FIC: We're More Than Ordinary - Harry/Draco
Title: We're more than ordinary
Author: digthewriter
Rating: ~R
Word Count: 12,800
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Content: Characters might have done questionable things to invade the other person's privacy. Possible OOC. Hints at top!Draco. POV switch. Dream sequences. EWE. Lacking smut.
Summary: After a freak accident, which was totally Potter's fault, Draco has to live as Potter for three days. It isn't a party for Harry, either.
Notes: Originally, I really struggled with this story and thought about dropping out several times. Thanks to my betas Gracerene, and Josephinestone, this story survived and it only got better (IMO). I submitted this to the hd_fan_fair mods a month (and some change) late, and on birdsofshore's birthday -- since it is a prompt by her so technically this is a birthday present for her! If you look closely enough, (for those that would be familiar with the original TZ), I've given a bit of h/t to The Twilight Zone in the fic. I hope you enjoy it. The title doesn't come from anywhere, I really just DID NOT know what to call this fic.
~~~~**~~~~Draco stared at the misty glass, struggling to look at himself in the full length mirror, towel wrapped around his waist. He sighed with frustration and waited for the fog to clear. A set of green eyes stared back at him. At first he scowled, before he realised he was looking at an almost naked Potter. His heart started to beat as though its sole goal was to jump out of his chest.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked the reflection. It just smiled back at him.
Potter smiled back at him and took a step closer. Instinctively, Draco took a step back. "I'm not Potter," he said, "I'm you, Draco."
His towel dropped. Potter wrapped his hand around Draco's shaft - and Draco woke up.~~~~**~~~~We're More Than Ordinary"I'm sorry, gentlemen, there is no cure. You just have to wait it out."
"For how long?" Harry asked.
"What do you mean, wait it out?" Malfoy spat at the same time.
Luna shook her head, but kept her ground. "Two days. I should have my next shipment of the counter-curse potion in two days. You can come back then."
Malfoy scowled at her as if hoping she would budge if he continued staring. Harry, on the other hand, found his resolve melting. It technically was his fault. Even if he wouldn't admit it to Malfoy. Harry had hated this damned Polyjuice case from the beginning.
"What do you suggest we do?" Harry asked, adjusting his tie, and earning a scowl from Malfoy - who looked like Harry. Harry saw himself wearing Malfoy's robes and found it odd that they somehow fit. He could have sworn he and Malfoy were different sizes, but apparently not.
"Live your lives," she said.
"I can't exactly go to visit my parents looking like Potter!" Malfoy grudgingly adjusted his glasses. "You are absolutely bloody blind," he said to Harry.
"Well, Harry, why don't you go to the Manor, and Draco, why don't you go to the Burrow?"
"You have got to be joking!" they both said in unison.
"It's Friday," she said with a heavy sigh. "The potion won't be here until Monday morning, so come back then." She finally stood up from her chair, flicked her wand, and suddenly, their clothes switched. Harry, who now looked like Malfoy, was wearing Malfoy's clothes, and vice versa. He barely had time to process this when Luna squealed.
"Ooh, I'd never actually tried that spell before," she said, actually patting herself on the back. "Now, get out of here."#Things would have been a lot simpler if Potter had let Draco inspect the potion. After all, the man had been after Draco, anyway.
Draco was robbed on an afternoon when he wasn't home. Someone had broken into his flat and stolen his robes and his grooming supplies. Not long after, there had been reports of a man, looking like Draco Malfoy, seen at various establishments, hexing and harming people. Whenever the real Draco left his flat, he was mobbed by the wizarding community; they all thought it was him who'd robbed or hurt them.
Eventually, Draco had to seek out help from the DMLE and, thanks to Draco's luck, Harry Potter had been the Auror assigned to his case.
To make matters worse, the culprit who'd been after Draco, decided to go after Potter, as well.
First, his house was robbed. Draco found it comical that someone not only broke into an Auror's house to steal his robes and hair samples, but that said Auror was also the Saviour of the wizarding world. Next, somebody who looked like Harry Potter was seen taking celebrity photos with wizards, and then stealing their money pouches.
After a thorough investigation, Potter had found the home address of the perpetrator. Unfortunately for them, by the time the man had been caught, he’d already managed to attack both Potter and Draco with the mystery potion.
The phial for the potion was sealed. When Potter tried to open it, Draco had told him to wait. It was Polyjuice, and Potter claimed he was only going to sniff it. He couldn’t open the phial, though. So he’d done what any thick-headed Gryffindor would do, he’d tried to hex it open.
Instead of cooperating, the phials around them burst and a thick smoke surrounded them. By the time things cleared out, Draco was looking at himself. What was worse, though, was Potter was looking at himself, too. The containers had a fail-safe. Evidently, the man who'd had it in for Draco - as business competitor - created a spell that not only damaged the evidence, but attacked the intruder.
They had no idea how long this potion was going to continue affecting them, so Draco had suggested they go see a Healer. Potter didn’t want anyone to know what was happening to them, so they had to go to someone he could trust: Luna Lovegood.
A whole lot of good that did them.**FRIDAY**Harry opened the door to Malfoy’s flat, wary of his surroundings. It was Malfoy’s place, after all. Who knew how he’d have the place boobie-trapped for intruders. Except, Harry wasn’t an intruder, he had a key, and Malfoy’s clothes, his face. His body. Okay, he wasn’t going to think about that.
A house-elf immediately appeared. "You are home, Master Draco," the house-elf said.
"Yes…" Harry said, cautious. "I have a dinner plans tonight," he added after a moment of silence.
"Yes! Pheeny knows all about Master Draco’s dinner engagement at the Malfoy Manor!" the house-elf said excitedly. "Pheeny has all the clothes ready."
"All the clothes?" Harry said, following the house-elf into the walk-in wardrobe. Harry was immediately overwhelmed by the organisation of the wardrobe. Everything was colour-coded, even the shoes, under-shirts, and ties. Harry was glad he could find a clean one that he didn’t have to spell clean, like he would have had to at his house.
If Pheeny was so aware of Malfoy's schedule, then where was he when Malfoy had been robbed?
"Pheeny," Harry said in the haughtiest voice he could muster up-given that he was to sound like Malfoy, "if you are always here, then how was it possible for Mal-I mean me to get robbed?"
