A/N: As my profile states, I am not JKR, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the wizarding world and I do not profit at all from fan fiction. Now, this thought popped into my head when I was contemplating school life and has been wallowing on my laptop for far too long, so I'm giving it some air. It's a parody on Wife Swap… if you haven't seen it, you're not missing much…

TEACHER SWAP

Albus Dumbledore looked around at the stunned faces of his horrified colleagues.

"That is possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard come from your mouth," exclaimed Severus Snape acidly.

"And that is really saying something," added Albus's right-hand witch, Minerva McGonagall.

"Sorry, can you run that past me again?" enquired Rolanda Hooch, who was rarely given to listening to the contents of any staff meeting. However, the outraged remarks of her fellow colleagues had enticed her into paying attention.

"Merlin knows that morale around the school has been rather low recently, so I have had the ingenious idea of inventing a teacher swap rota. Over the course of the coming week, you will each be taking different classes to your usual schedule."

Pomona Sprout looked rather concerned at this; she had never been a dab hand at many other school subjects, she had achieved decent enough grades but she really wasn't very confident about this. Apprehension seemed to be setting in for everyone.

Remus Lupin looked like he was trying very hard not to scream, Aurora Sinistra had started biting her nails, Filius Flitwick looked as if he might faint, Sybil Trelawney already had (though that could have been due to the unseemly amount of cooking sherry flowing through her system). Rolanda Hooch still looked as if she thought Albus was joking, Irma Pince and Argus Filch looked rather gleeful as they wouldn't have to take part in the swap, Poppy Pomfrey appeared decidedly indignant. But none were as outraged as Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall; Severus seemed to be positively homicidal and Minerva's mouth was barely visible.

"But, Albus, I can't swap! I'm the nurse! What if someone gets hurt?" Poppy screeched.

"Well," Albus began cheerfully, "both Severus and Minerva have previous medical training so they will be the only ones to swap with you, Poppy. There is no need to worry, the rest of the time you may remain in the Hospital Wing." Poppy breathed a sigh of relief, whereas Severus and Minerva looked quite ill.

"Albus, honestly, the joke was funny but can we just keep things as they are?" Minerva asked. If anyone's opinion could sway the headmaster, it was Minerva's. Still nobody seemed to be concerned by Sybil's unfortunate state of collapse.

"No-one is joking, Minerva. I have all of your schedules for the week here." Albus waved his wand haphazardly at a small pile of papers and each one began to soar towards its owner.

Severus leaned over to Minerva.

"Since when did you have medical training?"

"I was an Auror before I worked here," she replied softly. "Oh, don't look so astonished. I did have a life before I came here!"

"And you don't now?" One of Severus's favourite pass-times was irritating the Scottish witch.

"For your information, yes, I do. Any way, how did you get medical experience?" she asked briskly, swiftly changing the subject.

"I am a Potions teacher and a spy. Go work it out," he whispered blandly.

"Alright, keep your greasy hair on. Hmm… Looks like I'm teaching Defence first period. Gryffindors and Slytherins. This should be interesting, if nothing else." The staff slowly filtered out of the room, trudging towards their imminent doom… or that's what they called it, anyway.

Harry Potter was in a decidedly more optimistic mindset as he trundled towards Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Dumbledore had dropped several hints at breakfast that things may be a little different today. Merlin knew what he was talking about! Harry always enjoyed Professor Lupin's lessons as they were always slightly unexpected. However, as the door to the classroom opened, something even more unexpected happened.

In place of Professor Lupin and his shabby robes was Professor McGonagall, who beckoned them all in with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Ron gulped.

"Bloody hell!"

Everybody took to their seats with a slight drop of the heart. Textbook work today then, thought Harry.

"Now, as you will notice over the coming week that you will have different teachers for different lessons. The Headmaster has decided that it will be good for school morale," Harry could have sworn he heard her add a little 'Merlin knows why' under her breath. "So, today I shall be teaching you some duelling skills."

What? Malfoy looked quite worried at this prospect, and Hermione even more so.

"Um, excuse me Professor?" asked Malfoy smoothly. "Are you qualified to be teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Mr Malfoy, I used to be a member of the Auror department and I have fought in far more wars, both Muggle and wizarding, than I care to remember. So, yes, I think I am." She added, "Oh, and you can tell your father that too." Professor McGonagall replied with an air of finality that shut Malfoy up considerably, causing a set of hushed giggles to flit around the class.

"Wow," whispered Ron, "who'd have guessed it?"

"If that is all, please pick a partner and get your wands out." She levitated all of the desks against the walls so that everybody was left standing in the centre of the room. "Now, who shall help me demonstrate? Nobody? Mr Potter, how about you?" Harry faltered. Malfoy was sneering at him already. He walked forward and halted just before her.

"There's a lad. So, stand opposite your partner. Choose your stance, ready your wand and bow." Each action was completed as the command was given. "Ready, Potter?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry lied. No I'm bloody not. Oh no, Ron's rubbing off on me.

