch! He had been feeling around under his pillow and nicked himself on the shards that were once the lenses of Harry Potter's glasses. Oops. Must've fallen off and gotten smashed…where did Harry keep his wand? Ron felt around for the thin wooden stick on the bedside table to his right. Finally grasping it, he pointed it at the fragments and muttered _Reparo_! Satisfied with his handiwork, Ron slid his glasses on and immediately tripped out of bed, half tangled in sheets, to wake up Harry.

Harry, however, had been lying awake like a boy on Christmas for the past two hours, at _least_, imagining the prospects of not being him. He knew it couldn't, and wouldn't, stay like this forever. He still was the Chosen One, and had to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort, save the Wizard race, and the Muggle one, and all of humanity, etcetera, by some unselected deadline. But not getting stared down twenty-four hours a day, not having to be the only gossip topic in the whole school (seriously, had anyone anything better to talk about? Ernie MacMillan had been caught with none other than Pansy Parkinson, _snogging_, wasn't that at all interesting?), would be nice for a while.

It was only a matter of how long they could keep it up.

"Harry, mate, wake up! This is bloody wicked!" Ron whisper-yelled.

"I'm up," Harry replied straight away, sliding out of bed. He, too, stumbled, not used to a tall frame and gangly limbs. They stood facing each other, oblivious to everything else in the room.

"_Wow_," they awed in unison. Ron reached out to stroke his protrusive nose.

"Was it really _that_ long?" He asked quietly, almost sheepish. Harry, out of habit, extended his long arm to attempt to smooth his unruly hair.

"You're going to have a right time keeping it tidy," Harry laughed.

"Erm," came an unsure voice from across the room. Seamus was staring at the two of them. Hurriedly, they dropped their outstretched hands. "I'm going to forget I saw that." He plopped back down on his pillow. It was Saturday, time to sleep in.

Not tired at all, the two started dressing for the day. "Should we tell Hermione?" Harry whispered, searching through the rubbish pile that was Ron's trunk. "And which of these socks are used?"

"How can we not? She'll figure it out anyways, the bloody know-it-all." Ron stood up and peered into the trunk Harry was kneeling over. "The blue striped ones look fresh."

"Thanks," Harry said, making a mental note to get a house-elf in for laundry as soon as possible.

Yet it was not Hermione, but Luna, who noticed first, as she held the door to the Great Hall open for the pair on the way down to breakfast. "Ron? Harry? Oh, no, did the Bramble-spiked firehog get to you two?"

They appeared equally clueless. "Well, obviously, you switched bodies, and unless it was a switching spell, which I doubt, it would have to be the Bramble-spiked firehog, wouldn't it?" She smiled, wished them a good morning, and pranced away.

"Is it really that obvious?" Ron asked, mouth agape, staring at Luna as she sat down at the far end of the Ravenclaw table. "And what the bloody hell is a Fire-spiked bramblepig?"

"Naw, it's probably just Luna-" Harry muttered, not entirely convinced, as Ginny and Hermione sat down to their left.

"Ron, did mum send you the new Divination books Firenze wants?" Ginny asked, helping herself to porridge.

"Yeah, they came yesterday, don't be such a nag," Ron clapped his hand over his mouth and proceeded to knock fried eggs onto his lap as Harry stomped on his foot.

"Ok, Harry," Ginny's eyes narrowed, "Well, I just saw Michael, I'd better be going…" Porridge untouched, she stood up and proceeded to greet her latest beau.

After she left, Hermione slapped Ron's shoulder. "Harry, what was that about? Why would you-"

"Hermione, something weird happened last night, Ron and I…we kind of switched bodies. I'm Harry."

It was Hermione's turn to slap a hand over her mouth. "What? But how? That's really advanced magic—were you two studying for OWLS? Because that's not going to be until NEWT…or is it for Dumble-"

"Hermione, come off it, you know we weren't studying, it was more of a nightmare…" And they embarked on a jumbled account of the night previous.

"Well you have to tell someone!"

"Typical Hermione response, what did I tell you, Harry?"

"Actually, you told me to tell her…"

"Did not!"

