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the bottom!draco emporium-- Babysitter
Title: Babysitter
Author: Spye
Disclaimer: Not mine, clear?
AN: Challenge fic. Pre-slash. One-shot.
“Headmaster Dumbledore?”
Albus looked up, startled. “Oh,” he said, noticing the head in the fire place. “Mrs. Malfoy. How may I help you?”
“First, I’ve separated from Lucius, so if you wouldn’t mind . . . ?”
“Of course, Ms Black.”
The blonde head in the fire nodded her thanks. “Now, I’m unsure of whether or not you are aware of an. . .incident that occurred on the Hogwarts Express last week? It involved my son and some of Harry Potter’s friends.”
“I am aware of it. Young Mr. Malfoy provoked. . .”
Narcissa cut him off, “Oh, I have no doubt that Draco earned it. However, there was an. . .accident. . .” her tone of voice suggested she suspected it had been nothing of the sort, “while reversing the hexes. I have my baby back, Headmaster. He’s eighteen months. Well, not his mind, of course. He remembers the last sixteen years fine, but oh, Headmaster, he’s a baby again!”
Albus raised an eyebrow. He was sure the young Slytherin wasn’t nearly as happy about the situation as his mother. “I am glad for you, Ms Black,” he said smoothly. “Is there something you need from me?”
“Well, you see, I need to go and visit some relatives on the continent for a time. I need someone to stay with Draco. I would prefer one of his year-mates, and I was hoping you could recommend someone who is not averse to baby-sitting for a time. Perhaps someone who can show him a different outlook to that of his father?”
The Headmaster smiled. “I can, perhaps, think of someone. Mr. Malfoy would, of course, have to stay with him. And he would have to be compensated, as would his family.”
Narcissa sniffed. “That is not an issue. The Ministry was kind enough to give me the keys to Lucius’ vaults. He would have to stay for most of the summer.”
“I’ll look into it and get back to you.”
They broke the connection, and Albus immediately began contacting the necessary people. By that evening, it had been arranged that the babysitter would pick up his charge from Malfoy Manor that Friday afternoon. Even the boy’s Muggle family had been agreeable, seeing as they would be compensated. The babysitter himself seemed rather bemused by it all.
Friday at noon, Draco Malfoy toddled into the library in answer to his mother’s call. “Yes, Mother?” he asked, his voice high and slightly lisping. He was not surprised when the woman immediately picked him up and cradled him in her lap. Irritated, but not surprised. He couldn’t trouble himself to protest anymore; it hadn’t done any good for the past week, and he doubted that that would change now. “What did you want?” he asked instead, the words and sharp tone incongruous with a baby’s body and voice.
“Remember, baby, I told you I’d have to go visit some relatives. I’m leaving tomorrow. I arranged for someone to take care of you while I’m gone. You’ll be staying with him for most of the summer.”
“Mother! I don’t need a babysitter!”
“You’re one and a half years old. You do. Who put you to bed last night? And dressed you this morning?”
“I could have done it myself!” The blonde child was looking at his clumsy, pudgy hands, though, and he knew he was deluding himself.
“I’m sure. I want you to go put together what you want to take with you. Not clothes or your schoolbooks; I already took care of those. Just a few toys or something. Your babysitter will be here soon.”
Draco reluctantly went back to his room. It had been turned into a nursery as soon as his mother heard what had happened. He looked around, wondering if there was anything he actually wanted to take. Finally, he decided on a few of his books. . .and not the silly picture books Narcissa had been heaping on him, either. Knowing that he couldn’t carry them, he found a bag and carefully put them in, one at a time. Even one book was hard for him to handle; his fingers were too short for him to grip it.
Dragging his bag behind him, he went to find his mother. Hearing voices in the entry-hall, he paused just outside.
“. . .make sure he’s in bed by eight. He’ll probably want a nap in the afternoon. He can tell you himself when he needs to eat or his diaper needs changed. He’s still teething; not all of his baby teeth have come in yet. He walks reasonably well, except when he forgets he’s not sixteen and his legs aren’t completely stable yet. I provided some things for his care, but there should also be enough money for you to purchase what you need to take care of him in a Muggle environment.”
