Hermione woke with a pounding headache. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the bed sheets over her head, letting a low groan escape her lips. Oh, what a row she and Ron had gotten into last night! [I think the title says it all.]
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/4090/
DISCLAIMER: JK ROWLING owns the characters in this story.
NOTE: Okay okay…I don't usually post stories until I'm finished. But I need some help on this one people. (I've been staring at my shoes and braiding my hair for about an hour now staring at the computer!) I've had HORRIBLE writer's block as of late and I can't seem to finish ANY stories! Please tell me if I should axe this one or keep it going, and if so…where the heck should I go from here? I certainly like the idea…but I'm at a loss for words literally.
ALSO: This story can get a bit confusing. Please review to let me know if it's too much so.
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Hermione woke with a pounding headache. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the bed sheets over her head, letting a low groan escape her lips. Oh, what a row she and Ron had gotten into last night! What a spectacle they surely had been! All of Gryffindor would probably be talking about it today in the Common Room, if they weren't already!
Pulling the sheets back down, she peered across the room. She choked on a gasp as she watched Harry emerging from the four poster bed across from her.
“Harry!” As soon as the words escaped her lips, she threw her hand to cover her mouth. Was that my voice? It was so…so…familiar. But definitely not hers! And definitely not female!
Harry merely continued across the room and ignored her, scratching his head as he shuffled off with a towel in hand. She watched as he stooped over his trunk, selecting a few articles of clothing for himself.
Harry's trunk? So I….I'm in….the boy's dormitory?
Harry looked up at her quizzically, “Well aren't you gonna get up, Ron? You aren't skipping another shower are you?”
Ron? RON!
Her thoughts became muddled, and confused…but mostly…furious! She leapt from bed and began pacing the room, “That blockhead! He must have….he…oh he was always horrible at magic! He might as well have been trying to turn Scabbers yellow again!” Between words, she chewed frantically on her lower lip and stared down at her long, lanky arms - which were covered in red hair.
“Ron? Are you sick, mate?”
Hermione stopped suddenly and looked horror stuck at Harry. Then, she let her eyes travel downward until they settled on her bare feet. Gross! Well, those definitely aren't MY too-short pajama trousers! Her eyes wandered higher until she could take it no more and squeezed them shut, lifting her arms and placing her hands on top of her head.
This is HIS fault! I just know it is!
She looked up at Harry once again as he shook his head and smiled, “Still upset with Hermione then?”
“Her-? Oh yes, Hermione…right…that…that...she's such a…” she began shaking her fist in the air, in mock anger.
At these words Harry's eyes narrowed, “Now Ron, this is Hermione we're talking about here! She's our friend.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you're right,” she croaked. The words felt scratchy in her throat and she tried clearing it over and over with rough `Ahems' but nothing seemed to help.
“Come on then, a shower might settle your thoughts a bit,” Harry said, walking away toward the door.
“Oh, a shower, yes….”
A shower! Her mind raced. With Harry?! As Ron!!!?
“Actually, I think I'll skip today, mate. I ought to see if Ro…Hermione is in the Common Room yet.” With that, she raced off down the stairs, pulling a jumper over her worn pajamas as she went.
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Ron woke to the sound of girls giggling. Giggling? Am I dreaming? Rolling over and propping himself up on his shoulder, he rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. Three girls were entering the room, freshly showered and laughing.
“Hermione, aren't you going to get up?” It was Parvati.
“Yeah, what's wrong? All that fighting with Weasley last night tire you out?” And Lavender.
Hermione….Weasley? What's going on here? Just then, he reached up to scratch his head. It's definitely much too early to be thinking! Hold on a sec… Feeling his scalp more closely, he wondered aloud, “Bushy hair?”
“Oh, finally you've noticed! Well, maybe now you'll do something about that rat's nest, Hermione!”
Again, his muddled mind could comprehend only one word…Hermione…!
Standing, he looked down at his night dress…night dress? Throwing his arms over his head, he ran screaming out the door toward the stairs…
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“Hey, Ron. Still in your bed clothes mate?” It was Seamus…quick, think of something to say Granger!
