It was time. Severus was once again in Dumbledore’s office, glaring at the potion vial that he was soon to drink. This whole affair was utterly ridiculous, and Severus half expected to wake up any moment now. To be completely honest, he desperately hoped he would wake up.

In less than an hour, Minerva would be introducing him to the denizens of Gryffindor Tower as their newest housemate, Alfonse Hopkirk. Thankfully, Dumbledore left much of the details of his past up to him, Severus shuddered to think what Dumbledore would have come up with on his own.

Really, the name was bad enough as it was.

“You know glaring at that potion won’t make this situation disappear.” Dumbledore said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Severus shifted his glare from the potion vial to Dumbledore’s face, and said “No, but it is the conduit of your asinine plan.”

“Really, Severus,” Dumbledore said, “It’s not that odious of a task, nor should it take you too long. You should be taking the antidote, and returning to your usual form, well before winter break.”

“Winter Break? As in three months from now? You can’t possibly believe it will take me that long to befriend the Potter boy and assess his character?” Severus said incredulously.

“Now, now Severus, it’s unlikely that you’ll get any deeper understanding of Harry’s character in less time than that.”

Severus hated to admit it, but he rather suspected that Dumbledore was right about that. He had, however unwillingly, observed that Potter did tend to keep to himself, with the obvious exceptions of the youngest Weasley boy and Granger.

Dumbledore gestured to the potion vial that Severus still, somewhat unwittingly, clutched with a tighter grip than absolutely necessary, “Why don’t you go ahead and drink that so Minerva can introduce you to the Gryffindor’s, and you can get back to your last night in your quarters?”

Severus grimaced at this reminder that he would not have access to his quarters but did as Dumbledore suggested.

He knew damn well that what Dumbledore wanted, Dumbledore got. Especially at this late stage of the operation. And he really did want to get back to his quarters. He ran over the list of reasons he couldn’t visit his quarters during the operation in his head to prevent arguing with Dumbledore- he would look petulant if he tried it, and he definitely did not want that.

At first nothing appeared to happen, and Dumbledore opened his mouth, perhaps to speculate about what had gone wrong, when there was a bright white flash.

After all the spots were gone from everyone’s vision, Severus was gone, and in his place stood Alfonse Hopkirk.

“Well, the books certainly didn’t warn me of that,” Dumbledore said brightly as he conjured a mirror for Severus.

Severus took a steadying breath before examining himself. Alfonse was shorter than Severus had been, but then, Severus had been extraordinarily tall, so Alfonse was still quite tall. Where long, dark, greasy hair had hung about a long face and even longer nose, there was now spiky blonde hair that was refusing to stay flat even as Severus pushed it down. His nose was no longer the crooked monstrosity that others had described it as in their taunts, but was short and rather stubby. Light brown eyes sat underneath thick, untamed eyebrows that arched elegantly and clashed peculiarly with his stubby nose and completely ordinary mouth.

“I look ridiculous,” Severus said.

“You look fine, dear boy, and in any case, it’ll only be a couple weeks, just avoid mirrors for that long! You won’t even start anymore vampire rumors since you won’t be you!” Dumbledore replied brightly.

Severus held very still to suppress any reaction to the terrible joke, and in doing so noticed how different his body felt. To distract himself from the uncomfortable feeling, he drifted off to think about the potion that brought him into this position.

A side effect of the antiquated potion to cure warts that Dumbledore had found in an obscure book by an obscure author was that it would allow the drinker to take on a different appearance for any period time of time, until the antidote was consumed, but the appearance seemed to be completely up to the whims of magic Herself. The age and gender could be determined by subtle adjustments to the recipes, but even at the peak of the potion’s use, nobody had found any way to change the appearance- though none of the appearances ever had any warts for obvious reasons.

Then the potion began to be used almost exclusively by the seedier elements of the world at around the same time a side-effect free version was developed, and its use was outlawed. The potion was subsequently forgotten by most. So, Dumbledore dug up the recipe, and Severus brewed it.

Thinking of it now, Severus had to wonder if this hare-brained plan hadn’t been conceived of as a result of Dumbledore finding the recipe. After all, it would have been incredibly difficult to find if he had simply been looking for it, rather than if he had stumbled across it accidentally. Then again, maybe he was just that old.

Bringing his mind back to the present now that he felt more settled, Severus noticed that his trademark robes hung loosely off his shoulders, making him look younger than he was supposed to. He held his arm out in front of him and inspected the increased amount of fabric hanging down and covering his hand.

If he had had less experience with hiding his emotions, he’d probably have sworn angrily or at least sighed resignedly at the sight of his robes. However, Severus did have extensive experience with hiding his emotions, and however much he may have wanted to give in to those urges, the only indicator of the anger and resignation he felt was an additional glint to his now light brown eyes. He again waved his wand and resized his robes to the proper size.

Dumbledore clucked disapprovingly and waved his own wand. Severus’s robes were now the Hogwarts uniform, complete with Gryffindor crest and tie. A brief shadow flitted across Severus’s face, too fast for the casual observer to notice, indicating his anger at the change forced upon him.

“Well that certainly worked. You look almost nothing like yourself, Alfonse.” Dumbledore said.

