Switched. - a potter fiction

Dramione. Set in post deathly hallows... A backfire in the duel between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter causes them to switch places... so Draco gets to taste harry's life - what it is to be the boy who lived. he gets to live the life of a world famous, loved celebrity and then again... he gets to see Hermione Granger in a whole new light....


3. Being A Malfoy

A/N: 1. i have made use of one more head cannon at the end of this chapter

2. while the prev. chp. was about draco's day this is about harry's day (like at the same time..)

Precap: they had reached an agreement to remain in each other's life and not mess up anything. draco, in harry's being headed to the gryffindor common room, while harry, in draco's being headed to the slytherin common room.


As malfoy headed to take Harry’s place at the Gryffindor dormitory, harry slowly trudged downward toward the dungeons.

Harry was in no mood to live in the slytherin dormitory neither was he enthusiastic of being treated like a death eater. He delayed his arrival to the dungeons as much as possible, he loitered through the isolated passages and quickened pace only when someone was about.

Once or twice he stopped to greet somebody who he was well acquainted to as harry but all he received was stony glares- which prepared him completely to cease living the life of a hero and get ready to taste the life of an accused.

He did not deserve it. But then again, neither did malfoy.

On reaching the dungeons, harry spotted a whining Parkinson and closely avoided having an uncomfortable conversation with her. But he still managed to slither into the common room behind the gossiping group of girls. The slytherin common room was not as well furnished as the Gryffindor one neither was it as welcoming. But it was vast and empty. There was plenty of space to live in solitude. The stony walls were richly decorated with tassels of green and silver closely woven with excellent craftsmanship. There old shields pertaining to the various pureblood dynasties adorned the wall. All was silent and dark and harry could have sworn he heard the steady whispers of the lake above.


Most dormitories were empty and not slept in. most slytherins had fled to the safety of their homes. The few people who remained barely talked to each other. It was a complete contrast to the now jubilant Gryffindor common room. But harry found this situation quite efficacious. He heaved draco’s body down on one of the seat and began to observe the death eater mark which now covered a major part of his left hand. It was itchy, irritable and burnt as if it were fresh. How ironical for The Boy Who Lived to sport one!

just then Narcissa malfoy walked in, her emerald green robes almost blending into the walls of the common room. Harry smiled at her and returned to gazing at the mark. But narcissa wouldn’t let her son sit in a corner sulking about his traumatic past! No she wouldn’t. no matter what trouble she was undergoing.

Her husband would probably be put into jail or even be killed. Her family would be branded as traitors or banished from their kind. Her young son sat traumatized, having seen death in such close quarters- blaming himself for it. Her sister and cousins were dead. And all who knew them have fled and all who don’t know them brand them as wicked. Yet, she would stand and try to unite her family – as she always did.

Narcissa pale hands patted harry and pulled him into a side hug as she seated herself by him. Harry did not know what to do. From what he had seen, draco did not think much of his mother- yet harry could never bring himself to hate or even act spitefully to the woman who saved his life.

If draco did not care for his mother, harry couldn’t help it. That’s one think harry was definitely going to change in draco’s life.

“hello, mum.” Said harry punctuating the greeting with a helpless smile.

It was difficult to smile; draco’s face was creased to frown with ease, not to smile.

Narcissa looked pleasantly surprised. But hid it under the most-fake-yet-vibrant-smile-which-clearly-hid-tears- that harry had ever seen. Narcissa said no more. She sat there staring at harry, a loving smile on her face as she occasionally caressed his hair. Harry felt uncomfortable; it looked like her eyes were searching his soul- perhaps that’s how mothers usually looked… he could not tell.

Soon, he mumbled about lunch made quite an un polite getaway. Harry longed company by the time her left the slytherin common room.

Perhaps he could find ron or ginny and talk to them. Not under the identity of malfoy. They could comfort him, probably even find a way out of this situation. With that thought leading him, he sped up to the great hall- it was relatively empty and there sat ginny at the beginning of the Gryffindor table. He rushed along it and placed his hand on her. Ginny turned around and on seeing him immediately whipped out her wand. Harry felt hurt-this was how anyone would have reacted to draco.


“ginny!” said harry enthusiastically. “it’s me! HARRY!!” he said pointing to himself (technically, draco…)

Ginny looked amused at draco’s frail efforts to gain sympathy and got up and turned to him, her nose high. “and I am Voldemort” she declared “here,let me kill you!” she added.

By then a crowd gathered around. Harry realised that he had completely misanalysed his chances. But it was too late to step back. Most of the weasleys and gryffindors arrived looking down at him as if he were a particularly dirty- stray ferret.

Then he saw Ron and Hermione rushing toward him tagging along with them was draco looking quite petrified. He just hoped that draco would not mess it up. On seeing draco, ginny ran up to him and hugged him. Harry’s face turned red. Draco sensibly broke away and acted reasonably well. After which Mcgonagall’s voice drowned all attention toward the little incident.


The rest of lunch, harry spent it isolated in a corner of the slytherin table. Stealthily eyeing draco and ginny. But draco did not cast a single glance toward ginny. He seemed completely intrested in… hermione’s conversation, though he did glance guiltily at harry now and again. After lunch, harry was glad to see ginny heading toward the quidditch pitch and draco heading toward the gryffindor common room.


Before he could sigh with relief, harry was barricaded by…GEORGE.

“I am sorry-“harry began to clear up about the ginny incident but George looked vaguely concerned.

“I know.” He stated. “I know you can never mean bad.” Harry looked sceptically at George.

George Weasley.george smiled. More like a grimace. His face was sober and plain. Looked empty without a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes and a joke on his tongue.

“I wanted to thankyou about the other day- at the funeral… Freddie would have appreciated it… infact, I am sure he does.” George added in a shaky voice.

Why would George want to thank DRACO for fred’s funeral? To the best of harry’s memory, draco was definitely not present there.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” Harry stated plainly.

“you don’t need to hide it. I saw you crying and apologizing to the headstone.” George replied. Harry stood petrified for a moment. A tear swam to the edge of his (draco’s) lashes.

“geor..” harry broke into tears.

He did not know why.

Probably for fred’s death.

Probably sympathizing with George.

Probably touched by draco.

Or probably just venting his confused feelings.

By the time harry had finished, George was hugging him and pacifying him.

“george. I am not draco.” Harry stated plainly.

“like I dunno.” Stated George.

George Weasley believed him.

Ginny didn’t….

harry’s heart welled with emotions but he cut them short and revealed everything that had happened to him on the fateful day.

At the end, George looked at him.

“does it hurt?” he asked.

“what?” asked harry quite confused.

“Dying? Does it hurt? Did Freddie- you know?? you have died....” asked George struggling to bait words with his tongue which remained as solid as  stone.

“quicker than falling asleep.” Harry whispered instantly.


please temme how it was!!! i am definitely open fer constructive criticism

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