Switch me, witch! | By : KBowman Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Rating – NC-17
Characters – Hermione/Draco
Summary – Hermione tries to ‘switch’ Draco’s personality for
a nicer one, but the spell switches his body for hers and vice versa.
Disclaimer – I don’t own anything here except the plot.
Everything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K.Rowling and associates.
Author Note –
I’ve never written for Hermione before, but I didn’t want to go down the whole
‘It’s their seventh year and Hermione suddenly rebels for no reason’ route, so
I… didn’t. Enjoy!
Switch me, witch!
Chapter one – Toil
and trouble
‘Hermione, this probably isn’t a good idea.’ Harry said. ‘I
can put up with Malfoy being a bastard for one more year, he’s not that bad.’
‘I don’t care what you say, I’m tired of hearing him making
sly comments and trying to curse you when you’re not looking.’ Hermione said
calmly. She pinched a little lacewing essence between her fingers and added it
to the steaming cauldron in front of her in the common room.
It was their seventh year at Hogwarts and Hermione was
undoubtedly the best witch in the whole school. She was head girl, along with
Harry, and had dated Ron for a few terms, until they had decided that it was
just too weird and really, they felt more like sister and brother than lovers. Now
she was throwing herself whole heartedly into studying for their NEWTS, and
would have been spending this particular afternoon doing just that in the
library, but earlier that day she and Harry and Ron had passed by Draco Malfoy
and narrowly missed the jinx he threw at them when they turned away. Of course
it had been aimed at Harry, but Hermione had decided enough was enough. Someone
had to do something about Malfoy, even if it did mean using magic against him,
something she shouldn’t have been considering at all.
‘Look, Malfoy’s not that dangerous. He’s never actually hurt
us…’ Harry said, sliding off the window sill and joining her on the floor. ‘I’d
be more worried if it appeared he could actually hit me.’
‘That’s not the point Harry.’ Hermione said, stirring the
hissing potion gently. ‘One day he might get lucky. Anyway, the snotty bastard
has a terrible personality. You can’t blame me for wanting to lighten it up by
a few shades.’
‘Well, no.’ Harry admitted. ‘But still, what if you get
found out? Snape’ll go crazy, not to mention Dumbledore…’
‘Harry. Stop it.’ Hermione said. She added three drops from
a silver flask and the potion bubbled suddenly and turned orange. ‘Look, I’m
not going to corner him in front of the whole school and make him drink it, am
I? I’ll just slip it into his goblet at dinner tonight. He won’t even notice,
and then tomorrow he’ll wake up and be exactly the way he is now, only nicer.’
‘So, majorly different then?’
‘Ha ha. Pass me that horned toad.’
That evening the three of them went down to dinner like
normal. Hermione noticed Harry glance at her a few times and she caught his
eye, smiling. She wasn’t about to get found out, and she knew exactly what she
was going to do, so there was no need for him to worry, but she couldn’t say
anything in front of Ron. Her ex-boyfriend was seriously wary of the
relationship she and Harry had now that they were the Head boy and girl, and
he’d probably flip out if he knew they’d been making plans to improve Draco
Malfoy and not included him. She didn’t want to hurt Ron’s feelings but as they
had gotten older, Ron had become steadily klutzier and klutzier, until Hermione
had an unconscious tendency to walk a little behind him in case he knocked
anything over. Involving him would just make the entire thing more risky.
‘Hey Granger! How’re your mudblood parents?’ Draco’s voice
called out suddenly, and Hermione fought the urge to simply run over and punch
him. He did this so often it was getting easy to ignore him, but ignoring him
didn’t deter him. As the three of them walked past the Slytherin table she
heard Draco get up and swiftly move towards her. Changing direction she turned
and met him halfway. He stopped too close, standing right up against her, close
enough so that if she breathed out they would be ped aed against each other –
and he knew it. He knew the effect he had on her, and although she hated
herself for it, she couldn’t stop her breathing from quickening and her cheeks
from turning pink. Her head barely came up to his chin and she was face to face
with his broad, muscular chest. She looked up at him defiantly, hoping he
couldn’t tell from her flushed cheeks and wide eyes that he was turning her
knees to jelly.
‘Granger.’ He said silkily, and she felt her legs quiver.
Damn him. ‘You should know to answer me when I ask you something.’