Her last sentence filling him with dread, he peaked out into the entry hall.
“Oh, there you are, Draco. Come out here.”
But the boy conversing with his mother had turned to see where Narcissa was looking, and Draco recognized him immediately. Of all people, it would be Harry Potter. He tried to back away as quickly as he could, but as his mother had been explaining, his legs really weren’t all that stable and he ended up falling on his rear. He glared bitterly at the green-eyed boy, who was covering his mouth to hide a smile.
Narcissa scooped him up and settled him in a stroller. “Are you all right, baby?”
“I’m fine, Mother!” he snapped.
“Good. Harry Potter will be taking care of you while I travel this summer.” She turned back to the Gryffindor. “Is there anything else you need to know?”
“No, thank you, Ms Black. I should be getting home, though. Tonks and Mad-Eye are waiting.”
She nodded. “Thank you again for looking after Draco for me.” She bent down and kissed the blonde child’s cheek. “Be good, Draco. I’ll miss you. I’ll bring you back a present.”
Draco glared at her and didn’t deign to speak. He was too angry. He jumped slightly when his stroller started moving and craned his head around. Harry was pushing him gently out of the manor. The bag of books he’d gone back to his room for was dangling from Harry’s wrist.
A Ministry limousine and two Aurors were waiting outside. Harry lifted him from the stroller and settled him in a car seat in the limo while the female Auror folded the stroller and put it in the trunk, where he assumed the rest of his things were. Still, Draco’s cold grey eyes, incongruous in his baby face, focused only on Harry. “Potter,” he said finally, when the Gryffindor was sitting across from him.
“Hello, Malfoy. Mind telling me how this happened?”
“My mother thinks I’m incapable of taking care of myself so she’s sending me to spend the summer with you,” Draco answered coldly, knowing perfectly well that wasn’t the question he’d been asked.
“Malfoy. Why do you look like a baby?”
“It’s your fault anyway, Potter. You and your little friends. You hexed me on the train. While the medi-wizards were countering the damage, one of them miscast a charm. The result left me like this.” At that point, the Aurors got into the car, and Harry strapped him into the car seat. He looked for the release button and couldn’t find it.
“You’re going to be staying with Muggles, Malfoy,” Harry said condescendingly. “You have to act like a baby. At least on the surface. Besides, from what your mother said, you might as well be a baby. I mean really, Malfoy, diapers?”
Draco turned red. “Shut up.” He shifted miserably in his car seat, uncomfortably aware that he was wet now.
“Your mother said you’d tell me when you need your diaper changed. Will you, or do I have to guess? Not that I find the idea of changing it appealing.”
Draco was silent for a long moment, his face getting redder and redder. “Fine, Potter,” he snapped finally. “My diaper needs changed. Are you happy?”
“Can it wait until we get home?”
Draco, too humiliated to speak, just nodded.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Quit being a prat.”
“Mother would say I’m eighteen months. A year and a half. A baby, Potter. Still learning to walk, even.”
“Why hasn’t anyone undone it?”
“It was a choice between this and what you and your friends did to me. I chose this, which at least I can grow out of. Of course, at the time, I didn’t expect I’d have to spend my summer with you.”
They fell silent for the rest of the drive. When they finally arrived, Harry helped Draco out of the car before going to the trunk to help the Aurors carry Draco’s things inside. Draco himself toddled after the three, curious in spite of himself. He followed Harry into the house, up the stairs, and into what he assumed was the Gryffindor’s room. It wasn’t in very good shape. Soon, however, the baby things were set up, and the Aurors had left.
“All right, Malfoy, come here.”
“Why?”
“You said you needed your diaper changed.”
Draco obeyed, blushing fiercely. Harry was surprisingly gentle, and he did his best to respect the blonde child’s pride. Draco noted with some surprise that Harry was a natural with children.
When Harry finished, he sat down on the floor in front of the Slytherin. “All right, Malfoy,” he said quietly. “We need to talk. How much of what your mother told me is true, and how much of it was her delight in having a baby again?”
