AN: In this story, our beloved Golden Trio are in their Seventh Year. The hunt for Horcruxes happened in their Sixth Year, Dumbledore is dead, Snape is with the Death Eaters, and Harry still has to find two more Horcruxes. 

From a single line of pine trees that separated the furthest Hogwarts grounds and the Forbidden Forest, a plump barn owl stretched his claws on the branch it rested on. It opened its orange wings and dove off.

The castle was a shadow of black, giving no evidence that life existed inside. The sky was barely transitioning from a hazy navy to a blast of vibrant orange as the sun was beginning to wake, barely beginning to stretch its rays of heat and send them peeking out of the collection of looming clouds.

Continuing to fly with its wings set wide apart, the small and hefty owl shot up; the wind guiding its wings took him straight to the outline of one of the tallest towers. And as it did so, as it was preparing to set off for its morning duty, it caught sight of someone through a particular window. And by what it saw, it stopped suddenly.

Inside Gryffindor Tower, imprisoned inside the curtains of her four-poster, was a brunette that thrashed in the tangle of ruby sheets.

By what the owl was seeing, far more interested in what was happening to that brunette who huffed, tossed, grunted, and made expressions of pain, it knew perfectly well that in a secluded dungeon in the levels below of the castle, there was a blond experiencing the same thing.

It knew the dungeon was dark, but with a tint of emerald that gleamed with suffocation. Away from the common room, away from the leather furniture, from the dimness of it, from the lack of heat, up the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories, on the floor for Seventh Years, the second door on the right, there the blond was.

The four-poster was rimmed with dark curtains. Tangled in emerald sheets, sweat dampening his forehead, the blonde looked in pain as he slept. He grunted, moaned in misery, and kicked.

Though the barn owl could only see the girl, it knew that both  were withering the same way. Flashes of memory, echoes of words, emotions running low, recalls of boiling blood all mixed into some sort of nightmare behind their closed eyelids.

'Hermione Granger — GRYFFINDOR!' There was applause echoing in her head, welcoming smiles from those students with the lion crest.

'Draco Malfoy — SLYTHERIN!' The hat had barely touched his head, but he was sorted right where he wanted to be; right where he was demanded to be.

'And you must be Miss Granger. Yes, Draco's told me all about you and your parents. Muggles, aren't they?' They both tossed in their beds, the girl and the boy, as the memory of books and sounds of people crowded into a small shop invaded them next. They were both silent, both watching Lucius Malfoy cast his .

'At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.' She had seen him emerge out of the group of Slytherin Quidditch players; a sneering look on his annoying face as he had walked up to Harry. She turned in her sheets, remembering the way she scowled and look disbelieving that they would be so unethical as to let him in under questionable circumstances.

'No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!' He groaned in his sleep, his brows furrowing as he could see behind his closed eyelids how judging her eyes were; how she stuck her nose and chin up in defense for her pathetic excuse of friends and it infuriated him.

'He called me a Mudblood — it means dirty blood. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is muggle born. Someone with non-magic parents, someone like me.' She clutched onto her pillow, feeling the wretched feeling of a past hurt in her chest. She remembered her eyes watering, feeling appalled for herself; even a little embarrassed and ashamed of herself.

'See the thing is, there's some wizards, like the Malfoy family, who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pureblood.' She let the grip on her pillow loosen as she relaxed a little in her sleep, a wave of gratitude for Hagrid invading her system as she could see the shadow of his face explaining how she was no less because of the status of her blood.

'Enemies of the Heir Beware? You'll be next, Mudbloods.' There was blood, he could still see it clearly as if it had been yesterday; as if he was not asleep and he was back in his Second Year.

But for a second, scrunching his nose like he could still smell the blood on the marbled wall, it disappeared. A flash of Slytherin's common room crossed his dreams; Goyle and Crabbe in front of him as he explained what his father had divulged. 'My father did say this; it's been fifty years since the chamber has been opened—The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So it's only a matter of time before one of them is killed this time. As for me, I hope it's Granger.'

'You! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!' Holding her breath, almost feeling the wind that resided outward, past the leaves of the trees surrounding them, she felt like she was making her way towards him and his stupid leering face.