‘My parents are fine, thank you Malfoy.’ She snapped,
wanting to step back and unable to. He shifted on his feet and she caught a
wave of his masculine scent. She licked her lips and tried to concentrate.
‘Come on, Granger, don’t be impolite. I better teach you
some manners.’ He took her arm and steered her towards the Slytherin table.
‘Say hello to my friends then. Nicely.’
She tried to shake her arm free and couldn’t. Draco pushed
her forwards and she stumbled, then regained her balance. The Slytherin’s
jeered, and in a fit of rage she tore her arm away from him.
‘Get off me Malfoy.’ She hissed. He grinned at her, and
shoved her forwards suddenly. She fell against the chair where he had been
sitting and in that split second realised she could pour the potion in his
flask and no one could see… she leaned forwards, pretending to lose her
balance, and just as Malfoy’s hand landed on her shoulder she had trickled a
little of the potion from the flask inside her sleeve into his cup. Then she
was being whipped around, managing to slip the flask back out of sight just as
she saw Malfoy pull out his wand…
‘Leave her alone Malfoy!’ They both looked around and saw
Harry and Ron striding towards them, wands out. Hermione slipped away from
Draco’s side in that moment and went to the two boys. Harry glanced at her
worriedly.
‘Did he hurt you?’ He asked in a low voice.
‘No. I’m fine.’ She whispered, and seeing the question in
his eyes, replied; ‘I’ve done it. Let’s just go.’ Harry looked up at Malfoy,
seething.
‘You shouldn’t have laid a hand on her, Malfoy. If you’d
hurt her…’
‘Don’t worry Potter; I wasn’t about to get her blood on my
robes.’ Malfoy leered at them. ‘They get dirty enough in Quidditch practice; I
don’t need any extra mud on them…’
At this Ron and Harry both moved forwards, faces dark with
fury, ready to curse Malfoy into the ground, but Hermione gripped their sleeves
and pulled them back insistently.
‘Just leave it already!’ She hissed at them, trying not to
see the way Malfoy was gazing at her, all blond hair, blue eyes and nonchalant
bad… Harry stepped back finally and with one last dirt look at Malfoy he and
Ron turned and stalked off to the Gryffindor table. Hermione hurried after
them, forcing herself not to look back to see if Draco had sat down, perhaps
picked up his cup, perhaps taken a sip…
‘When will it start to work?’ Harry asked her in a low voice
when she sat down beside him. She shrugged>
>
‘I’m not sure; apparently it takes a few hours to take
effect. There probably won’t be any change in him till tomorrow.’
‘Looking forward to it.’ Harry said grimly, and cut into his
chicken leg so vigorously that Ron spent the rest of the evening picking meat
out of his hair.
‘Hermione, pass the jelly would you?’ Ron nudged Hermione a
little too roughly and her elbow slipped off the table. The small flask that
had remained hidden in her sleeve slipped out suddenly and flew across the
table, snapping open. Drops of the potion spattered onto the white cloth and
fizzed for a moment before Hermione snatched at the flask and tucked it back
into her cloak before Ron could get a close look at it.
‘What was that, ‘Mione?’ He asked suspiciously. She laughed
a little too loudly and rubbed at the table cloth with her sleeve, erasing the
evidence of the potion.
‘Oh, that? Just…. Sherbet.’
‘Sherbet?’ He said doubtfully. She nodded.
‘Sherbet. Fred and George sent me some, from their shop. It…
fizzes.’
‘Okay.’ He said, but his tone was still suspicious and
Hermione started digging into her dinner quickly before he could get a good
look at her face.
Harry glanced up at the two of them and was about to
interrupt when something caught his eye. Hermione’s cup, half-full of pumpkin
juice, was fizzing slightly. He peered at it as two bubbles edged over the side
and trickled down the side, and his eyes widened in understanding. Some of the
potion must have gotten into her drink… Then he saw Hermione reach out and pick
the cup up. For a second he sat there, his brain trying to think straight, and
then he reached out and yelled.
‘Hermione, don’t!’ He went to knock the cup from her hand,
realising he was too late. She had already raised it to her lips and just as
his hand connected with the goblet he saw some of the orange liquid slip
between her lips. Then the cup flew from her hands and everyone was staring at
him.
‘Err… It was… It had… gone off.’ He improvised. Ron made a
disbelieving noise.