The house-elf looked down at the floor in shame. "Pheeny wasn’t careful," the house-elf said, and Harry saw her move just slightly. He knew what was coming next, and just like that, the house-elf started to bang her head against the side wall.
"Pheeny was just out of the house for thirty minutes. Pheeny didn’t secure the wards because Pheeny didn’t know-"
"Don’t-"
"Master Draco is right to punish Pheeny. Master Draco should not have stopped Pheeny last time-"
"No. You need to stop, right now!" Harry roared, and the house-elf immediately ceased the self-flagellation. "It’s okay. I’m sure I’ve told you before. It’s not your fault. I just wanted to know, is all."
The house-elf nodded and snapped her fingers. A moment later, a small glass of Firewhisky appeared in her hand, and she offered it to Harry. "For Master Draco," she said and then disappeared.
Harry turned around and looked at the clothes that were all set up for him. He picked out something that looked expensive and threw it on the bed, and then headed towards the loo; he needed to take a shower. Feeling so lost, he wished he could tell his friends about this, but knew that protocol dictated that he could not. He’d have to write up his report, get Malfoy’s testimony, and file it before he was allowed to discuss the case with anyone else. Wondering how good Malfoy was at keeping secrets, he only hoped that no one would find out.
Stepping into the stall, and missing his shower immediately, Harry groaned and rubbed the back of this neck. "This is going to be a long weekend."#Draco arrived at Potter’s via the Floo network. He’d expected Potter to still be living at Grimmauld Place, but it was a completely different flat. Draco remembered hearing something about how Potter had sold the house and donated the proceeds to charity.
His new flat was small. Smaller than Draco had expected. He had a sitting room with two sofas, and a Muggle television. The room was attached to a long hallway that lead to the bathroom on the left and bedroom and kitchen on the right. The kitchen had a huge calendar over the icebox and nearly every day was marked off with appointments and social events.
The hallway was full of pictures. Pictures of Potter’s parents, of Black and Lupin, and of all of his friends from Hogwarts. There was barely any room on the wall for something new. Potter was laughing in nearly every picture. It was ridiculous.
"I get it, you’re happy," Draco said, scowling at one of the pictures of him and the Weasley family. It was recent, Draco could tell, Potter’s hair was actually looking…normal. It was also odd that in the picture, Potter was looking at Ginny Weasley almost the entire time it looped around. It was a tender look. Draco was sure he’d heard that Potter and the Weasley girl had broken up because he was a poof, but the picture told another story.
"Hm," Draco said. Maybe he’d investigate it further. What else would he have to do for the rest of the weekend?
It was as if the Gods had it in for him, because just as Draco was beginning to think his bad day couldn't get any worse, the Floo chimed.
"Harry, are you there?" Weasley's voice echoed through the flat, and Draco wished he could become invisible.
"I'm here," he said as he knelt down next to the fireplace. He did his best not to scowl at Weasley's grin.
"What time are you coming over tonight?" Weasley asked.
"What time do you need me there?" Draco said. He'd nearly forgotten that Lovegood had mentioned Draco going to the Burrow instead. So it wasn't going to just be a sit-at-Potter's-flat kind of a weekend. He'd actually have to act like Potter.
"The usual," Weasley said, shrugging.
Great. When the fuck is the usual? "So maybe in an hour? I just got in, and I'll have to take a shower-"
"All right. That sounds good. I'll tell Hermione that you'll be early," Weasley said and severed the Floo connection.
Of course, Potter would never be early...What had Draco been thinking?#Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to arrive at Malfoy Manor. Would Malfoy just Apparate in? Would he take the Floo? He thought about fire-calling Malfoy, and as much as he didn't want to, he knew he had no other choice.
Malfoy, looking like Harry, stepped through the fireplace.
Harry took a long look at himself. "How did you get my hair to be like that..." he said, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair. Except, it was Malfoy's hair, and Malfoy's body; he only looked like Harry.
"Do you mind?" Malfoy sneered and backed away from Harry. "You had a sealed bottle of grapeseed oil in your bathroom cabinet-"
"Oh, right. Ginny had given me that a while ago, but I never got around to using it. I didn't realise it would get my hair to settle-"
"You just have to use two drops, rub them on your palms and then run your hands through wet hair."
Right. Harry took in a deep breath.
Wet hair. Of course Malfoy had showered before coming to see Harry. Which meant, he'd probably seen Harry's body in the mirror afterwards. Now, they'd both seen each other naked in the mirror.
Harry had been quite successful so far in his efforts to not think about the birthmark on Malfoy's right hip. After the shower, he'd only glanced in the mirror, because he thought it'd be rude to stare. Not to mention the Sectumsempra scars and the Dark Mark; if he dwelled on those, it would only open a can of worms Harry wasn't ready for.
Not again.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder about what Malfoy had thought of his body. He'd probably insulted Harry. Malfoy was cut in ways Harry didn't even know were possible, and Harry was an Auror.
Okay, stop thinking about his body, Harry.
As Harry was lost in his thoughts, he didn't realise that Malfoy had approached him and started fixing his collar.
"What are you doing?"
"The collar is crooked."
"It isn't. That's how you always wear it."
Malfoy looked insulted. "I do not."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle. At first, at his own face-he had no idea that's what he looked like when he was shocked-and then at the thought that Malfoy had no idea how he folded his own collar.
"Yeah, I thought that was your style," Harry said.
"There is no style in wearing your shirt collar wrong, Potter," Malfoy said.
"I thought you were trying to be rebellious. Everything else about you is perfect, I mean, on the outside, in a superficial sort of way..." Malfoy made a face at that. "So I thought you purposely had a crooked collar because you were trying to make a point."
Malfoy scowled at him for a moment before he said anything. "Is that what everyone thinks of me?"
"I don't know. I don't talk to other people about you," Harry said, hurriedly.
"I'm hardly perfect," Malfoy said.
"I did say superficially speaking, didn't I?" Harry said and turned to look at his reflection in the mirror. Still seeing Malfoy, of course. "Maybe you can come with me to the Manor."
"What?"
Harry took in a deep breath. "If I can't cancel the dinner with your parents, then maybe you could just come with me. I could tell them that I'm helping you-Harry-on a case and that I asked to you accompany me to be polite." Harry wondered if Malfoy's parents would buy that.