“Er…yeah, for luck…you know…since we won yesterday and all…it's a superstitious thing…”
Just then a familiar voice echoed from the staircase opposite them, screeching like a banshee. Suddenly, she saw herself fly into the common room, arms waving wildly, acting like a madwoman.
“Ro…Hermione!” Damn, I'm gonna have to get used to this… “Hermione! Calm down,” she yelled, chasing after Ron. Finally, she grabbed him by his elbow and spun him around to face her. When his now brown eyes rested on what was obviously his own face, his entire body went slack and he merely stared, open mouthed. Hermione pulled him aside, away from the staring students, and began whispering harshly, “Ron! You idiot! What on earth are you doing?”
“H-Hermione?”
“Yes! Of course!” She shifted her weight and propped her fists on her sides, glaring at her disheveled self. “What, in Merlin's name, have you done to us Ronald?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you! It had to be you! This has to be your fault!”
Scrunching his eyebrows, Ron pouted, “I didn't do anything, Hermione! The last thing I remember is fighting last night, right here in the common room!”
Hermione chewed her lip and thought, “Yes…that's the last thing I remember too…then the next thing I know Harry's telling me to shower with him…”
Ron watched her face…well, his face actually…he had somewhat of a wistful look about him….he didn't like the looks of that face at all. Especially when she was talking about Harry of all people! In his body!
“Hermione, get a grip…you have to figure this thing out. We need to go back to being ourselves!”
“I realize this Ron, but we can't exactly skip classes or anything!”
“We can't?”
“No,” she said sternly, “I'll just have to wait until this evening when I can go to the Library and do some research.”
“Research? In the Library? In that body? My body? You've got to be joking Hermione, I can't be seen in the Library!”
“Ron, do you want to stay in my body forever?”
“Of course not!”
“Then shut up! Listen…we'll just have to act like nothing's wrong, Harry can't know…he's already got enough to be going on with.”
“Right.”
“Alright then…don't be late to class.” They both turned and began heading back to their respective dorms, then Hermione paused and spun around toward him on her heel, “One more thing,” she hissed, “you better make sure those eyes are closed when you're changing my robes, Weasley!”
Ron gulped. He hadn't thought of that… “Well, you better do the same then,” he sneered.
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Hermione sat next to Harry in the Great Hall, smiling brightly at him. He looked at her, puzzled, and then continued eating his breakfast. Soon, Ron came strolling awkwardly into the Hall. Hermione had never seen herself from this perspective before and she dearly hoped that wasn't how she normally walked.
“Good morning, everyone,” Ron squeaked in a high pitched tone as he took a seat across from them. Hermione winced and kicked his shins under the table. “Ow!”
Harry looked up at Ron, and then over again at Hermione…she smiled. As Harry turned his attention back to his food, so did Ron. He began loading his plate, as was his usual custom, and began shoveling food into his mouth. Hermione put a hand on her forehead and shook it softly from side to side, “You are such a pig,” she mumbled, her voice deep.
Harry peeked up slightly to look at Ron once again, a confused look on his face.
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Hermione watched as her un-showered, un-brushed self walked into Transfiguration five minutes late. She shot a hateful glare at Ron as he sat down behind her, Harry at his side. As she was shaking her head and beginning to turn back around, she noticed that Harry was looking at Ron….or her...Ron in her body. Not exactly looking…more like staring! Blushing, she turned back to face the front of the classroom.
Is Harry staring at ME? Oh, if only Ron hadn't dressed to horribly today! I mean…I never make robes look that bad…do I?
Hermione raised her hand as often as she usually did in class, and each time she felt Ron kick the back of her chair. He kept making loud coughing noises to get her attention. He got McGonagall's instead, “Is something wrong Miss Granger?”
“No, nothing at all,” chirped Ron again in his mock girly voice. After class Hermione yanked him aside, practically slamming him into the castle wall.
“Ron, my voice is already a girl's voice. Stop making that stupid high pitched voice!” she gritted her teeth. “Oh, sorry,” was all he said.
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After lunch in the Great Hall, they went outside to lounge on the grass. Hermione busied herself with her homework and Ron sat down on a rock, unwrapping a napkin filled with some crumbs he had left over from lunch. Hermione sat watching him make a complete disgrace of her in front of Harry. He had yanked his robes off earlier and now sat wearing a pleated skirt and her oldest, ugliest jumper. He sat with his legs apart munching on pieces of corn bread. Hermione's face burned with anger.