He stopped fidgeting between his sheets, his heart thumping as he saw the brunette and her stupid angered face heading towards him. He could see himself, four years younger, about to throw another insult when — SMACK.

She continued to hold her breath, her heart settling in her sleep as the memory of satisfaction filled her up again; despite the painful sting of her hand. 'That felt good.'

In that moment, in the moment that flashback of the brunette striking the blonde was over, it was like all those flashes of memory sped up and blurred. It flew past them, making their hearts bang inside their chest as many more insults echoed in their eardrums, all of it sounding faraway. Faces and expressions twisted and turned, anger and hatred scraping by them when all of a sudden a loud scream echoed inside their heads — and then, it stopped.

When eyes opened and came to life inside the Gryffindor Tower, the barn owl knew that the same thing had happened in the Slytherin Dungeons. And knowing what was going to happen next, it flew away.

X

Draco Malfoy snapped his eyes open, bolting upright from his bed as an echo of a gut-wrenching scream was still sounding off inside his memory.

He was heaving air now, trying to settle his heartbeat, his blood, and some sort of emotion he thought he had buried away. It was a dream — no, a series of dreams. He saw himself like if he was a third party, an outsider in every single recall of memory that took over his sleep. He could see himself from a young age growing meaner, growing angrier, and growing more arrogant. Then there was a swirl of flashbacks passing him by, and there were more emotions than anger and hatred.

"No," he breathed to himself, shaking his head and not allowing himself to go there.

In the process of trying to collect himself, to settle himself, he decided that going to wash his face with cold water would drive away what'd just happened to him in his sleep. He gripped onto the sheets, about to yank them away from his body when he stopped for a second.

His eyebrows knitted together, the material in his grasp was ruby red instead of his silky emerald sheets that his mother had bought for his dorm three years ago. And for a second, just as he was contemplating the change of blankets, he saw his hand — it was small. His hand was smaller, less pale, delicate looking, and his wrist had a woven bracelet with a Gryffindor Lion dangling down.

He shot himself backward, further into the back of the marble wall. And as he did so, he managed to kick off the ruby sheets around him; exposing his legs. His eyes widened, he was wearing purple shorts, and those weren't his legs!

Creak.

He stopped breathing for a second, the door of the dormitory opening silently; like someone was trying to make their way out or in discreetly and undetected.

Squeak. Squeak.

He inhaled through his nostrils, slowly reaching out for the red curtains surrounding his four-poster and sliding it completely open. And after he did so, a single ray of sun poked itself into the dormitory from the window; giving some light to what was just shadings and outlines. Expecting to find his dorm-mates, he was startled backwards again as all that was spread on the three others beds were girls — with the same ruby sheets.

Squeak.

"Oh!" With a loud murmur, the person that was walking about the dormitory turned towards him; brown eyes looking a little surprised.

Draco frowned with all his might.

"I'm sorry," the girl breathed, taking a shaky and silent step towards him; looking behind her shoulder to make sure she hadn't woken the others. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I thought all of you were asleep."

He didn't say anything, he just watched her with a murderous glare on his face. He was about to destroy her; what the hell had she done to him?

"I know what you're thinking," the girl sighed, noticing the frown as she began to pull off her Gryffindor robes, "I shouldn't have been out all night, especially with all that danger out there, but can you do me a favor?" And not giving him a chance to even open his mouth, the girl added, "Please don't mention it to anyone, Hermione? I just had something to take care of, and I don't need Lavender asking me about it."

At that, at the way that dark-skinned girl spoke to him, at the way she looked at him like they were friends, like she was expecting compassion from him, at what she'd called him, he shot up from the bed. And as he did so, as the girl before him shot open her eyes at his sudden move, he could see himself in her dark orbs.

"Granger!" He shouted, and launched himself towards the dormitory door.

X

She was sitting at the edge of her disgruntled bed, inhaling in; exhaling out; inhaling in; exhaling out in that way that she'd taught herself for emergencies like these. Which, in her irritated mind, has happened quite often since her Fifth Year; something that no one has seemed to notice but has been exhausting her.