"But I already told your friends that you'd be at the Burrow in..." Malfoy checked his wristwatch, "in twenty minutes."
"Twenty minutes? That's super early. I don't get there until-"
Malfoy groaned, evidently annoyed.
"This isn't a picnic for me, either. I have to sit there across from your father."
Malfoy frowned, but when he didn't retort, Harry thought that he may be genuinely worried about it. This didn't make Harry feel reassured.
"Maybe I should just cancel. Since you are here, you can owl them a letter in your handwriting, and I won't have to put up with the dinner."
"You can't get out of it. My mother will know something is wrong," Malfoy said.
"Something is wrong."
"Perhaps we can tell them that I was hit by a curse while we were investigating, and that you're helping me."
"We were hit by a curse while we were investigating."
"I know that, but we can't tell them what it was. We'll just say that it pains me to talk. I'll owl them now, so they'll know not to bother you too much when you arrive. Just nod whenever my father tells you a story, and smile whenever my mother is speaking."
"This won't work," Harry said.
"I know. My mother will see right through you, but we have to try. You said that we can't tell anyone. If and when she catches you, you'll be the one that will have to deal with her anger."
Harry was almost insulted at that. "I'm an Auror, Malfoy," he said with disdain. "I go on undercover investigations all the time. I will not have a problem, pretending to be you. I'll just walk around like I have a stick up my arse and everyone will think it's business as usual. You're the one who has it easy. You're spending an evening with the Weasleys-"
"And that's easy?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Everyone talks over each other and you could stay quiet for an hour before they'd even notice it. And by that time, supper will be served and you'll be stuffing your face."
"How much do you eat?" Malfoy asked.
"What?" Harry snapped. What sort of insult was this? Did he just imply Harry was fat?
"If I'll be stuffing my face, then I need to know how much you eat."
Oh. Okay, that made sense. Sort of.
"Just take cues from Ron and Hermione. More than Hermione, not as much as Ron, and if Molly puts more on your plate, don't complain. Just give it to Ron. If you don't, he'll know something is wrong."
Malfoy scowled at him. "How can he remain like that if he eats his share and yours?"
Was that a compliment towards Ron? "He works out extra at the Auror gym and runs an hour in the morning and the evening. He's the fittest of them all."
Malfoy nodded once. He scowled again and Harry wondered what he'd done now?
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"I have to go see...someone tomorrow. I mean, Draco Malfoy has an appointment, and I can't cancel."
"Why not?"
"I've cancelled too many times already."
"Who is the appointment with?"
"Never mind that. Just get through tonight."
"Fine," Harry said, annoyed. "You, too."#Draco arrived at the Burrow via the Floo. He had no idea if he was supposed to Apparate there, but he didn't want to risk it. Maybe he could just feign fatigue. When he arrived, no one was there to greet him, except for Mrs Weasley, who seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Harry! You're here!" She rushed towards Draco and wrapped her arms around him. She held him. Tight. Draco hadn't been hugged like that since he was twelve. It was oddly soothing. He tried not to dwell on it.
"I love your hair," she said, and dragged Draco to the kitchen. "Here. Sit." She pointed at a stool in her kitchen and turned to whisk something in a giant pot. "Try this." She shoved a small spoon in front of him, and Draco instinctively opened his mouth to taste the orangy sauce.
"It's good," he managed before she handed him a Muggle fizzy drink and returned to her work.
"I've been trying recipes from that book you gave me last Christmas. I still appreciate it, you know. You're just always so thoughtful-"
"Mum, have you seen the baby-Harry! You're early." George Weasley walked into the kitchen and patted Draco's shoulder. "I didn't believe it when Ron said you were coming by early today. Must have had a rough day with Malfoy."
Mrs Weasley slammed the cover on the pot as if she were trying to shut him up. "George. Where's Fred?"
Draco's heart sank into his stomach. Had the old woman lost it?
"He's sleeping upstairs, Mum. With Angelina. That's why I'm here. I'm looking for the baby bottle."
She handed him something and he kissed her cheek before rushing out of the chair. Baby Fred. Okay, that made so much more sense.
"So Harry, I wanted to talk to you about Ginny-" Ah, here it comes, Draco thought.
"Hey, mate." Weasley, Ron Weasley, walked into the kitchen next and grabbed the fizzy drink out of Draco's hand. "Nice hair," he said and then stayed quiet.
Draco figured that it was his cue to speak. "Yeah. It's that stuff Ginny gave-"
"Hi, Harry," Granger came in next and went straight to the pot that Mrs Weasley had been stirring. "Can I try?" she asked Mrs Weasley who nodded. "Oh, it's delicious."
"By the way, that recipe book was a wonderful gift," Ron told Draco. "Even Hermione's trying out recipes lately."
"Good," Draco said, hesitantly.
"So how was Malfoy?" Ron asked.
"I-uh-fine," Draco managed, hoping he sounded like Potter.
"Still haven't told him then?" Ron asked but didn't wait for an answer. "I still can't believe it. You should just come out and say it. Maybe getting it out will make you finally realise that you're crazy."
"Who's crazy?" Ginny Weasley came into the kitchen next. Draco just couldn't believe how huge the Weasley kitchen was, and how everyone seemed to hang out there.
"Harry," Ron said and caught an apple that Ginny threw at him.
"Oh, still didn't tell Malfoy, then?" She laughed and made her way out of the kitchen and Granger followed.
What was it? What did Potter want to tell Draco that everyone else in the world knew about? Maybe he could get someone to actually say the words, given they didn't seem to have any trouble keeping them in. In the twenty-five minutes Draco had been there, he'd managed to get away with saying the bare minimum.
"Shall I help you with something?" Draco asked. It was the most Potter-like thing he could think of. He still couldn't believe that, of all the pointers he could have asked about spending an evening with the Weasleys, all he'd asked was about his intake of food.
Mrs Weasley took him up on his offer, and Ron and Draco helped his mother set up the table for the whole family. Draco didn't know where anything went so he followed Weasley's actions, and allowed him to talk about their work. Still, he had no idea what everyone had been on about. He couldn't figure out what Potter needed to say to him.
At dinner, Ginny Weasley insisted that he sit next to her, and he couldn't think of an excuse otherwise.