‘Gone off? Harry, it’s fresh from the kitchens, it can’t
have gone off already.’
‘It was… looking mouldy.’ He said desperately, trying to let
Hermione know what he was thinking. She stared back at him, and then shook her
head in disbelief. To Harry’s horror she stood and picked up her bag.
‘I don’t know about you two but I’m too tired for this. I’ll
see you two tomorrow; I just want to go and get some sleep.’ She blew them a
kiss, and then walked off. Harry stared after her for a long moment and then
came to a decision. He couldwronwrong about the potion. There was no need to
worry her. And anyway, being a little nicer wasn’t going to hurt anyone, least
of all Hermione, was it? She’d probably be happier, he thought suddenly.
Weren’t nice people happy people? Yeah. So it was probably best just to leave
it. They’d know if she was different in the morning anyway. Yeah, he’d leave
it. It’d be okay.
Hermione threw her bag the the corner of her Head girl’s
room and sank onto the bed happily. There was nothing nicer than being able to
sleep alone, she decided, unless you counted coming back to a cool bed with
crisp sheets. She undressed quickly and slipped between the sheets naked,
ng tng the feel of the smooth sheets on her skin. She started to drift off
almost immediately and soon enough her thoughts slid drowsily towards the day’s
events. What she’d done. She grinned into the pillow. Tomorrow Draco Malfoy
would hopefully wake up a nicer person, and then the three of them could
finally stop watching their backs for curses. Sure, people might be a little
suspicious, but it wasn’t like people couldn’t change.
Draco’s face appeared in her head and she squashed it
instantly. No. She wasn’t going to think about him. He was… he was bad and he
had tormented her and Harry and Ron and there was no way she could the the way
she… but then a vision of him lounging gracefully in the great hall against the
wall swam across her mind. A few days ago, when the weather had been unbearably
hot and she had walked past him… he hadn’t been wearing a cloak, none of them
had, only black trousers and a shirt… the top buttons undone so that she could
see his smooth, broad chest, not white and not tanned but deliciously in the
middle.
She turned over impatiently. Now she was awake again. Damn
Malfoy, he shouldn’t be keeping her awake. She realised almost guiltily that
the reason she was awake was because the familiar ache between her legs was
back, and it wasn’t because of Ron. She turned over again, trying to ignore her
own body. Damn Malfoy, damn him to hell, why did he have to be so… so… her eyes
flickered closed as she pictured him, tall and muscular, sexy as hell, blond
hair in his eyes, one hand twirling his wand… and then the picture changed
before she could help herself and it was still Malfoy, still Draco, but his
tall, muscular, sexy body was stretched out besides hers and his blond hair was
brushing past her eyes, and his hands, oh his hands, his hands were on her
naked skin, caressing her, massaging her breasts firmly, sliding between her
thighs and dipping into her most secret place, swirling around the sensitive
flesh there and making her gasp aloud…
She sat up and shook her head vigorously. No. No, this was
wrong. Draco Malfoy was the enemy and whilst fantasising might be harmless, it
was just too much. She shouldn’t. She should be thinking about Ron, or one of
the other Gryffindor guys. Even Harry would be better than Draco Malfoy she
thought, but the imademade her giggle rather than sigh. Harry was her best
friend now and the thought of him making love to her didn’t turn her on, it
just made her laugh.
She put a hand to her forehead. She felt a little dizzy
actually… and when she looked up to try and see the clock on the far wall the
room tipped and she put out a hand blindly, squinching her eyes shut to try and
make the rocking feeling subside. Instead it doubled and she curled up into a
foetal position, moaning. This was worse than the time she and Ron had
experimented in their sixth year with vodka shots, she thought unhappily. She
certainly felt drunk right now, or at least like if she stood up she’d fall
over and if she sat up she’d be sick. Drums started in her head and she
groaned. Opening her eyes, she caught a brief glimpse of her bedroom wall, and
then everything went grey, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
On the other side of the school in his Slytherin Prefect’s
room, Draco Malfoy tossed in his sleep and frowned. His dreams were interrupted
by a swirling feeling but he didn’t wake. He turned over once more and then
subsided.
The next morning Draco woke as usual before his alarm clock.