“Are you alright, Mate?” Harry asked, looking intently at him.
“Sure. Fine.”
“What are you doing with Hermione's bag?”
“Oh…er - we must have switched them by accident,” she fumbled, zipping the bag and flinging it away from her. Then she watched as Harry glanced toward Ron who was slapping his stocking-clad knees together and humming. It was like watching a mentally challenged version of herself, and all she could do was look on in horror as Ron continued to make her look like a fool. She looked back over at Harry and saw him still watching Ron with his mouth open. Her head turned back toward Ron and she saw what Harry was staring at; Ron wasn't exactly being modest wearing her skirt. Turning back to Harry she gasped, clapped a hand over her mouth and slapped him across his cheek.
“Ow! Ron! What's the big idea!?” Ron toppled off of the rock where he had been perched and rolled around on the grass laughing…in Hermione's body. He looked like a complete fool. Harry was staring again, but now he held a hand to the reddening side of his face.
Hermione jumped up and grabbed Ron by his wrist, yanking him up from the ground with strength she didn't know she possessed. Turning away from where Harry stared at them both, she rasped into his ear, “Would you mind not making me look like….like some sort of…Scarlet Woman!”
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Hermione was looking over Harry's shoulder in the Common Room reading his essay for their History of Magic class. When he twisted around to look up at her and asked, “What are you doing Ron?” she jumped. Desperately, she tried to think of something to say in Ron-ish, “Homework sucks,” she said, thumping her fist into her open palm. Then she hurried from the room and headed for the Library.
Once there (after receiving a quizzical look from Madame Pince) she pulled stacks of books from the shelves and began poring through them…..
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((((Please review, otherwise I don't know if I'll continue this story. Anybody interested in finishing it for me, feel free to do so. But please email me so I don't torture myself over it any longer.))))
NOTE: Well, nobody seems too keen to take on this little project. So I'm making a go at it. Wish me luck and I hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you were all so nice and encouraging!
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Hermione was looking over Harry's shoulder in the Common Room reading his essay for their History of Magic class when he twisted around to look up at her and asked, “What are you doing Ron?” she jumped. Desperately, she tried to think of something to say in Ron-ish, “Homework sucks,” she said, thumping her fist into her open palm. Then she hurried from the room and headed for the Library.
Once there (after receiving a quizzical look from Madame Pince) she pulled stacks of books from the shelves and began poring through them…..
She hadn't been there for more than 15 minutes when Ron dashed into the Library with a disheveled look about him. This whole endeavor wasn't doing much for Hermione's self esteem…Ron seemed to always make her look much more horrible than she actually was…at least, she hoped. When he reached her usual table, breathing heavily, she glared up at him, “What is it Ronald?” A few students turned their heads, “Er - I mean, Hermione.”
Clutching a hand to a stitch in his side, Ron plopped himself down across from her, gulping like a fish out of water. Hermione waited, tapping her fingers agitatedly on the table. Finally, he gasped, “Quidditch!”
“What!?”
“Tonight…practice,” he breathed.
“Oh, you've got to be kidding me…if you think…”
“Hermione, please!”
“No way. There's no way. I'll just tell them I'm sick.”
“But tomorrow…it's the match against Slytherin! If you don't go to practice tonight, I won't be eligible to play tomorrow!”
“Well, that's your problem then! If I don't figure this out tonight, you won't be playing at all!”
“Please, Hermione. I'll stay here and try doing a bit of research…you have to go!” The lines on his forehead crinkled in despair….she wondered if that was an expression she wore often. Sighing, she gave in, “Oh all right then…but I'm not going to kill myself over it!”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ron said, jumping up from his seat, “I really appreciate this Hermione…I know how much you hate flying.”
Hermione was touched. Ron had never shown appreciation towards her before…but then again, this was Quidditch. “Oh honestly, how hard can it be?”
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“Um, Ron, that's my broom,” came Ginny's voice from behind her.