He hadn't expected wine to pour so freely at the table. He'd thought that it was just at his house that they did that. He'd never eaten at someone else's home before, unless you counted Pansy's while he was growing up, but her parents, just like his, had a bit of a drinking problem. Catering to the Dark Lord did that to a wizard.
Draco sipped his wine slowly. It wasn't the best he'd had, but he figured that the Weasley family business must have been doing well for them to have such a fine wine served at dinner. Still, he couldn't help but wonder there was a celebration of sorts going on, though he had no idea what it could be for.
Eventually, Ginny kicked him under the table and he glared at her - almost forgetting who he was.
"What?" he snapped.
She glowered right back at him and gestured towards his wine. He had no idea what she was on about. He noticed that her own glass had barely been touched. He quickly finished off his wine and, when no one at the table seemed to be paying any attention to them, she switched her glass with his.
Draco took a moment to think about this. The only reason he could think of for a woman not to touch her drink, would be if she were pregnant. And the fact that the rest of the people at the table continued to pour wine in her glass was because they didn't know.
Only Potter knew that Ginny Weasley was pregnant. It wasn't his child, was it?
The rest of the dinner, and the drinking of his and Ginny's wine, had left Draco in a daze. Eventually, they moved over to the sitting room to play Muggle board games while Granger helped Mrs Weasley clean up. Draco would have offered to do that, too, but he was too inebriated by that point. He needed to make sure he didn't expose his cover.
In the sitting room, Draco saw the baby, Fred, staring at him very oddly. Oddly for a baby, he supposed. Draco didn't have much experience around babies but something about this little one, the way he was crawling around making everyone smile was too special.
Or maybe he'd just had a bit too much wine, and he was starting to find the baby adorable. If his mother were here, she'd hint at how it was time to settle down and get one of those for himself. As if babies just grew on trees for gay men.
"Hi," Draco whispered to the baby and waved as Fred squealed and made a straight line for him. Draco picked him up, and the baby hugged him immediately. "Oh, you're friendly, aren't you?" Draco said and looked up to see everyone in the room staring at him.
"What?"
"The baby. Usually, you're so afraid of him, and he's afraid of you," Angelina said. It was the first time that evening she'd spoke to him. To Potter, at least. The entire evening she'd been fussing over the tiny little human.
Fred grabbed Draco's nose and squealed again.
Everyone eventually stopped giving him so much attention and the baby rested in Draco's lap as the evening went on. Finally, Angelina came to pick him for his bedtime, and Fred fussed about parting from Draco. He had no idea why Potter had so much trouble with the little thing.
"Thanks for doing that, Harry," Ginny said as she came and sat next to him. She took his hand in her own and squeezed it gently.
"For playing with the baby?" Draco asked, distracted.
"No. You know what I mean," she said, glowering at him.
"When will you tell the family?" Draco asked, struggling to sound concerned, instead of just very interested in satisfying his own curiosity.
"After he tells his friends about us," she said. Draco sighed with relief.
Wait, why did he care if it was or wasn't Potter's child? Draco decided not to dwell on that. He could talk about it with-shite, he couldn't talk about it with Haikah. Not until next Saturday, anyway.
Haikah. Draco completely forgot to find an excuse for him to cancel his appointment tomorrow. Now Potter was going to be there instead of him.
No! This was not happening!
"What's the matter?" Ginny asked, squeezing Draco's hand again. Draco slammed his forehead with the palm of his hand and hit the glasses he was wearing instead. Stupid Potter's glasses. Stupid Potter.
"I just remembered something. I have something to do tomorrow, and I forgot to cancel..."
"But you said you were going to come see me and Blaise tomorrow."
"Blaise?" Draco said with a surprise, and Ginny immediately told him to shush.
Blaise? Are you fucking joking?
Draco had no idea that Blaise Zabini - one of his best friends - had got Weasley pregnant. He didn't even know they were dating, or shagging, or talking, even. Is that what Potter was supposed to tell him? No, that didn't make sense, because Granger and Ron were in on that fact. This was totally new information.
Draco's head spun with confusion.
"Maybe I should go home," Draco said. "I'm tired..." and a little buzzed.
After saying his goodbyes - which took an additional half an hour - Draco finally made his way to the Floo, barely remembering to ask for Potter's place instead of his own flat.
When he arrived, he found himself sitting on the sofa.
"Oh, it's you," Draco said, realising it was Potter. Merlin, this was too much confusion after wine.
"Sorry. I was uh-worried," Potter said.
"Why?" Draco asked, annoyed. All he wanted to do was get "home" and sleep. He needed to figure out the Haikah situation.
"So, um...did you have any trouble?" Potter asked.
"Why, did you?"
Potter shook his head. Merlin, Draco looked at himself and couldn't understand what anyone would see in him. Did he really look that stupid when he shook his head? That was something he was going to stop immediately. Once he got his body back.
"Surprisingly, the night was relatively uneventful. The house-elves greeted me kindly, and then mostly it was your father drinking, insulting them, insulting me-as in Harry Potter- and your mother sending him off to bed. A few times I thought she might have noticed something, but she didn't say anything." Potter shrugged and made his way to the corner of the room where he kept his liquor. "Do you want one?"
Draco shook his head. "I drank enough for two tonight," Draco said.
"Oh, so you know," Potter said, looking alarmed.
"Well, it would have helped if you'd told me my best friend's got your ex-girlfriend pregnant," Draco said. The room was getting dizzy so he all but crashed on the sofa. He figured it was a very Potteresque thing to do; given that he looked like him.
"It wasn't my secret to tell," Potter said.
"And what is your secret to tell?" Draco asked.
"What do you mean?" Potter asked right after he finished his shot of Firewhisky. Draco watched Potter's throat (his throat) as it gulped the drink, his Adam's apple (Draco's Adam's apple) bobbing, and then he licked his lips (Draco's lips). Was it weird to get turned on by watching yourself?
"The entire night, the Weasley clan kept asking me if I told Malfoy...something. I had no idea what you're supposed to tell me, but honestly, I think the Weasleys won't rest until you do."
"Oh. That. Shit." Famous last words before Potter took his leave and left his flat without so much as a goodbye.
Draco would have cared more if he weren't completely knackered. He closed his eyes just for a moment, and before he knew it, he was asleep on the sofa.