"Anyways, we aren't going to tell anyone. Don't you see? I finally get to be a normal person, and Ron can get the fame he's always wanted. It's going to be great!" Harry explained, trying desperately to convince her not to run to McGonagall.

"Oh, Harry, you know it can't stay this way, don't you?" She started listing all of the upcoming events of Harry's future, leaving the boy himself feeling rather depressed at the possibly few short hours he had of Weasleyhood. "But, I guess…what's the worst that could come. It could count as cheating if you sit through exams like this…" The other two cracked up at the seriousness of her concern, and eventually, she joined in.

_OK, so I think I said in the last chapter I would try to write this chapter in the next week…well now it's 2012…but anyhoo, it's taken me two chapters to get the framework of the story down, chapter three the plot will start, and I might finish after just four or five chapters, I had a brilliant idea for another, more original story my friend said she hadn't seen before. Thanks to Tiki O'Toole for her feedback and grammar/spell checking! You're the best! The rest of you, read her stories! Or I will enlist my personal friend Voldemort to hunt you down and make you suffer until you do! K byeee!_

~sushi


	3. Chapter 3

_Hola! Not much to say, I guess since I missed last chapter's disclaimer I will add here that not unlike everyone else on this site I don't own Harry Potter, and a universal disclaimer for all aspiring fanficiton writers would be nice. I don't know about you, but I kind of don't want to be sued over copyright issues._

**Chapter three: Boys**

"But I have to finish the diagram on the Bat Boogey hex for Charms, and McGonagall assigned that essay…two and a half feet, right Hermione?" Ron asked. He was sprawled on the floor by the fire while Hermione had taken occupancy in the last vacant seat at the crowded study table.

"Hmmm?" was her only reply, but Ron could see the parchment that rolled off her desk. It was a lot longer than two and a half feet.

"Ron, you have to go to Occlumency. I'll finish your Charms, which is being turned in under my name, so you'd better get better than your last assignment—"

"Aw, come on, Harry, that was try out week for Quidditch. And don't you think Snape will think its odd when he pokes into my mind and all he sees is…is…"

"Nothing?" Hermione suggested from the table, not looking down.

"Just don't think," was Harry's advice.

"How am I supposed to not think, when you've been at it for a month now and by this point Snape probably knows the color of your cousin's knickers."

Harry snorted darkly. "He knows more than that, trust me," Harry said, thinking about his Ministry dreams. "But if you want to keep this façade up, you'd better get going. You have ten minutes to get to his office."

"Fine. Here's my Charms, if you want it done at all you'd better finish it," Ron thrust his parchment and quill into Harry's arms and gathered up his textbooks scattered about the rug. "See you when I get back from hell,"

"No need to be dramatic!" Harry called after him, then sighed and reclined in the old armchair. "This is the life," he yawned lazily, regretting it a second later when Hermione responded.

"Ron has a point, Snape is going to find out. And you can't expect him to be any better at Occlumency than you."  
>"I dunno, he has a thick skull sometimes," Harry reasoned.<p>

"Harry!" Hermione slapped him with her completed essay.

Ron was rather slow on the way to the dungeons, grumbling to himself all the while. Of course he had wanted Harry's fame. Last year proved that much. But he hadn't realized the cost. At the moment, the cost was an hour with Snape, playing the boy the Potions Master despised, and trying to keep the git out of his thoughts. Mrs. Norris, prowling the hall, growled in offense as he passed, and the urge to shove the hairball down Moaning Myrtle's toilet was stronger than ever. But he ignored her, didn't need Filch prying into his whereabouts on top of everything else going on. He reached Snape's door.

_Knock, knock, knock._

An icy "Enter," came from within. Something cold in the back of his throat, Ron did as commanded.

"Have you practiced?" was the greeting. Snape marked a final paper with a flourishing _D _and looked up into the Weasley's eyes. "Well?"

"Um, a bit," Ron decided weakly. What did Harry say?

"A bit _sir_. And a bit is hardly enough to protect you from one as practiced as the Dark Lord. Let us see how far a bit takes you in tonight's lessons. Wand at the ready, good. I will give you till three. One, two, _three_!" Snape shouted something, Ron wasn't listening, he was focusing on Quidditch. His theory was one similar to the Patronus, if you could focus on one thing, and one thing only, it would work.