It was anxiety, she had established that much, but containing it was decreasingly difficult every time she went into a panicked mode and her body started hyperventilating; making her go completely numb and tingly. It always felt like she was going to lose her mind, with the way her body threatened to shut itself off when she became too stressed or when she recounted the feel of evil spells on her body.

She shook her head, not letting that memory come into her mind. That scream, that memory of screaming that had transformed into a nightmare in her sleep had been that cause of her waking up like she was about to die from suffocation. No, she just couldn't think about it anymore.

She rose up to her feet, disregarding the tussled mess of her sheets that she made. And as she began walking towards the restroom, she stumped her toe on a trunk; letting out a muffled curse. She frowned, kicked the trunk due to that flicker of annoyance, and looked around her. The dormitory was darker than usual. She couldn't see her fellow Gryffindors in their beds but their shadows and the lumps of dark of their bodies. She rolled her eyes, proceeding on her way as she just figured Lavender was in her 'beauty sleep' mode and was making the entire dormitory suffer by the lack of sun.

Twisting the handle for the cold water, Hermione let it run for a few seconds as she chose to do another round of her breathing exercises. She honestly needed to figure out how to subdue her little moments of anxiety before Harry and Ron noticed them. They had been worried for her since the summer after their Sixth Year when they were hunting Horcruxes — when she had been taken hostage by Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Enough," she snapped at herself, forbidding herself from going back to her nightmare.

Huffing once to herself, she stuck her hands underneath the running cold water and collected some of it between her palms. She bent down towards the sink, splashing the water onto her face. When the water touched her skin, she felt like an automatic distraction from all her previous distress had snapped into her; helping her with putting herself together.

After a few more splashes, she turned the faucet off. She grabbed an emerald towel that was hanging nearby, not really knowing whose it was, but certain that they wouldn't mind. She brought the towel to her face, and as she patted herself with it, she inhaled the smell of something musky; of something icy and minty. She knitted an eyebrow, pulling the towel back and examining it.

"Hmm, that's strange," she spoke to herself in a murmur, certain that she recalled that scent from somewhere. Choosing to ignore it, however, she hung it back up and turned to the mirror, deciding to start getting ready since she was not going to sleep again—

"Argh!" She shouted, staring wide-eyed at the glowing silver eyes reflecting off the mirror. With a frantic heart beat going off again, she hurriedly thought of a nonverbal spell and the restroom lit up with light.

Forgetting the fact that the walls of the restroom where black instead of a normal shade of marble; that every towel was emerald and had the crest of Slytherin on it instead of the fluffy towels with the Gryffindor colors; spotting razors instead of finding girl toiletries, Hermione looked ready to combust at the reflection in the mirror.

It wasn't her.

Staring back at her were silver eyes instead of her brown ones; her long curls were gone, instead she had blonde, ragged hair; she was tall; her face pointed; and her body was that of a boy's. She placed a shaking arm on the exposed chest, finally realizing that she'd been walking around in only black pajama pants.

"Malfoy," she hissed to herself, her dread doubling as she headed out of the bathroom in a hurry.

X

Neither of them knew exactly where they were going, but they both made it out of stranger common rooms and ran as fast as they could. The corridors and many floors of Hogwarts were silent and empty due to the fact that the sun was barely coming out and every student hung onto every precious minute of sleep before long lessons and annoying teachers. Their bare feet slapped against the cold floor, not looking back, not caring about anything as they continued down an unknown path they were on.

And for what seemed like five minutes of nonstop running, from either ends of a corridor, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy realized that they were about to stop by the Potions dungeon; the last place they'd spoken to one another. And from opposite ends, they spotted each other.

"—You!"

"—Granger!"

Meeting in the middle, right outside Professor Slughorn's classroom, two enemies looked ready to start a battle to the death as they could see their bodies inhabited by the person they most hated in the planet.

"What did you do, Malfoy?" Hermione shouted at the Slytherin disguised as her.

"What did I do?" He snapped back at her, his blood boiling as his own face flashed hatred at him. "What did you do, Granger?"

She grunted, looking ready to kill. "Don't act innocent, Malfoy, this has evil prat written all over it!"

