A Clockwork Romance

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It was freezing cold outside. Icicles hung tantalizingly from rooftops and snow up to your knees carpeted the now-white grass. Children who didn't have class romped in the frozen wet white substance, clumping it into snowballs. It was the best type of snow-heavy and good for packing. Perfect for the snowman.

But Harry couldn't make a snowman when he was cooped up in the Potions Dungeon, not even when it was colder inside then it could ever be outside. Professor Snape was yattering on about some strange Look-Alike Potion or other. Something completely useless and probably very boring.

"The potion is one of the most permanent liquids you will ever encounter, short of those that can kill you. So I suggest you don't touch it. Yes, I said 'touch it', Finnigan! This potion need not be consumed for it to take effect. If you dip one thing into it, then touch something else to it, the second object will resemble the first. Observe." The Potions Master dipped a well-worn leather-covered book into the potion, drew it out, and submerged a clean sheet of parchment in the bubbling liquid. The scrap of parchment had darkened into leather-like colors. It looked exactly like the book, save for the fact that it didn't have the cracks and creases the book did. The Professor explained this.

"As Mr. Malfoy has no doubt noticed, the paper looks much newer than the book. Age will not counter into the Look-Alike potion, which is one of the many reasons that the Polyjuice Potion is preferred for Humans." Snape set both the book and parchment on his desk and glared at the class. "Now I want you to brew the potion. If, of course, you can, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville whimpered and tried to slide down into his seat. "Y-yes, of c-course, Professor!" He squeaked.

"Good. Now start! Page five-ninety-seven."

Harry was paired with Ron, and together they managed to struggle through the difficult potion. It required very accurate timing, so they weren't completely sure they got theirs right. Hermione was working with Neville; hissing instructions into his ear as she did nine-tenths of the work.

After what seemed like forever, everybody's potions were done. Now came the worst part of the class: The Selection. Who would the Professor pick to demonstrate the potion on? Whose potion was correct, and who had mutilated the delicate concoction? Who would end up with a florescent purple mustache for a week, as Seamus had? Or miniature feet sprouting out of their ears, as Ernie Macmillan did? Who would...

"LONGBOTTOM!" Snape boomed.

Thank the gods, Harry thought, I thought he was going to pick me.

"Let's see if Ms. Granger had any effect on your hideous Potion skills, Longbottom. As this is a very simple potion-"

Simple? He's insane!

"-I don't see how you can possibly mess this up. You will have detentions for a week if it doesn't work, Longbottom." Neville gulped. "If it does work, which I highly doubt, the potion should turn a very dark shade of green. Near black, in fact." Snape hissed, and dipped his finger in.

The potion turned a very dark shade of green. Near black, in fact.

After scowling ferociously at his relieved student, the Professor flicked his hand towards the disposal bucket. "Hmph. Get rid of it, Longbottom, before it changes its mind and blows up in our faces." Neville nodded eagerly, grabbed the potion, and scurried towards the bucket.

Unfortunately for all parties involved, Draco Malfoy decided to be an arse and stuck his foot out in the middle of the isle. Neville tripped, the cauldron flew, and the entire contents came sloshing down on Harry Potter's head. Ron had sensibly ducked under the table when he heard that Neville would be the one doing the testing. Luckily for everyone excluding Harry, the potion only landed on one person.

Poor, poor Potter.

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Have you ever experienced that feeling of panic? Of absolute dread? The one right before something terribly awful happens to you? The one when you see the cauldron come down on your head?

I have. It just happened. I closed my eyes, waiting for the substance to kill me. Waiting for my limbs to drop off. Something horrific was happening, I knew that much. I could feel it in my bones. I felt as if someone had grabbed hold of either end of me and began pulling.

"Look at him grow!" Someone said. I think it was Parvati. Oh god. I'm growing. I'm going to grow so enormous that my heart will give out and I'll die a giant.

"I think he must be over six feet tall!" Lavender.

"No, he's taller than that. I'm six-foot-one, and he's taller than me by at least two inches!" Ron. I think I've stopped growing now. Perhaps I won't die?

"I'd say about three or possibly four inches, Weasley. He's taller than me, too." Malfoy. Damn. I must be tall. He's a full inch taller than Ron!

"Take the cauldron off, Potter, before it addles your already damaged brain." Snape. I better take the damn thing off before he slaps a lifetime of detentions on me.