“The physical stuff is true,” Draco said reluctantly. “For example, I need diapers, and I really don’t have all my teeth yet. I don’t need naps in the afternoon. I know how to pace myself. But my mother was right in that I can’t take care of myself very well. Well, you just saw that.”
“Yes, I did. All right. I’m going to go talk to my aunt and uncle for a minute. It’d probably be better if you stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
Draco nodded, and when Harry had left, he went over to his things and took out his potions book, needing both hands and a fair amount of effort. He also got parchment, ink, and a quill. There was no sense in wasting time. He settled down to do his potions homework. He hadn’t been able to get much done at the Manor, with his mother always fretting over him. Now he discovered just how much of a struggle it was going to be. He knew how to write, but getting his pudgy hand to hold the quill properly and go through the motions for writing was proving to be nearly impossible. He was still trying when Harry got back.
Harry watched for a minute before asking, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Go away, Potter.”
“I was just asking!”
“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I’m here of my own free will, Potter. I’ll thank you to disillusion yourself.” At Harry’s scowl, he sighed and said, “I don’t need your help with writing. I know how, but I didn’t when I was one. I just have to re-teach myself.”
Harry nodded. “If you need anything, tell me.”
Draco grimaced and went back to work. He had to take the Gryffindor up on his offer of help a few hours later, though, when his diaper again needed changing. Shortly after that humiliating episode, it was dinner time. To his surprise, Harry carried him downstairs and settled him gently in a high chair. Harry made introductions, and then he served the other people their dinner. To Draco’s surprise, there wasn’t a place set at the table for Harry, and the Gryffindor didn’t eat. Instead, after his relatives had eaten, Harry ate the leftovers. Draco watched from his high chair, confused. His confusion was added to when Harry began doing all the clean up from the meal. “Potter?”
“What, Malfoy? I’m a little busy. Can it wait?”
“Yes.” Draco fell silent and didn’t speak again that evening, even when Harry put him to bed. He lay in his crib with his eyes closed, feigning sleep, while he listened to the quiet scritch of Harry’s quill as the Gryffindor worked on summer assignments. Eventually, the feigned sleep became real.
Several weeks passed. Draco became accustomed to Harry’s company. Harry worked hard for his Muggle relatives, and Draco watched, frequently from a baby carrier on the Gryffindor’s back. His toddling was awkward, and he wouldn’t allow himself to be carried if at all avoidable, so he rode on Harry’s back where he could watch and stay out of the way. He had discovered early on that he’d prefer to be with Harry. He quickly got bored when left to his own devices, his baby’s body unable to perform the tasks he asked of it. In the evenings, they both worked on their summer homework, though they never discussed it. Above all, they were still enemies; they wouldn’t help each other. The enmity was why, when Draco was awakened by Harry screaming with nightmares or sobbing in his sleep, he remained silent, not bringing attention to the pain the Gryffindor was so clearly in. The enmity was why they never spoke of the times when Draco needed his diaper changed, just as the dreams were getting to their worst.
Draco received one letter from his mother, saying that her business was taking longer than she had thought and that she’d be in touch when she could come home. He did not reply.
One surprising thing during the few weeks was that Draco, who was accustomed to nightmares almost as horrific as Harry’s, slept without dreams. That, however, was a blessing too good to last. One night, Draco woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare to find himself being held gently in Harry’s arms, the Gryffindor walking back and forth trying to soothe him. He was crying, terrified and miserable even after he woke. Still, Harry’s gentle arms holding him proved that the nightmare wasn’t real. Gradually, his sobs eased.
“Malfoy?” Harry asked gently.
Draco fisted his pudgy hands in Harry’s pyjamas and didn’t answer, burying his face in the Gryffindor’s shoulder.
“Come on, Malfoy, tell me you’re all right.”
“Can’t,” Draco muttered, his lisp more pronounced than usual.
“What’s wrong?”
Draco shook his head, starting to cry again.