"Why the hell would I rob you of your body, Granger?" Draco retorted, taking a heated step that was much lighter than what he was accustomed to. But not paying any attention, or bothering to think that he never noticed how feather-like the brunette's steps were, he reached out and grabbed his own arm; gripping it tightly. "Undo whatever the hell you and your idiot friends did to me!"

Not flinching at the death-grip Malfoy had on her, due to a lack of strength that her own body had, she narrowed his silver eyes at the Slytherin. "If we wanted anything to do with you, Malfoy, you wouldn't be walking around this castle like a damn prince," she snapped. "On, the other hand, you and your twisted friends would gain so much out of impersonating me. And because that's so, you're the one who do this."

"I didn't do anything," he hissed at her, letting the arm go. "I woke up and was inside your filthy body, Granger."

Hermione frowned, feeling her fist twitch and ready to aim a slap to his face. But as she resisted the urge, she looked down at the hands that didn't belong to her. "...I was dreaming about you," she said to him, her voice sounding distant as if she was calculating something. "I dreamt of everything you've ever said to me," she looked up at him now, watching as her own face looked confused and slightly surprised. "It was all a blur, but you were there. And then, I woke up and I was in your body."

"Brilliant, Granger," Draco said through his anger, ignoring for the time being that they'd dreamt of the same thing. "So, your obsession with me morphed you into my body, is that it? If you desperately desired me, you could've just said so. There was no need to hijack my body."

Knowing that her own body was going to bruise, Hermione rose Malfoy's fist and punched the arm of the body he was living in. "Look, you insufferable ferret, this is a serious problem. We're in each others' bodies! How the hell are we going to fix this?"

But before Malfoy could say anything, there was a clink, clink, clink on the marbled flooring of the corridor. And like it was déjà vu for herself, Aphrodite Venus appeared outside the Potions dungeon; this time not bothering to hide herself from the two students.

She stepped out, dressed in another set of white robes, her navy blue staring directly to the two faces mixed with panic, confusion, and a lot more fear. "Isn't it a bit early to be roaming the castle?"

Hermione shifted on her borrowed feet. She felt a pull to the woman, like her magic was calling her in. There was a force about Aphrodite that uneased Hermione, that made her slightly scared, even.  

"Forgive us, Ms. Venus," a she said this, Hermione could only hear Malfoy's voice bounce off the walls. "We, erm...We were just discussing our, erm, final Potions project."

Taking a step back from the woman, hating that sense like her aura was powerful and throwing him off, Malfoy gave the Ministry Official a blank, rude look. He wasn't going to explain himself to her, she was nobody.

Ms. Venus raised an eyebrow at the brunette, not looking stirred or irritated by the arrogant look on the girl's face. "I suggest you wrap it up then, Mister Malfoy. You two ought to head back to your own common rooms."

And right before she could take her cue and leave, the woman pulled out her notepad and a golden pen from the inside of her robes. She flipped open to a page, casted a final look at the Slytherin and Gryffindor, wrote a single line down, and then made her way silently.

"Granger," Draco hissed, calling the girl as his own eyes that she controlled followed the woman. "We need to figure something out soon. We can't be in each others' bodies for another bloody second, all right?"

Hermione turned to him, giving him a scowl. "Obviously, Malfoy. You didn't think I'm going to let you walk around in my body just because, did you? No." And then she sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're going to have to spend most of the day as one another until — "

"I am not going to be you in public, Mudblood!"

Hermione's anger kicked in to full gear. "You're going to have to! You're going to go back, figure out a plan to pass as me for the time being, and at dinner, you're going to meet me in the library!" And with the borrowed strength of his body, she pushed him back threateningly. "Do you understand me, Malfoy?"

Wincing, Draco took a cautious step back from the Gryffindor, hating that he was sensitive to pain now that he was inhibiting the girl's body. "Fine," he growled at her.

"You're going to have to know a few things first...."

And as Hermione gave him the password to Gryffindor Tower, Malfoy nodding grudgingly at her, Aphrodite Venus pulled her back away from the shadow the corner of the corridor gave her. She smirked to herself;  the games were about to begin. They were finally going to learn what life was like on the other side of war.