READ PART TWO
Author: digthewriter
Rating: ~R
Word Count: 12,800
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Content: Characters might have done questionable things to invade the other person's privacy. Possible OOC. Hints at top!Draco. POV switch. Dream sequences. EWE. Lacking smut.
Summary: After a freak accident, which was totally Potter's fault, Draco has to live as Potter for three days. It isn't a party for Harry, either.
Notes: Originally, I really struggled with this story and thought about dropping out several times. Thanks to my betas Gracerene, and Josephinestone, this story survived and it only got better (IMO). I submitted this to the hd_fan_fair mods a month (and some change) late, and on birdsofshore's birthday -- since it is a prompt by her so technically this is a birthday present for her! If you look closely enough, (for those that would be familiar with the original TZ), I've given a bit of h/t to The Twilight Zone in the fic. I hope you enjoy it. The title doesn't come from anywhere, I really just DID NOT know what to call this fic.
~~~~**~~~~Draco stared at the misty glass, struggling to look at himself in the full length mirror, towel wrapped around his waist. He sighed with frustration and waited for the fog to clear. A set of green eyes stared back at him. At first he scowled, before he realised he was looking at an almost naked Potter. His heart started to beat as though its sole goal was to jump out of his chest.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked the reflection. It just smiled back at him.
Potter smiled back at him and took a step closer. Instinctively, Draco took a step back. "I'm not Potter," he said, "I'm you, Draco."
His towel dropped. Potter wrapped his hand around Draco's shaft - and Draco woke up.~~~~**~~~~We're More Than Ordinary"I'm sorry, gentlemen, there is no cure. You just have to wait it out."
"For how long?" Harry asked.
"What do you mean, wait it out?" Malfoy spat at the same time.
Luna shook her head, but kept her ground. "Two days. I should have my next shipment of the counter-curse potion in two days. You can come back then."
Malfoy scowled at her as if hoping she would budge if he continued staring. Harry, on the other hand, found his resolve melting. It technically was his fault. Even if he wouldn't admit it to Malfoy. Harry had hated this damned Polyjuice case from the beginning.
"What do you suggest we do?" Harry asked, adjusting his tie, and earning a scowl from Malfoy - who looked like Harry. Harry saw himself wearing Malfoy's robes and found it odd that they somehow fit. He could have sworn he and Malfoy were different sizes, but apparently not.
"Live your lives," she said.
"I can't exactly go to visit my parents looking like Potter!" Malfoy grudgingly adjusted his glasses. "You are absolutely bloody blind," he said to Harry.
"Well, Harry, why don't you go to the Manor, and Draco, why don't you go to the Burrow?"
"You have got to be joking!" they both said in unison.
"It's Friday," she said with a heavy sigh. "The potion won't be here until Monday morning, so come back then." She finally stood up from her chair, flicked her wand, and suddenly, their clothes switched. Harry, who now looked like Malfoy, was wearing Malfoy's clothes, and vice versa. He barely had time to process this when Luna squealed.
"Ooh, I'd never actually tried that spell before," she said, actually patting herself on the back. "Now, get out of here."#Things would have been a lot simpler if Potter had let Draco inspect the potion. After all, the man had been after Draco, anyway.
Draco was robbed on an afternoon when he wasn't home. Someone had broken into his flat and stolen his robes and his grooming supplies. Not long after, there had been reports of a man, looking like Draco Malfoy, seen at various establishments, hexing and harming people. Whenever the real Draco left his flat, he was mobbed by the wizarding community; they all thought it was him who'd robbed or hurt them.
Eventually, Draco had to seek out help from the DMLE and, thanks to Draco's luck, Harry Potter had been the Auror assigned to his case.
To make matters worse, the culprit who'd been after Draco, decided to go after Potter, as well.
First, his house was robbed. Draco found it comical that someone not only broke into an Auror's house to steal his robes and hair samples, but that said Auror was also the Saviour of the wizarding world. Next, somebody who looked like Harry Potter was seen taking celebrity photos with wizards, and then stealing their money pouches.
After a thorough investigation, Potter had found the home address of the perpetrator. Unfortunately for them, by the time the man had been caught, he’d already managed to attack both Potter and Draco with the mystery potion.
The phial for the potion was sealed. When Potter tried to open it, Draco had told him to wait. It was Polyjuice, and Potter claimed he was only going to sniff it. He couldn’t open the phial, though. So he’d done what any thick-headed Gryffindor would do, he’d tried to hex it open.
Instead of cooperating, the phials around them burst and a thick smoke surrounded them. By the time things cleared out, Draco was looking at himself. What was worse, though, was Potter was looking at himself, too. The containers had a fail-safe. Evidently, the man who'd had it in for Draco - as business competitor - created a spell that not only damaged the evidence, but attacked the intruder.
They had no idea how long this potion was going to continue affecting them, so Draco had suggested they go see a Healer. Potter didn’t want anyone to know what was happening to them, so they had to go to someone he could trust: Luna Lovegood.
A whole lot of good that did them.**FRIDAY**Harry opened the door to Malfoy’s flat, wary of his surroundings. It was Malfoy’s place, after all. Who knew how he’d have the place boobie-trapped for intruders. Except, Harry wasn’t an intruder, he had a key, and Malfoy’s clothes, his face. His body. Okay, he wasn’t going to think about that.
A house-elf immediately appeared. "You are home, Master Draco," the house-elf said.
"Yes…" Harry said, cautious. "I have a dinner plans tonight," he added after a moment of silence.
"Yes! Pheeny knows all about Master Draco’s dinner engagement at the Malfoy Manor!" the house-elf said excitedly. "Pheeny has all the clothes ready."
"All the clothes?" Harry said, following the house-elf into the walk-in wardrobe. Harry was immediately overwhelmed by the organisation of the wardrobe. Everything was colour-coded, even the shoes, under-shirts, and ties. Harry was glad he could find a clean one that he didn’t have to spell clean, like he would have had to at his house.
If Pheeny was so aware of Malfoy's schedule, then where was he when Malfoy had been robbed?
"Pheeny," Harry said in the haughtiest voice he could muster up-given that he was to sound like Malfoy, "if you are always here, then how was it possible for Mal-I mean me to get robbed?"
