Reversed

2| Detention & the Art of Pickpocketing

~Draco

I watched as Potter/me practically skipped down the hall to get to detention. Like a fucking ballerina. Maybe he was training for the ballet.

My head hurt from this morning. I had never seen Potter so furious in my life. Even if he did look like me, all the signs of a Potter were there. The willingness to defend people's honor and the constant hair batting.

It was infuriating to see that the way he was maintaining my hair was to mess it up and leave it like that.

Such a prat.
It was a whole other battle today, with everyone casting me sympathetic looks and pats on the shoulder. But I will admit, I wouldn't have gotten this much attention if I still looked like a Malfoy. Being Scarhead had its perks, I suppose. The public simply adored him. I didn't know why, but that's society for you.

When I caught up to him and tried to get him rattled, he just wouldn't respond.

A day in the life of me was exhausting. Perhaps he didn't expect that. Hell, he didn't care, not even my parents gave a fuck about the pressure put on me. To be the top student, to uphold the Malfoy name. All I wanted to be was me. Everyone assumed that I had some kind of rise-to-power agenda. No. I wanted to be a healer. Except that wouldn't happen.

"Come in," the Professor called out to us.
I followed Potter/me into the room where McGonagall sat. I was taken aback by the bathrobe and pink curlers in her hair. Potter/me, on the other hand looked completely fine with this strange sight.

Did she strut around with pink curlers in the Gryffindor Common Room? Merlin I hoped not, because I would see that soon enough, me being Potter now.

"Good evening Professor," Potter/me said.

What was he doing?? A Malfoy doesn't act like that! I pinched his arm as the reprimand.

McGonagall ignored that and stared at us.

"I just don't understand why you two hate each other," she shook her head, "if you really paid attention you could see that you are more similar than you think,"

What the fuck.

Neither of us said a word.

"Anyways, your punishment is to clean all the empty classrooms in this corridor and then just go back to your houses, I trust that you won't get into any other fights because I want to sleep-no magic either," and with that she handed us brooms and buckets and left.

Potter/me headed off in the opposite direction.

"Where do you think you're going?" I hissed.

"To clean a classroom, or do you need supervision?" He deadpanned.

"No, just- just do your work," I stuttered.

Potter/me disappeared into a classroom on the right. The corridor was so quiet that the silence was making my ears buzz. My stomach garbled at me, making me remember that I didn't eat anything for breakfast.

This was going to be awful. We needed to change back into ourselves. But how? I couldn't even begin to wonder how this came to be. I had never even heard of things like this happening. Would this be permanent? No, no surely not. Potter wouldn't be able to make it through the holidays back at the Manor. There was no way. My father would tear him apart. But isn't that what I wanted? Hm.

My stomach growled again.

"I heard that," Potter/me grinned in the doorway.

"Shove off,"

"I didn't eat anything either," he confessed.

"Wow fantastic, this must be the things in common that McGonagall spoke of," I replied.

"I was going to offer you a chocolate but I see that you're fine on your own," he walked back out.

I didn't need his charity. I would be fine on my own.

grrrbbllle

Blasted empty stomach. A chocolate wasn't much charity anyways.

I followed the brushing sound of the broom into the classroom near the back of the hall.

"I changed my mind, where's that chocolate?" I said.

"I ate it already," he shrugged.

"Okay but don't you have more than one chocolate?" I pressed.

He grinned again, the gesture looking unnatural on my own face.

"Check in the back pocket of the robes you're wearing,"

I frowned at him for a second while I dug around. Right, these were his robes. Why didn't I think of that?

I struck gold and pulled out two candies.

"Wait... if these were in the robes I'm wearing then how did you get some?"

"Oh Malfoy, have you ever heard of the ancient muggle art of pickpocketing?" He asked.

"No but that sounds sinister," I crossed my arms.

"Sure, but I got my chocolate didn't I?"

"It's not your chocolate anymore, since I am the Great Chosen One,"

That struck a nerve.
He dropped the broom and I watched it fall, like in slow motion. Potter/me stormed over and grabbed the bag of candy from the robes.

"I'm sorry that I even offered you something, it was stupid of me, really,"

Potter pretended I wasn't even there. His back was turned to me while he aggressively swept the floor.

"You're going to break that broom," I said.

Silence.

Fine, so be it, be that pissy little prat that you are, Potter. I wouldn't expect any less.

I didn't dare say it aloud, I had already made this room an angry one.