I took it off.

Everybody gasped.

"Damn, Potter."

"Oh my god, Harry."

"Shit!"

"He's handsome!"

"How can you say that, Lav? He looks like..."

"Yes, but younger. And cuter!"

"Lavender Brown!"

"Hehe!"

Everyone was staring at me, including Snape. After a few moments of stunned silence, the Professor pulled himself together and boomed, "Potter! Longbottom! Dumbledore's office, now!"

Uh oh. What the hell did that gods-curst potion do to me?

It seemed to me that it took forever to get to the Headmaster's office, even though in reality only five minutes passed. After snapping 'Ton-Tongue Toffees' at the gargoyle, the Professor dragged us through. Neville was whimpering again.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure, Professor..." Dumbledore trailed off as his eyes fell on me. "Oh my. Look-Alike Potion troubles, Severus?"

"Yes." Snape snapped. "I was testing Longbottom's potion. It turned out right for once, so I told him to dispose of it. The foolish boy tripped and dropped the entire contents on Potter's head." Summarized, I was beginning to get an idea of what happened to me.

Oh god, no. Not-no. The potion had to have failed. I couldn't look like... It wasn't possible! I couldn't, I just couldn't look like...

"May I see a mirror, Professor?" I asked. I was looking at my hands as I said this. The fingers were long, thin, and rather darker than mine were.

Dumbledore nodded and waved his wand. I didn't quite catch what he said, except that 'reflectus' was in the spell somewhere. In any case, a full length mirror appeared in front of me. I stared at my reflection.

I was tall. Probably nearly six-foot-four. My hair was still black, but now it was jaw-length and straight. My face was angular and my cheekbones were very pronounced. My normally emerald eyes had turned into obsidian. My nose was thin but rather large.

My robes hadn't changed any, so they were far to small on me, showing off my arms and legs. I was a midget no longer!

I looked exactly like a younger version of Snape.

Neville squeaked behind me. "I d-didn't mean to, Harry. I tripped on something. I didn't mean to! I really, really, really didn't!"

I shook my head. "No, it's okay, Neville. Professor Dumbledore, sir? Is there any way to reverse this?"

Snape looked decidedly uneasy as he answered for the Headmaster. "No, Potter, there isn't. Weren't you listening in class? This is permanent! "

The rest of the discussion passed in a blur: I don't really know what was said. I can dimly remember points being deducted from Gryffindor for Neville's clumsiness. Dumbledore said something consoling, and I was pushed out of the office.

I descended the stairs in a blurry haze. I looked like Snape! I LOOKED LIKE SNAPE! Dear god, I looked like Snape...

I think this is going to be a very interesting year.

Time to go eat lunch.

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Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table and everyone's attention immediately focused on him. After muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Bugger off, already!" conversations resumed.

Hermione and Ron, however, were still fixated on him. "Harry... That's really creepy." Ron muttered, poking at his scrambled eggs.

"It feels like you're about to slap thirteen detentions on us and deduct one-hundred-and-twenty points from Gryffindor. It's really scary-you look exactly like Snape." Hermione voiced.

Harry just muttered something inaudible and began to munch on his ham-and-cheese sandwich. Both of his friends continued to stare at him. And stare... And stare... And stare... And-

"Stop bloody staring at me, already! I have not turned into Voldemort-I just look like Snape, alright?" Harry exploded.

Ron just blinked. "Now you're even acting like Snape, Harry!"

Throwing his hands up into the air, Harry grabbed his plate (he had to take his hands down for this) and stormed off to the Slytherin table.

Now everyone was staring at him, including the Slytherins.

After a silent moment that seemed to last forever, Draco Malfoy spoke up. "What, Potter? Experiencing a change-of-House? "

Harry shrugged, unperturbed. "In a way. Hermione and Ron think I'm some sort of freak-"

"Don't flatter yourself Potter: you are."

Not taking notice of this interruption, Harry continued. "the Hufflepuffs think I'm responsible for Cedric's death and are out for my blood, and the Ravenclaws are staring just as much as the Gryffindors, I thought I'd come here. At least the Slytherin table will kill me and end my miseries."

Draco snorted into his putting. "Ahh... The terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad life of Harry James Potter. Pass some sympathy, please."

"Shut up." Harry said good-naturedly, and sprinkled some pepper on his scrambled eggs.

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