The countdown was given and a storm of spells filled the air.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

"Impedimenta!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Finite Incantatem!"

"Stupefy!"

"Protego!"

It went on for several minutes. It was relentless. The spells were ricocheting everywhere, almost blindingly and they were so quick in succession that Harry hardly had time to recover after each cast. Then Harry was suddenly hit with a non-verbal spell that he didn't even see coming. His limbs stiffened and he couldn't move. Every bone in his body froze like ice spreading through his veins. Fortunately, just as quickly as the spell had started, it finished.

"Well done, Potter." It was a rare compliment but he felt as if he had failed. Malfoy was smirking. "Now, class, you will be learning non-verbal spells at NEWT level but, as you will know, they are a very important part of duelling. They give you the element of surprise and give your opponent less time to react. So, in your pairs I want you to practice your duelling skills but you are to disarm only! Have you got that?"

The rest of the class passed fairly quickly. Professor McGonagall walked around the class watching each pair carefully and then offered improvement points to them. Thankfully, Ron wasn't quite as good as Professor McGonagall and Harry felt much more comfortable duelling him. His Transfiguration teacher seemed to be fairly impressed with Harry, which made him feel all the better.

After Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry climbed up to the Divination tower, wondering who would be taking over the lesson. It was to Harry's surprise that, when he appeared through the trapdoor, he was met by a yellow-eyed witch with spiky grey hair. Madam Hooch looked extremely grim. The room thankfully was not overwhelmingly scented for once and everybody, barring Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, seemed to be pleased about it. They all took their seats in the overly-squashy armchairs that were scattered around the room.

Madam Hooch heaved a deep sigh and plumped down into the chair at the front. This should be interesting.

"Now, let's get one thing straight; you probably don't like Divination, I definitely don't like Divination. Personally I think that all this 'Inner Eye' nonsense is a load of Hippogriff. So, I'm sorry, you won't be learning any Divination today." Most of the class's faces lit up. "Who would rather look at Quidditch tactics?"

By the end of the lesson, Harry had learnt how to do a perfect Sloth Drop Roll, a Seeker's Sting, an Eel Dive and had come to like Madam Hooch a lot better. They had talked for the majority of the lesson about Harry's new Firebolt and his Nimbus Two Thousand, or any broom they could think of really. Slytherin were in trouble if the whole team used these tactics! The next match really would be a massacre. That would wipe the smug smile from Malfoy's face.

"Well done," Madam Hooch called as the class filed out. "Now, wasn't that better than that Divination tosh?"

After break, the Golden Trio walked down to double Potions in a significantly lightened mood. Generally they would be dreading this lesson but they knew that they wouldn't have to put up with Snape's constant dreariness or his endless greasiness; they would have a different teacher. Anyone was better than Snape, right?

Instead of the hook-nosed dungeon bat was little Professor Flitwick teetering atop his customary pile of thick books.

"Come in, come in," he squeaked. "Now, today we will be looking at the cure for Dragon Pox. Can anybody tell me what that is? Er… yes, Miss Granger."

As was the fashion, Hermione's hand had shot straight into the air at the question.

"Stickleback syrup, Professor."

"Well done, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, everybody get out your textbooks and find the Stickleback Syrup." The class obeyed. "Can anybody tell me another use for the Stickleback Syrup?" Again, Hermione's hand was waving in the air.

"It can be a powerful De-Aging Potion under the correct potency. But it will only work if you haven't yet added any asphodel." The class around her groaned and Ron glanced at Harry with an I-knew-that roll of his eyes.

"Very good, take another ten points, Miss Granger."

The class all began brewing their potions and Harry was just slicing up his stickleback spine as Professor McGonagall strode into the dungeon.

"Professor Flitwick, may I talk with you?"

"Of course," answered Professor Flitwick, who hastily jumped down from his pile of books. However, just as he landed on the cold stone floor, the pile of books tumbled down and knocked straight into Neville's cauldron, spilling the contents over the front of Professor McGonagall.

"What is this?" she demanded, glaring down into the cauldron.

"Stickleback Syrup, Professor," said Neville bashfully.

"Oh Merlin, did you add the asphodel yet?" She had begun to prod the miniscule amount of potion left in the cauldron with her wand.

"Well, I was just about to…"

Just then there was a blinding flash of red light and a thick, choking blue fog engulfed the room. When it cleared, in place of the stern deputy Headmistress, there stood a tall, lithe, ebony-haired girl of about seventeen. She had bright emerald eyes, full rosy lips and wore fitted navy blue robes, which were half-covered by her waist-length locks.

For a long moment nobody seemed to be capable of speech. That was Professor McGonagall? Wow…

"Bloody hell!" Harry heard Ron exclaim.

"Minerva, do you want to get to the Hospital Wing?" Professor Flitwick asked cautiously.

"No, it's my turn there anyway. I think I'm alright. How strong was that potion?" she inquired, glaring again into Neville's cauldron.

"I have no idea."

