DISCLAIMER- the usual stuff applies

A small part of Severus Snape knew that it was the potion that had somehow pasted Harry's likeness onto a dozen people, and could probably be reversed. However, most of him (the really, really angry part) chose to interpret it as a sign that someone on high really, really hated him. After his outburst the Harry's had taken their seats, having the decency to look terrified. He stalked around them, those carbon copies of that brat Potter, an almost palpable sense of fear radiating off them. If Snape -turncoat and spy for the forces of good- hadn't been so good at hiding his emotions, he would have currently been hugging his knees in a dark corner, rocking from side to side muttering a word that rhymed with 'otter', or possibly embarking on a murderous rampage of some kind. Having reached the front of the classroom he was confronted with row upon row of the same face; a sea of disorderly brown hair, a plethora of angry scars above idiotic grins, a myriad of myopic green... wait! That was it!

Snape silently congratulated himself, yes, the potion had made everyone in the class look identical, but it hadn't reproduced inanimate objects particular to Harry; which was why half the class was wearing Slytherin uniform and why the culprit, that irritating, stupid, soon-to-be-ex-pupil was the only one wearing glasses.

Anger, hatred, and what was possibly his lunch welled up inside of him as he strode menacingly towards the boy. Harry, who had been enjoying his unusual anonymity, shrank visibly in his seat. However, with Snape just inches away from him he suddenly looked towards the door and grinned. This expression, so rarely seen in the dungeons, baffled the potions master to such an extent that -mid-swoop- he spun around to discover the origin of the boy's grin, tripped on his long cloak and fell with a thud onto Harry's desk.

Snape immediately leapt up, glaring at the Harrys (who were all suppressing giggles) and trying immensely hard not to rub the offended area. Cursing under his breath he finally turned to confront the intruder, and was caught like a rabbit in the bright blue twinkly headlights that passed for Dumbledore's eyes.

"Good afternoon, Severus. May I assume that you require assistance?" Albus said, standing majestically in the door frame and surveying the classroom.

What may have been a growl escaped Snape's lips, before he grudgingly gestured for the headmaster to do what he pleased. Dumbledore stood at the front of the classroom, unerringly winking at the real Harry Potter before casting a number of complex spells over the pupils. After an unproductive five minutes he had made no progress (a fact which would have amused Snape considerably- if he hadn't been contemplating Lucius Malfoy's reaction to the news that his beloved son now looked like his master's archenemy, not to mention the fact that he was about 6 inches shorter) although a rather interesting purple raincloud was now floating around the dungeons.

At last Dumbledore admitted defeat. "Severus", he said quietly, "we will need to keep everyone together until a way of reversing this is found. I hardly need warn you of the chaos that could be caused if we simply allowed them to go back to their houses." Snape nodded his assent, wondering momentarily at the use of the word 'we', before the headmaster continued.

"I suggest that we take them to the room of requirement, where I am sure we will find ample lodgings for the students and yourself until this business is concluded."

"Myself, headmaster?" Snape spoke in an undertone, a degree of uncertainty in his voice.

"I need you to look after them Severus", Dumbledore said, his voice lightening as he added "perhaps you could use the time together to teach Harry occlumency again?"

"WHICH BLOODY ONE???" roared Snape, his patience having snapped.

"Now Severus, calm down. May I remind you that we are supposed to be promoting unity in the school? Now that we are on the brink of open war, I do not want you harbouring petty grudges against students. I shall consider this a test of your loyalty, Severus."

The tone of Albus' voice immediately told Snape there was no way out, but he still clutched at straws like a slice of bitter lemon drowning in coca-cola.

"What about my classes? I cannot spare the necessary time, headmaster." Snape made his tone respectful, hiding his anger well.

"You will teach classes as normal, all I require is that you look after them out of school hours. When the class have a lesson they will be escorted from their room to the relevant classroom and back again by their subject teacher."

Snape gave up, he could see that it was inescapable- prolonging the argument was likely to lead to his being made to do even worse tasks, like giving them individual sponge baths or something equally humiliating.

Dumbledore stepped forward to convey the arrangement to the class, who took it with something less than enthusiasm. Meanwhile Snape lingered in the background, looking deeply unhappy- whilst in some kind of pathetic fallacy the purple cloud hovered over his head and with sudden torrent of (surprisingly normal) rain soaked the potions master.

One drying spell, a very long torrent of inventive cursewords and a roomful of laughing Harry Potters (plus twinkling headmaster) later, Snape was herding the class along a corridor and towards the room of requirement. Whilst Dumbledore checked that everything inside was in place, Snape looked over his flock and was surprised to find that he was noticing differences between them. For example, there was a one Potter who was whimpering slightly and nervously glancing at him, undoubtedly that fool Longbottom, and he could tell the girls apart from the boys by the way in which the former kept surreptitiously examining certain parts of their bodies, contemplating a rather unusual future ahead of them.

At last the group was able to make their way inside the room, which consisted of two sections, the nearest of which was a makeshift common room with comfy armchairs grouped around a log fire. There was a large dormitory to the back, with the standard Hogwarts four poster beds, each one shielded with red velvet curtains. How Gryffindor, he mused venomously. Snape didn't even cheer up when he discovered that the adjacent bathroom had been decorated in Slytherin green.

That night, after Dumbledore had settled them in (and locked them in, more to the point) they had eaten dinner conjured from the kitchen by house elves and the Harry's had settled around the room to talk. Snape however, whose vindictive side was aching to be let out, had sent them straight to bed and forbidden them to talk. Lying in the bed he had chosen (in the furthest corner- as far away from anyone else as possible) he savoured the silence and reflected that he may survive the ordeal if he could scare them into submission, a tactic in which he had plenty of expertise. He also took care to move Potter and Dumbledore to higher priority slots on his mental list of People Who Would Live To Regret Their Insolence.

Hours later his brief mood of contentment had vanished completely, as a dozen Harry Potters (in revenge perhaps?) kept him awake with a deafening chorus of snores.

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Hi. Thanks to people who reviewed last time! :) I hope this chapter isn't too dull, I needed to establish a bit more of the plot first. Anyway, please tell me what you think!