The house-elf looked down at the floor in shame. "Pheeny wasn’t careful," the house-elf said, and Harry saw her move just slightly. He knew what was coming next, and just like that, the house-elf started to bang her head against the side wall.
"Pheeny was just out of the house for thirty minutes. Pheeny didn’t secure the wards because Pheeny didn’t know-"
"Don’t-"
"Master Draco is right to punish Pheeny. Master Draco should not have stopped Pheeny last time-"
"No. You need to stop, right now!" Harry roared, and the house-elf immediately ceased the self-flagellation. "It’s okay. I’m sure I’ve told you before. It’s not your fault. I just wanted to know, is all."
The house-elf nodded and snapped her fingers. A moment later, a small glass of Firewhisky appeared in her hand, and she offered it to Harry. "For Master Draco," she said and then disappeared.
Harry turned around and looked at the clothes that were all set up for him. He picked out something that looked expensive and threw it on the bed, and then headed towards the loo; he needed to take a shower. Feeling so lost, he wished he could tell his friends about this, but knew that protocol dictated that he could not. He’d have to write up his report, get Malfoy’s testimony, and file it before he was allowed to discuss the case with anyone else. Wondering how good Malfoy was at keeping secrets, he only hoped that no one would find out.
Stepping into the stall, and missing his shower immediately, Harry groaned and rubbed the back of this neck. "This is going to be a long weekend."#Draco arrived at Potter’s via the Floo network. He’d expected Potter to still be living at Grimmauld Place, but it was a completely different flat. Draco remembered hearing something about how Potter had sold the house and donated the proceeds to charity.
His new flat was small. Smaller than Draco had expected. He had a sitting room with two sofas, and a Muggle television. The room was attached to a long hallway that lead to the bathroom on the left and bedroom and kitchen on the right. The kitchen had a huge calendar over the icebox and nearly every day was marked off with appointments and social events.
The hallway was full of pictures. Pictures of Potter’s parents, of Black and Lupin, and of all of his friends from Hogwarts. There was barely any room on the wall for something new. Potter was laughing in nearly every picture. It was ridiculous.
"I get it, you’re happy," Draco said, scowling at one of the pictures of him and the Weasley family. It was recent, Draco could tell, Potter’s hair was actually looking…normal. It was also odd that in the picture, Potter was looking at Ginny Weasley almost the entire time it looped around. It was a tender look. Draco was sure he’d heard that Potter and the Weasley girl had broken up because he was a poof, but the picture told another story.
"Hm," Draco said. Maybe he’d investigate it further. What else would he have to do for the rest of the weekend?
It was as if the Gods had it in for him, because just as Draco was beginning to think his bad day couldn't get any worse, the Floo chimed.
"Harry, are you there?" Weasley's voice echoed through the flat, and Draco wished he could become invisible.
"I'm here," he said as he knelt down next to the fireplace. He did his best not to scowl at Weasley's grin.
"What time are you coming over tonight?" Weasley asked.
"What time do you need me there?" Draco said. He'd nearly forgotten that Lovegood had mentioned Draco going to the Burrow instead. So it wasn't going to just be a sit-at-Potter's-flat kind of a weekend. He'd actually have to act like Potter.
"The usual," Weasley said, shrugging.
Great. When the fuck is the usual? "So maybe in an hour? I just got in, and I'll have to take a shower-"
"All right. That sounds good. I'll tell Hermione that you'll be early," Weasley said and severed the Floo connection.
Of course, Potter would never be early...What had Draco been thinking?#Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to arrive at Malfoy Manor. Would Malfoy just Apparate in? Would he take the Floo? He thought about fire-calling Malfoy, and as much as he didn't want to, he knew he had no other choice.
Malfoy, looking like Harry, stepped through the fireplace.
Harry took a long look at himself. "How did you get my hair to be like that..." he said, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair. Except, it was Malfoy's hair, and Malfoy's body; he only looked like Harry.
"Do you mind?" Malfoy sneered and backed away from Harry. "You had a sealed bottle of grapeseed oil in your bathroom cabinet-"
"Oh, right. Ginny had given me that a while ago, but I never got around to using it. I didn't realise it would get my hair to settle-"
"You just have to use two drops, rub them on your palms and then run your hands through wet hair."
Right. Harry took in a deep breath.
Wet hair. Of course Malfoy had showered before coming to see Harry. Which meant, he'd probably seen Harry's body in the mirror afterwards. Now, they'd both seen each other naked in the mirror.
Harry had been quite successful so far in his efforts to not think about the birthmark on Malfoy's right hip. After the shower, he'd only glanced in the mirror, because he thought it'd be rude to stare. Not to mention the Sectumsempra scars and the Dark Mark; if he dwelled on those, it would only open a can of worms Harry wasn't ready for.
Not again.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder about what Malfoy had thought of his body. He'd probably insulted Harry. Malfoy was cut in ways Harry didn't even know were possible, and Harry was an Auror.
Okay, stop thinking about his body, Harry.
As Harry was lost in his thoughts, he didn't realise that Malfoy had approached him and started fixing his collar.
"What are you doing?"
"The collar is crooked."
"It isn't. That's how you always wear it."
Malfoy looked insulted. "I do not."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle. At first, at his own face-he had no idea that's what he looked like when he was shocked-and then at the thought that Malfoy had no idea how he folded his own collar.
"Yeah, I thought that was your style," Harry said.
"There is no style in wearing your shirt collar wrong, Potter," Malfoy said.
"I thought you were trying to be rebellious. Everything else about you is perfect, I mean, on the outside, in a superficial sort of way..." Malfoy made a face at that. "So I thought you purposely had a crooked collar because you were trying to make a point."
Malfoy scowled at him for a moment before he said anything. "Is that what everyone thinks of me?"
"I don't know. I don't talk to other people about you," Harry said, hurriedly.
"I'm hardly perfect," Malfoy said.
"I did say superficially speaking, didn't I?" Harry said and turned to look at his reflection in the mirror. Still seeing Malfoy, of course. "Maybe you can come with me to the Manor."
"What?"
Harry took in a deep breath. "If I can't cancel the dinner with your parents, then maybe you could just come with me. I could tell them that I'm helping you-Harry-on a case and that I asked to you accompany me to be polite." Harry wondered if Malfoy's parents would buy that.