“Oh, right…I was just holding it for you,” Hermione said, thrusting the broom toward her, “And…mine would be…? Oh…here it is….yes, I see it now….those letters are so tiny…c-l-e-a-n-s-w-e-e-p….mmmhmm….this is definitely mine…got it.”
“Ron, are you alright?”
“Fine. Just can't stand being on the ground, you know…want to be up there flying as soon as possible! Yep!” She puffed out her chest and thumped it with her fist, hoping to look manly.
Ginny rolled her eyes and left the storage shed. Hermione wondered if she should fill her young, red-haired friend in on the situation…later, perhaps.
Okay now….let's see…first year. Madame Hooch. What was it she said…?
Hermione placed one leg over the broomstick, gave a funny little hop and shot like lighting into the air. Gripping the handle, she pulled as hard as she could…this only seemed to make it go higher. After completing a few lopsided barrel rolls, she managed to get the broom under control and swung it back around toward the Quidditch pitch, which seemed to be a long way off. She must have flown farther than she thought. Harry sat on his broomstick in the air staring at her. She smiled and waved, slipping sideways slightly as she drifted toward the goal hoops. When she had put some distance between herself and the others, she rubbed her hoarse throat (she must have been screaming) and cursed quietly to herself, “…Stupid broom…this has to be…the dumbest sport….I've ever heard of.”
After an hour of flopping helplessly about, chasing after the Quaffle to no avail, she heaved a sigh of relief when Angelina ended practice early, “Right then, you lot look horrible. I can't imagine another half hour helping much. Get some rest. Oh and Ron…Ron!”
“Oh - er - yeah, that's me.”
“Try not to look like such a git tomorrow, please.”
“Right, thanks.”
As she made her way up the lawn toward the castle, Harry trotted up and walked beside her, “Everything alright, Mate?”
“Um, yeah. I just have a lot on my mind, Harry.”
He snorted and said, “You? A lot on your mind, eh?”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, seizing the moment, “I'm usually such a big, stupid, ridiculously insensitive thickhead, aren't I!?”
Harry stopped, gripped her shoulder, and looked at her, “Ron…?”
“What?”
He shook his head and kept walking, “Maybe a game of Wizard's Chess might cheer you up then,” he said with a smile.
“Er - not tonight Harry. I think I should spend some time in the Library.” Harry looked at her for a second, eyebrows raised, then continued walking without saying a word.
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“What do you mean you don't know?”
“Uh, well…I just don't, alright!”
“Jeez Hermione, you don't have to get all snotty…it was just a question.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know the difference between an Abraxan and an Aethonan?”
“Because you're Hermione Granger, that's why!”
Ron gathered his books and made to leave, “Shove off!” As he walked briskly towards the exit, Pansy Parkinson came around the corner and sneered, “Look who it is, everyone,” she said to a group of Slytherin girls beside her, eyeing Ron, “Don't you shower anymore, Mudblood?” Ron continued walking but Pansy stuck her foot out just as he went by. He tripped over it, sending books and papers flying. Laughter echoed through the Library as he stood up, brushing off his robes. Casually, he stepped forward so that he was directly in front of Pansy, who was doubled over with spasms of giggles. When finally she looked up, “Yes?” he reached his arm back and brought it forward rapidly, punching her square on the nose. She flopped onto the floor, hand over her nose as she went. Her bum hit the cold stones with a satisfying smacking sound. Ron crossed his arms triumphantly, standing over her as little tears began forming in the corners of her eyes.
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“Detention!?” Hermione was pinning him to the wall outside of the Common Room.
“Big deal!”
“Ronald! You can't just go around punching people in my body!”
“She deserved it! She called me…well you actually, a Mudblood!”
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, “Ron, she always says that. But that doesn't mean you can just hit people whenever you feel like it!” They were both quite for a moment and she let go of his robes, letting him slump against the wall. Finally he asked, “Where's Harry?”
“He's in the Common Room. He wants me to play chess with him, but I said no.”
“You said no?”
“Ron, we're supposed to be figuring this thing out!”
“But you said you didn't want Harry worrying about us…and if you don't play, he'll think something's up!”
“You're right,” she said, biting her lip, “But won't he be suspicious if I keep losing?”
“Just tell him you're sick or something.”