He didn’t really need the clock, but it had been a present from his grandfather
and his own father insisted that he at least take it to school, even if he
persisted not to use it. Truth was, Draco had his own internal alarm and had
woken at seven every day for the last three years. The alarm clock only served
now a stable thing in the mornings; an expected sound, like the familiar
creaking of the stairs or the swish of his curtains.
This morning however something felt wrong. He lay on his
back, eyes closed, waking slowly, trying to grasp whatever it was. Things came
to him slowly. Noeze eze – he never closed his windows at night, it must have
been a house elf. No familiar snoring from he room next to his, which must been
Goyle was already up, and that was unheard of before eight. Draco frowned, eyes
still closed. And his alarm wasn’t ticking. It went off every morning without
fail half an hour after he woke, so why couldn’t he hear the tick? His eyes
opened and he sighed. One of the other boys must have taken it. He didn’t want
to have to curse someone this early in the morning – it gave him a headache to
have to concentrate so early – but it looked like he’d have to.
He sat up… and drew in his breath sharply. This wasn’t right
at all. The curtains around his bed were green. These curtains were red with
gold edging. And this wasn’t his bed, he now realised. It was all wrong, too
soft, too many pillows. His hair brushed his face and he pushed it back
impatiently… and then stopped. Frozen, his eyes wide, he slowly pulled a strand
of his hair in front of his eyes. Then with a strangled yell he scrambled out
of the unfamiliar bed, tearing the curtains wide and looking around the strange
room until he spied a mirror on the opposite wall. Rushing over he swung it
round and…
It was like some incredible dream. He actually pinched
himself to make sure he wasn’t still asleep. Staring back at him from the
mirror, her long, curly hair swishing around her shoulders, bare skin smooth in
the morning sunlight, was ry nry naked Hermione Granger.
Draco stood there for a long moment, trying to grasp what he
was seeing. At first he stepped back, expecting Hermione to stay where she was.
Instead, the reflection also stepped back, an after a long pause he realised
that she was mimicking movements. It was then that he looked down at himself.
‘Oh shit…’ He whispered. This wasn’t exactly what he had
been expecting. Mirror mirages were one thing, looking down to discover that
you were suddenly female was another entirely. He backed over to the bed and
sat down, almost afraid to touch his… new body.
No doubt it was Hermione’s body, he thought, and looking
around the room he realised this was her Head girl’s room. Now the red curtains
made sense – the whole room was decorated in her house colours. But the room
wasn’t important right now. What was
was that he seemed to be inside her body, anlly lly in control.
Not that she had a bad body. He had to admit he was
surprised by how toned and slim she was. Underneath those robes she could have
been Ms. Piggy for all he knew, but now it seemed she had been hiding a pretty
hot body. He ran his – her- hands over his stomach, amazed by the taut muscles,
and couldn’t stop himself cupping the perfect globes of her breasts. Gods, she
was so soft… A sound outside the door made him tense the muscles in her legs
and prepare to flee if possible, but then he recognised it for the creak of a
stair and relaxed. That brought something pressing to his mind, and he walked
quietly over to the door to see if there was a lock. Luckily there was, a thick
bolt, and he slid it home noiselessly. He didn’t want some Gryffindor girl
bursting in until he had worked out what to do about this. As much as being
inside Hermione’s body might prove to be fun, it raised the issue of what had
happened to his body. Was it lying in
his bed, sound asleep? Or was Hermione in his position, waking to discover that
she had some things she definitely didn’t fall asleep with? He wondered whether
she’d panic instantly, or do as he had and shut herself in until she could
figure what had happened.
He looked down at his new hands. She had pretty hands, he
had to admit. He hadn’t noticed before, but they were slim and pale and
delicate. He was almost afraid to flex the fingers in case they snapped.
Draco got up and walked back to the mirror. He’d heard the
question before – ‘if you were the opposite sex for one day what would you do?’
– But he’d never seriously considered the answer. Now he saw why the common
answer was to constantly masturbate – the urge to touch himself was
irresistible. Hermione’s body was seriously incredible and he gazed at the
reflection hungrily. His, or her, hands trailed light patterns over Hermione’s
breasts and he shivered – no wonder girls liked you to pay attention to them.
It was only a shame he couldn’t try using his mouth on her breasts – she wasn’t
small, but she also wasn’t well-endowed enough for that bit of gymnastics. He
slid her hands down to the downy curls at the point where her thighs crossed,
and was suddenly nervous. He was no virgin, but he had no idea whether Granger
was – he supposed her and Weasley might have progressed that far but he didn’t
think so. It felt almost wrong somehow to touch her, even if he was temporarily
– he hoped – in control.