"But I already told your friends that you'd be at the Burrow in..." Malfoy checked his wristwatch, "in twenty minutes."
"Twenty minutes? That's super early. I don't get there until-"
Malfoy groaned, evidently annoyed.
"This isn't a picnic for me, either. I have to sit there across from your father."
Malfoy frowned, but when he didn't retort, Harry thought that he may be genuinely worried about it. This didn't make Harry feel reassured.
"Maybe I should just cancel. Since you are here, you can owl them a letter in your handwriting, and I won't have to put up with the dinner."
"You can't get out of it. My mother will know something is wrong," Malfoy said.
"Something is wrong."
"Perhaps we can tell them that I was hit by a curse while we were investigating, and that you're helping me."
"We were hit by a curse while we were investigating."
"I know that, but we can't tell them what it was. We'll just say that it pains me to talk. I'll owl them now, so they'll know not to bother you too much when you arrive. Just nod whenever my father tells you a story, and smile whenever my mother is speaking."
"This won't work," Harry said.
"I know. My mother will see right through you, but we have to try. You said that we can't tell anyone. If and when she catches you, you'll be the one that will have to deal with her anger."
Harry was almost insulted at that. "I'm an Auror, Malfoy," he said with disdain. "I go on undercover investigations all the time. I will not have a problem, pretending to be you. I'll just walk around like I have a stick up my arse and everyone will think it's business as usual. You're the one who has it easy. You're spending an evening with the Weasleys-"
"And that's easy?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Everyone talks over each other and you could stay quiet for an hour before they'd even notice it. And by that time, supper will be served and you'll be stuffing your face."
"How much do you eat?" Malfoy asked.
"What?" Harry snapped. What sort of insult was this? Did he just imply Harry was fat?
"If I'll be stuffing my face, then I need to know how much you eat."
Oh. Okay, that made sense. Sort of.
"Just take cues from Ron and Hermione. More than Hermione, not as much as Ron, and if Molly puts more on your plate, don't complain. Just give it to Ron. If you don't, he'll know something is wrong."
Malfoy scowled at him. "How can he remain like that if he eats his share and yours?"
Was that a compliment towards Ron? "He works out extra at the Auror gym and runs an hour in the morning and the evening. He's the fittest of them all."
Malfoy nodded once. He scowled again and Harry wondered what he'd done now?
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"I have to go see...someone tomorrow. I mean, Draco Malfoy has an appointment, and I can't cancel."
"Why not?"
"I've cancelled too many times already."
"Who is the appointment with?"
"Never mind that. Just get through tonight."
"Fine," Harry said, annoyed. "You, too."#Draco arrived at the Burrow via the Floo. He had no idea if he was supposed to Apparate there, but he didn't want to risk it. Maybe he could just feign fatigue. When he arrived, no one was there to greet him, except for Mrs Weasley, who seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Harry! You're here!" She rushed towards Draco and wrapped her arms around him. She held him. Tight. Draco hadn't been hugged like that since he was twelve. It was oddly soothing. He tried not to dwell on it.
"I love your hair," she said, and dragged Draco to the kitchen. "Here. Sit." She pointed at a stool in her kitchen and turned to whisk something in a giant pot. "Try this." She shoved a small spoon in front of him, and Draco instinctively opened his mouth to taste the orangy sauce.
"It's good," he managed before she handed him a Muggle fizzy drink and returned to her work.
"I've been trying recipes from that book you gave me last Christmas. I still appreciate it, you know. You're just always so thoughtful-"
"Mum, have you seen the baby-Harry! You're early." George Weasley walked into the kitchen and patted Draco's shoulder. "I didn't believe it when Ron said you were coming by early today. Must have had a rough day with Malfoy."
Mrs Weasley slammed the cover on the pot as if she were trying to shut him up. "George. Where's Fred?"
Draco's heart sank into his stomach. Had the old woman lost it?
"He's sleeping upstairs, Mum. With Angelina. That's why I'm here. I'm looking for the baby bottle."
She handed him something and he kissed her cheek before rushing out of the chair. Baby Fred. Okay, that made so much more sense.
"So Harry, I wanted to talk to you about Ginny-" Ah, here it comes, Draco thought.
"Hey, mate." Weasley, Ron Weasley, walked into the kitchen next and grabbed the fizzy drink out of Draco's hand. "Nice hair," he said and then stayed quiet.
Draco figured that it was his cue to speak. "Yeah. It's that stuff Ginny gave-"
"Hi, Harry," Granger came in next and went straight to the pot that Mrs Weasley had been stirring. "Can I try?" she asked Mrs Weasley who nodded. "Oh, it's delicious."
"By the way, that recipe book was a wonderful gift," Ron told Draco. "Even Hermione's trying out recipes lately."
"Good," Draco said, hesitantly.
"So how was Malfoy?" Ron asked.
"I-uh-fine," Draco managed, hoping he sounded like Potter.
"Still haven't told him then?" Ron asked but didn't wait for an answer. "I still can't believe it. You should just come out and say it. Maybe getting it out will make you finally realise that you're crazy."
"Who's crazy?" Ginny Weasley came into the kitchen next. Draco just couldn't believe how huge the Weasley kitchen was, and how everyone seemed to hang out there.
"Harry," Ron said and caught an apple that Ginny threw at him.
"Oh, still didn't tell Malfoy, then?" She laughed and made her way out of the kitchen and Granger followed.
What was it? What did Potter want to tell Draco that everyone else in the world knew about? Maybe he could get someone to actually say the words, given they didn't seem to have any trouble keeping them in. In the twenty-five minutes Draco had been there, he'd managed to get away with saying the bare minimum.
"Shall I help you with something?" Draco asked. It was the most Potter-like thing he could think of. He still couldn't believe that, of all the pointers he could have asked about spending an evening with the Weasleys, all he'd asked was about his intake of food.
Mrs Weasley took him up on his offer, and Ron and Draco helped his mother set up the table for the whole family. Draco didn't know where anything went so he followed Weasley's actions, and allowed him to talk about their work. Still, he had no idea what everyone had been on about. He couldn't figure out what Potter needed to say to him.
At dinner, Ginny Weasley insisted that he sit next to her, and he couldn't think of an excuse otherwise.