But he felt Snape in his mind, like a serpent twisting around his thoughts, bringing them to his attention then strangling them. One by one they flashed by, Quidditch, Grimmauld Place, he hoped all the while nothing would surface too obvious about himself.

Then something changed. He felt the serpent in his mind, and didn't want it there. So he cast it out. It was as simple as that. And he was brought back to the small office and a professor who appeared extremely aghast.

The professor didn't talk until his composure was regained. "Your position on the Quidditch team. You play seeker, if I am correct."

"No, I pla—" Ron caught himself. "Yes, I play seeker, but as team captain—it's important—important to know all the positions, sir."

"Really? I will inform Madame Hooch of your wonderful insight. Now to your performance, what did you do different that let you succeed this time, Potter?"

Pause. "I don't know, I just…" Pause.

"I don't know _sir_. Please proceed." Snape sneered.

"I guess, I felt you in my mind, and I didn't want you there."

"You guess. Guesses are not good enough! Again."

Again, Snape cursed him. Again, Ron threw Snape from his mind. After the fifth time, Snape could not get into his head at all.

"Very good Potter. I will inform Dumbledore of your improvement. I dare say it took long enough. You may go." Snape made to leave his office, but Ron felt particularly confident.

"Professor, I've done well today, right? So, perhaps, I could have next week off? For catching up on homework." Ron asked.

"Absolutely not. This is on top of your schoolwork and any extracurricular activities. And let me tell you, if your effort in potions translates into your grades, your homework must not take you very long at all." With that, he left. Ron felt only slightly deflated as he practically skipped to the common room.

"You did it, Harry!" Ron cried.

"Did what?"

"I mean, I did it! I blocked Snape! He couldn't get in at all! He's going to inform Dumbledore of your—my improvement." Ron beamed with pride.

"You couldn't improve, you've only had one lesson!" Harry snapped bitterly. Hermione "oh no"-ed from the chintz sofa, closing her _Muggle Studies: Comparison to the Wizarding World_.

"Well, I improved from what you did last week," Ron clarified. Only Hermione noticed how tactless of a statement that was.

"That's wonderful! Did you go off and defeat Voldemort while you were at it too?"

Ron now appeared confused and crestfallen. "No, I just…"

"Harry, you're not being fair. You wanted to keep the switch, you can't blame Ron for being…."

"Being what, exactly?" Harry demanded.

"Being who you envision yourself as!"

"What, you think I want to be Snape's little pet?"

Hermione sighed wearily. "No, Harry, I think you expect too much of yourself. But that's why you kept the switch. So either go back to being the Chosen One, or learn to live with the fact that it's OK to be…to have people better than you. If it helps, I could tell where Ron stopped and you started on the Charms homework. He misspelled the word 'toad'."

"Hey!" Ron started, but Harry cut him off.

"Well that's all easy for you to say, you're the brightest witch of your age."

She smiled. "And you're a fantastic Quidditch player. So what if Ron can perform Occlumency. He's _always_ lived in your shadow,"

"Hey! I'm over that." Ron protested. Hermione chortled.

"As if. Look, both of your lives have pros and cons. Live with them or switch back, and don't bug me,"

"Well no one actually asked you, Hermione," Harry pointed out.

"Fine! I won't help. See if you two _boys_ can handle this without a woman's wisdom."

"I think we will, thank you. Goodnight Hermione," Harry said, stomping off to bed.

"Yeah, thanks, Hemione," Ron followed. Hermione harrumphed, opening up her heavy book again. The two boys could barely hear what she mumbled under her breath, but they thought it was _boys_.

_Wow! What I can do when I'm bored. I don't think my last English essay was this long. Another thing I forget to ask for last chapter were reviews….they help with my self-confidence issues. Haha just kidding…um….kind of. But they are nice, and critiques are appreciated as well. Anyways, I'll publish this tomorrow (not a place for note-to-selfs, sushi, what are you thinking?), after I beg my dear friend Tiki to review this. We co-authored a one-shot I'm going to post soon if she doesn't claim rights for it on her profile. And as always, read and review her stories, they're all great but you might want a dictionary with you, her vocabulary is at a college level. Till later, everyone! _


End file.

Harry Potter, Humor