"Hmm…" she said, by way of reply, while examining the dregs left in the bottom of Neville's cauldron. "Quite a strong one by the looks of it. Hopefully, it should wear off in a couple of days."

"Minerva, are you sure you are okay?"

"I'll be perfectly fine. I think. Worse things have happened, right?"

Harry thought that the potion must change your personality as well, but at least it hadn't affected her memory. It was strange having her there. She looked so… different. Ron was still gaping at Professor McGonagall, Hermione was back to brewing her potion again and the rest of the class seemed to have given up.

"I'll get Albus to come down here," suggested Professor Flitwick.

"Filius, I am perfectly capable of escorting myself back to the Hospital Wing," Professor McGonagall protested.

"Please, Minerva, he will know what to do," Professor Flitwick pleaded.

"Honestly, I just have to wait it off."

"Let me get Severus then?" He knew she would not be happy about this particular suggestion as soon as it had left his mouth.

"Filius, I am just fine!" Her raging voice resonated around the dungeon.

Suddenly, Professor Dumbledore appeared in the doorway of the dungeon. He looked his usual cheerful self, at least. He really did have a knack for turning up at just the right time.

"Someone called?" he announced happily.

"Yes, Albus. Minerva has had a small problem." Understatement of the century, Harry thought.

"Like what?" Minerva span around to face Albus and he stopped in his tracks. "Ah…"

"I'm ok. Will you just stop fussing please?" Professor McGonagall marched past Professor Dumbledore, who quickly followed suit.

"Well… class… erm… it's nearly time to go so would you like to begin packing your equipment away?"

"What on earth were you thinking?"

Albus Dumbledore was speechless, he just sat and gaped at his deputy. It was like she was seventeen again. Well, technically she was…

"Hello, Albus, are you awake?" She said sarcastically.

"I apologize, my dear, I was lost in my own thoughts," Albus explained vaguely.

"Well, will you help me find a way out of this? I can't stay like this!" She shouted with a limp gesture at her new - or should I say old - body.

"I don't think you have a choice, Minerva."

"I could just leave until it's worn off…" Minerva suggested feebly.

"You wouldn't do that. Besides, where would you go?"

"Home," she replied with a sulky tone to her voice.

"But the Scottish Stallion is going to be at work for the most part," he smiled. He knew her weaknesses. She hated when he called her husband names.

"Will you stop calling him that?"

"Fine. Matthew is going to be at work for the most part and you can't very well go and live with Rebecca in Paris!"

"Well, I could…" she gave up on the thought immediately; her daughter definitely would not be happy to see a seventeen-year-old version of her own mother turn up on her doorstep. Minerva McGonagall sighed and flopped back into an armchair. "What am I going to do, Albus?"

"I'll tell you what you are going to do," began Albus defiantly. "You, Minerva Katharina McGonagall, are going to get out there, teach your classes and show everybody out there that you are the strongest, most amazing woman in the school."

"Just in the school?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione had finished lunch and were lounging around under the beech tree by the lake.

"Mad, isn't it?" sighed Ron.

"I know," began Hermione. "I mean, the whole situation is strange. A teacher swap? What was Professor Dumbledore thinking? And, now, Professor McGonagall looks like she's seventeen again. What is going on?"

"I was talking about Neville brewing a half-decent potion." Ron said, by way of answering.

"Don't be so awful, Ronald," Hermione chastised. The trio sat silent for a few long moments before Harry interrupted the serenity:

"What do we have next then?"

"Herbology," Ron replied gloomily.

"We'd better get to the greenhouses, then."

And they departed.

Awaiting their arrival in the greenhouse was Professor Remus Lupin who, unlike Madam Hooch, seemed much more at home in his present surroundings. When the class were admitted inside, he was admiring a rather dangerous-looking fuchsia coloured plant with huge green tentacle-like leaves. Makes sense, thought Harry.

"Ah, good afternoon. Come in, come in." Being his usual, jovial self, he smiled at each student as they passed through the doors.

Once they had all gathered inside the jungle-like greenhouse, he began. "Good afternoon, and how are you all enjoying this little teacher swap?" To his surprise, the class seemed - on the whole - rather upbeat about the swap. He had no idea what they had all seen in their Potions class. "Now, today we shall be studying the arboralis adamenta. Can anybody tell me the more common name for this plant?"

Hermione looked right around the greenhouse and, when she was certain that nobody else would answer, she decided to do so on their behalf.

"It's most commonly known as the plant of the dead, Sir."

"Yes, indeed, Miss Granger. Well done. Now, for ten house points, can anybody tell me what this plant is used for?"

To everybody's surprise, Neville Longbottom thrust a shaking hand into the air above his head.

"Mr Longbottom?"

"Its venom is used as a powerful sedative." For a moment, Neville looked unsure of his answer, but he was positively delighted when Professor Lupin declared that he was right.

Harry suddenly had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

A/N: Just to point out, I completely made up the "Latin" name of the plant. So, to continue or not to continue, that is the question I put to you, kind reader.