“Okay…but you have to promise to keep researching!”
“Of course, I promise…”
“Right…okay then…wish me luck.” Ron gave her a thumbs-up as she disappeared back through the Portrait Hole.
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Harry was sitting solemnly staring at his hands, the chess board idle in front of him.
“Right then, ready to play?”
Harry looked up, surprised, “I thought you didn't want to play?”
“Oh you know me…when do I ever say no to kicking your bum at a game of chess?” Harry's eyes narrowed, “You're on, then!”
In her head, she thanked Merlin for the summer after their fourth year when she had been holed up with the Weasleys at Grimmauld Place. Between cleaning, they had passed the time playing endless hours of chess. She wasn't that bad…it was, after all, a game of logic. Between moves, she chewed her lip and scrunched her eyebrows together. Finally, Harry said, “Stop it.”
“Stop what,” she asked, not looking up from the board.
“Stop chewing your lip, it's driving me crazy!”
“It is?”
“It reminds me of Hermione!”
“Oh…she…she drives you nuts then?”
“In a way, I guess.”
“Oh,” she said, advancing her knight. After a few more moments of silence, Harry continued, “Well…not nuts, really…she's just…distracting, some of the time.”
“Distracting?”
“Well, you know, she's Hermione.”
“She's doesn't distract me.”
“She doesn't? Oh…you mean…you don't…”
“What?”
“Well, you don't think,” he paused, turning slightly red, “You don't think Hermione's pretty?”
“Er - well, sure. She's alright,” she tried to sound calm as her heart leapt within her chest.
“Yeah, she is.” There was more silence, during which Hermione captured two of Harry's pieces, demolishing them. He was obviously distracted. Then he chuckled lightly, “You were screaming like a girl earlier, at practice.”
“Oh was I?” Hermione laughed nervously.
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Later, Hermione ran to the Library and joined Ron at one of the small tables near the high windows. Rain was streaking down the glass, “Good,” she whispered, “Maybe they'll cancel Quidditch tomorrow.”
“Let's hope, because I can't seem to find anything about this in these books! We'll never change back.”
“Oh, don't be such a ninny. We'll find something.” For some reason, she couldn't stop smiling.
“Chess went alright then?”
“Um…chess…oh, yes, chess! It was great. Fine. It was fine.”
An hour later, Ron was slumped onto the table in front of him; asleep. His face was pressed between the pages of a think, dusty book. Hermione made a mental note to find a good cleansing charm before the night was through. If this problem was going to persist, she might as well make sure Ron was presentable in her body.
She sat back, stretching her arms above her head, and thought. After a few moments of inconclusive deliberation, she reached out and shook Ron's shoulder. Mumbling, he sat up, rubbing his eyes, “What?”
“What was it we were arguing about last night?”
“I don't remember,” he said, laying his head back down on top of his folded arms.
“Ron!” she demanded, slapping his arm lightly.
“Oh rats, Hermione! It was just something stupid!”
“What if it had something to do with our little situation?”
Ron sat up straighter and looked at her, “Maybe you're right.”
“Of course I'm right. I'm always right!”
“Well,” he said, scratching his thick, curly mane of hair, “You said something like `Ron, do your homework!' and I said `Hermione, shut your trap!' Yeah, that's about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I'm not sure, Hermione, I'm tired.”
“Well, think!”
“Alright, alright. Hmm, let's see…you said I should try harder in school or else I won't get anywhere after we leave Hogwarts. Something about how all I ever think about is Quidditch. `Quidditch this and Quidditch that,' you said. And I said, `Professor Trelawney was right third year when she said your mind was hopelessly mundane.'”
“Well, that doesn't seem to help at all…gah,” she blurted, stomping her feet, “It still makes me so angry when I think of Trelawney saying that. What a…ooog, I could just…”
“Hermione, chill out.”
“Right, sorry. Well, I guess we'll just have to read up on this some more tomorrow. We're obviously not going to get anywhere tonight.”
“Okay. G'night then,” he yawned, making his way out of the Library.
“Goodnight, Ron.”
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(((Sorry that this chapter isn't so exciting. Hope it's entertaining anyway! I'll try to keep updating!)))