He hadn't expected wine to pour so freely at the table. He'd thought that it was just at his house that they did that. He'd never eaten at someone else's home before, unless you counted Pansy's while he was growing up, but her parents, just like his, had a bit of a drinking problem. Catering to the Dark Lord did that to a wizard.
Draco sipped his wine slowly. It wasn't the best he'd had, but he figured that the Weasley family business must have been doing well for them to have such a fine wine served at dinner. Still, he couldn't help but wonder there was a celebration of sorts going on, though he had no idea what it could be for.
Eventually, Ginny kicked him under the table and he glared at her - almost forgetting who he was.
"What?" he snapped.
She glowered right back at him and gestured towards his wine. He had no idea what she was on about. He noticed that her own glass had barely been touched. He quickly finished off his wine and, when no one at the table seemed to be paying any attention to them, she switched her glass with his.
Draco took a moment to think about this. The only reason he could think of for a woman not to touch her drink, would be if she were pregnant. And the fact that the rest of the people at the table continued to pour wine in her glass was because they didn't know.
Only Potter knew that Ginny Weasley was pregnant. It wasn't his child, was it?
The rest of the dinner, and the drinking of his and Ginny's wine, had left Draco in a daze. Eventually, they moved over to the sitting room to play Muggle board games while Granger helped Mrs Weasley clean up. Draco would have offered to do that, too, but he was too inebriated by that point. He needed to make sure he didn't expose his cover.
In the sitting room, Draco saw the baby, Fred, staring at him very oddly. Oddly for a baby, he supposed. Draco didn't have much experience around babies but something about this little one, the way he was crawling around making everyone smile was too special.
Or maybe he'd just had a bit too much wine, and he was starting to find the baby adorable. If his mother were here, she'd hint at how it was time to settle down and get one of those for himself. As if babies just grew on trees for gay men.
"Hi," Draco whispered to the baby and waved as Fred squealed and made a straight line for him. Draco picked him up, and the baby hugged him immediately. "Oh, you're friendly, aren't you?" Draco said and looked up to see everyone in the room staring at him.
"What?"
"The baby. Usually, you're so afraid of him, and he's afraid of you," Angelina said. It was the first time that evening she'd spoke to him. To Potter, at least. The entire evening she'd been fussing over the tiny little human.
Fred grabbed Draco's nose and squealed again.
Everyone eventually stopped giving him so much attention and the baby rested in Draco's lap as the evening went on. Finally, Angelina came to pick him for his bedtime, and Fred fussed about parting from Draco. He had no idea why Potter had so much trouble with the little thing.
"Thanks for doing that, Harry," Ginny said as she came and sat next to him. She took his hand in her own and squeezed it gently.
"For playing with the baby?" Draco asked, distracted.
"No. You know what I mean," she said, glowering at him.
"When will you tell the family?" Draco asked, struggling to sound concerned, instead of just very interested in satisfying his own curiosity.
"After he tells his friends about us," she said. Draco sighed with relief.
Wait, why did he care if it was or wasn't Potter's child? Draco decided not to dwell on that. He could talk about it with-shite, he couldn't talk about it with Haikah. Not until next Saturday, anyway.
Haikah. Draco completely forgot to find an excuse for him to cancel his appointment tomorrow. Now Potter was going to be there instead of him.
No! This was not happening!
"What's the matter?" Ginny asked, squeezing Draco's hand again. Draco slammed his forehead with the palm of his hand and hit the glasses he was wearing instead. Stupid Potter's glasses. Stupid Potter.
"I just remembered something. I have something to do tomorrow, and I forgot to cancel..."
"But you said you were going to come see me and Blaise tomorrow."
"Blaise?" Draco said with a surprise, and Ginny immediately told him to shush.
Blaise? Are you fucking joking?
Draco had no idea that Blaise Zabini - one of his best friends - had got Weasley pregnant. He didn't even know they were dating, or shagging, or talking, even. Is that what Potter was supposed to tell him? No, that didn't make sense, because Granger and Ron were in on that fact. This was totally new information.
Draco's head spun with confusion.
"Maybe I should go home," Draco said. "I'm tired..." and a little buzzed.
After saying his goodbyes - which took an additional half an hour - Draco finally made his way to the Floo, barely remembering to ask for Potter's place instead of his own flat.
When he arrived, he found himself sitting on the sofa.
"Oh, it's you," Draco said, realising it was Potter. Merlin, this was too much confusion after wine.
"Sorry. I was uh-worried," Potter said.
"Why?" Draco asked, annoyed. All he wanted to do was get "home" and sleep. He needed to figure out the Haikah situation.
"So, um...did you have any trouble?" Potter asked.
"Why, did you?"
Potter shook his head. Merlin, Draco looked at himself and couldn't understand what anyone would see in him. Did he really look that stupid when he shook his head? That was something he was going to stop immediately. Once he got his body back.
"Surprisingly, the night was relatively uneventful. The house-elves greeted me kindly, and then mostly it was your father drinking, insulting them, insulting me-as in Harry Potter- and your mother sending him off to bed. A few times I thought she might have noticed something, but she didn't say anything." Potter shrugged and made his way to the corner of the room where he kept his liquor. "Do you want one?"
Draco shook his head. "I drank enough for two tonight," Draco said.
"Oh, so you know," Potter said, looking alarmed.
"Well, it would have helped if you'd told me my best friend's got your ex-girlfriend pregnant," Draco said. The room was getting dizzy so he all but crashed on the sofa. He figured it was a very Potteresque thing to do; given that he looked like him.
"It wasn't my secret to tell," Potter said.
"And what is your secret to tell?" Draco asked.
"What do you mean?" Potter asked right after he finished his shot of Firewhisky. Draco watched Potter's throat (his throat) as it gulped the drink, his Adam's apple (Draco's Adam's apple) bobbing, and then he licked his lips (Draco's lips). Was it weird to get turned on by watching yourself?
"The entire night, the Weasley clan kept asking me if I told Malfoy...something. I had no idea what you're supposed to tell me, but honestly, I think the Weasleys won't rest until you do."
"Oh. That. Shit." Famous last words before Potter took his leave and left his flat without so much as a goodbye.
Draco would have cared more if he weren't completely knackered. He closed his eyes just for a moment, and before he knew it, he was asleep on the sofa.
READ PART TWO