Then he shook the feeling off. He had no idea how long
whatever this was, spell or trick, might last, so he might as well do some
exploring. Granger wouldn’t know. He parted her legs slightly and put his
finger against her opening. Immediately he stifled a gasp at the rush of warmth
through his body. Yes, she was a virgin all right; there was no other
explanation for how sudden her pleasure was. He moved his finger up to her clit
and touched it carefully, pressing gently and experimenting until he discovered
how she must like it. A hiss of breath escaped his lips. He could feel a warm
pressure building in Hermione’s belly and he desperately wanted to make her
body cum, if only to see if it really was different for girls. He knew all the
girls he had ever bedded had cum with him – he had made sure of it – but it
wasn’t the same as actually being in the same body as the girl having the
orgasm, he was sure of that. He pressed down again on her sensitive flesh and
felt himself start to reach the edge. Gods, she was… it was… he rocked her hips
forwards and was rewarded with a burst of heat, and suddenly he was about to…
‘Hermione? Are you awake?’ A female voice came from outside
the door and Draco stood hurriedly, and then relaxed. The door was locked after
all. He grabbed a dressing gown that was hanging on the door, silently regretful
that he hadn’t had time to cum. Hermione’s body was flushed and he could
clearly feel the throbbing ache between her legs.
‘Who is it?’ He called, slightly amused, but not surprised
when the voice he heard come out his mouth was Grangers.
‘Me, Lavender. Harry asked me to see if you were up yet, he
wants to talk to you I think, he didn’t say what about…’
Draco sighed and rubbed Hermione’s forehead. Potter. Just
what he needed. He should have snuck out as soon as he’d realised what where he
was; he should have known some Gryffindor would want to see their Head Girl
soon enough. Stupid of him, he needed to get to Slytherin and see what his body
was up to, and besides, he had no idea how Hermione and Potter reacted to each
other. For all he knew, last night they’d had an in depth discussion and
decided that they wanted to get married and have three kids, but he wouldn’t
know until Potter said something and he failed to pick up on it. All right…
best to do some lying in this situation.
‘I’m sorry Lavender, I feel terrible. My head hurts and I
think I might throw up… can you tell P… Harry I won’t be in lessons please?’ He
held Hermione’s breath nervously. How was he meant to know how Granger
sounded?
‘Are you okay? Do you want me to get you anything?’ Lavender
said anxiously and Draco breathed out. She only sounded worried, not
suspicious.
‘No, I just want to go back to sleep. Thanks.’ He added.
‘Okay, I’ll tell him. Hope you feel better soon.’ Lavender
called, and then Draco heard the blissful sound of her walking away. Now he had
to get out himself. But he’d just spread the lie that Hermione was sick so he
couldn’t be seen, not now anyway. Shame he didn’t have Potter’s invisibility
cloak, he could just walk to Slytherin… Looked like a chameleon spell would
have to do for now. He looked round and saw Hermione’s wand on her desk. He
picked it up and examined it briefly. Not bad. She kept it clean at least.
‘Chameleonicus Visbilius.’ He said quietly, aware that
people could be passing by the door and hear. A shiver ran through Hermione’s
body and he tucked the wand into her gown pocket, then checked the mirror to
see if the spell had worked. Sure enough, he had faded into the background, and
it was only by focusing hard and waving at himself that he managed to pin point
Hermione’s body in the mirror. Grinning, he unlocked the door and crept out
onto the stairs.
In Draco Malfoy’s room in the Slytherin dormitory, Hermione
Granger stirred and turned over in her sleep, unaware that the body she was
sleeping in was tall, blond, and very obviously male. Frowning in her sleep,
her eyelids flickered… and then remained closed. She slept on, until a hand
reached out and stifled the alarm clock about to ring next to her head, and she
woke to find herself looking into her own eyes.
------ ------- ------- ------- -------- ------- --------
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Author Note –
Well, what did you think? Want to it to go on? Want to find out what happens
when Hermione discovers what’s happened? There’s only one way you’ll find out,
and that’s if you REVIEW! If not, I’ll think no one wants more and then what
would be the point in writing more? *Insert Cheshire cat-style grin here.*
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