Severus began, a little incredulously “Of course it worked! I made it after all,” he continued now a little annoyed, “and why are you calling me Alfonse? I may have to go by that ridiculous pseudonym for your little charade, but my name is still Severus.”

“For you to be most successful at adopting your new identity, a complete immersion is necessary. That includes being called Alfonse by everyone, including myself, until your mission is over.” Dumbledore explained.

“I suppose I have no choice in this.” Alfonse said bitterly.

“It really is for the best.” Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his eye undiminished.

“And, I suppose I must now alter all my clothing for this hare-brained scheme of yours, then, Professor?” Severus said more for the sake of complaining than out of any real annoyance.

“Of course not, my dear boy! I’ve purchased all the supplies you will need to succeed for the duration of your mission.” Dumbledore smiled benignly, and continued “Now why don’t you and Minerva head over to Gryffindor Tower and get introductions out of the way before you lock yourself in your quarters for the night.”

“Right. Come along Sev-Mr. Hopkirk.” Minerva said briskly, turning to walk out of Albus’s office.

Alfonse paused, staring blankly at the wall for a moment, before turning to follow Minerva. Or rather Professor McGonagall he mentally corrected himself, because he knew, even if he didn’t want to admit it, that Dumbledore was right about immersion.

Minerva strode with purpose down the corridor leading to the Gryffindor Common room, her colleague turned student trailing behind her. They had started out in line with each other, but after several unfortunate incidences of Severus- Alfonse- Mr. Hopkirk- whatever- tripping over legs that were the wrong length, Mr. Hopkirk began walking behind her.

When Minerva tried to pause long enough for him to catch up to her, he slowed down enough to allow her to take the lead again. Minerva supposed that he was simply embarrassed to be suddenly incapable of something as simple as walking without tripping, and allowed the distance to remain.

Before too long, they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady had been disappointedly inspecting the completely, and stubbornly, intact wineglass that she had been attempting to shatter with her voice, but when she caught sight of Minerva leading an unknown student down her hallway, she immediately perked up.

The Fat Lady opened her mouth, but before she could get any words out, Minerva cut her off with the password “Salve”.

She simply did not have the time or patience to explain the situation to the portrait that could simply get the gossip from one of the students trying to curry favor after getting in after curfew.

As Minerva entered through the portrait hole, she brushed off any guilt that she may have felt at being so brusque with the portrait. She was, after all, in quite a hurry, and in no mood to stand around gossiping.

Mr. Hopkirk was still trailing behind her as they crossed the common room, comfortingly decorated in reds and golds and packed with students all dressed in the same, to stand in front of the merrily dancing fire.

The volume level in the common room had been nearly deafening when Minerva had first entered the room, but by the time she turned to face the common room, Mr. Hopkirk off to her side, it was nearly silent.

She had a quick recollection of the first time she came into the common room as Head of House. Almost nobody had stopped talking, and the noise level had seemed to crescendo. It had taken years before her reputation was substantial enough to produce the effect that she now enjoyed.

Minerva raised her hand, silencing the remainder of the students who had been talking, and began to speak.

“I have a quick announcement that is no less important for its brevity. There is a new student,” here she gestured to the man turned boy standing to her side and continued, “named Alfonse Hopkirk. He transferred here from the United States and will be joining our sixth years in their dormitory tomorrow. Any other questions should be directed at Alfonse himself tomorrow. For tonight, your curiosity will have to keep.” Minerva concluded.

The common room erupted into noise, and Minerva grimly ushered Alfonse out of the room. Really, she should have known better than to bring him all the way into the room for the announcement.

She wasn’t sure she agreed with Albus’s decision to announce Alfonse the night before he joined the general population. He said it would allow the students to get used to the idea without harassing Alfonse, but it would probably make things worse the next morning.

They hurried through the portrait hole. About halfway down the corridor, Minerva turned into an empty classroom, gesturing behind her for Sev-Mr. Hopkirk to follow.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Minerva set a variety of privacy wards, not trusting her lions in the slightest despite the departure of the twins Weasley. She thanked anyone who might be listening for that small blessing, as she always did when she remembered that the twins were now gone for good.

“Alright Mr. Hopkirk, that went decently well. My lions will be inclined to be friendly, at least until the mystery surrounding you is resolved. Their continued friendliness is dependent on your response to them.” Minerva said sternly and not very hopeful that he would even attempt to be friendly back.

She looked him up and down. The transfiguration Dumbledore applied to Alfonse’s robes was wearing off, and they were beginning to look like Severus’s trademark black robes again.

Mr. Hopkirk saw Minerva inspecting him, and looked down to examine himself. He obviously saw the state of his robes, smoothed them down as if trying to remove lint that was not there, and said “I suppose that this is my cue to head back to my quarters and inspect the supplies Albus has provided.” He looked longingly over his shoulder at the door.

It was quite clear to Minerva that the poor boy just wanted to be alone, and gestured for him to precede her in exiting the empty classroom. As Mr. Hopkirk went right towards the dungeons, and Minerva went left towards her quarters, she mused that this would be quite the semester, and it was only the first Friday of classes.