“All right. I’m sorry, Malfoy. Come on, stop crying.” Slowly, Harry managed to calm Draco down. “Nightmare?” he asked gently.
“Yes. Old one. Had it probably since the first time I was this age.”
“Oh. Are you all right now? Can you go back to bed?”
“No. Not after that dream. I never go back to sleep after it except at school.” His lisp was still more pronounced, and Harry correctly assumed that that meant he was still upset.
“How do you go back to sleep at school?”
“Climb into Blaise’s bed. He and I have been friends for years. He’s used to my nightmares, and he has his own, after which I return the favour.”
Harry grimaced. “I can’t keep walking with you all night.”
“You can put me down, you know,” Draco said reluctantly. He felt, to his horror, safe in Harry’s arms.
Harry sighed and shook his head. “No. I know how you’re probably feeling right now. Would you be horrified at sharing a bed with me?”
Draco knew he should protest, knew that at any other time he would have, but he was too tired. The nightmare had left him terrified and exhausted, and not all of that had faded.
Harry tucked them both into his bed, carefully holding the baby Slytherin. Soon they both fell back asleep.
In the morning, Draco woke to see Harry smiling at him.
“It doesn’t feel right to call you Malfoy,” the Gryffindor said thoughtfully. “You are very different as a baby than as a teenager.”
“You could call me Draco. It is my name.”
“It still doesn’t quite suit. It’s fine for you when you’re a teenager, but right now, you really are a baby.”
“My mother,” Draco said after a minute, “called me Dray when I was a baby. The first time. You could call me that.”
“Dray.” He thought about it. “That works.”
“All right, *Harry*, now that we’ve settled my name, will you change my diaper and get up?”
Another week passed. Draco continued to share Harry’s bed, keeping both of their nightmares away. Soon it was Harry’s birthday. Draco watched quietly as the Gryffindor opened his cards and gifts. He had given Harry a book, one of his own favourites. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he had grown closer to Harry as the summer passed. Harry thanked him quietly and shared some of the sweets the Gryffindor’s friends had sent.
Later that week, a letter from the Weasleys arrived, inviting Harry to stay with them for the rest of the summer.
“Dray?” Harry asked when he finished reading it.
Draco looked up. He had been reading and was reluctant to leave his book. “What is it?” he snapped. Soft strands of blonde hair fell into his face, and he resolved, yet again, to get it cut as soon as his mother got back.
“The Weasleys wrote me. They’d like me to come stay with them, like I did last summer. They—I didn’t tell them you’re here, Dray.”
“Thank you for that. I’m humiliated enough with you knowing.”
Momentarily distracted, Harry asked, “What are you going to do about school?”
“I’m going, I hope. I’m not sure, really. Mother never brought it up. Too ecstatic at having her baby back.” His tone was sarcastic and bitter. “I can still learn, though. There’s nothing wrong with my mind. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with my body. What does this have to do with the Weasleys?”
“Nothing, sorry. I was just curious. Dray, I want to go. I want to see my friends.”
“Well don’t let me stop you,” the Slytherin sniffed, both expression and tone entirely out of place with his baby’s face.
“You’d have to come with me.”
“I realize that. Look, Potter, go. I’ll survive. As you’ve pointed out numerous times, I’m a baby. No one’s going to hurt a baby. Might as well get their reactions over with before school starts.”
“There’s one more thing. Can I trust you?”
“Yes. I’m of no use to Voldemort like this.”
“Would you join him if you could?”
Draco was silent for a long moment. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said finally. “I wouldn’t be able to kill in cold blood. Besides, I don’t bow to anyone.”
“All right. We may spend some time at the Headquarters of the Order.”
“I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
Two days later, Tonks and Mad-eye picked them up. “You did tell the Weasleys about him?” Tonks asked sceptically while Harry buckled Draco into his car seat.
Harry looked up at her guiltily, and he shook his head. “Didn’t know how. I figured it’d be better if they could see him.”
The female Auror shook her head in exasperation, and the rest of the trip passed in silence. When they arrived at the Burrow, two red-heads and one brunette came running out to greet their friend. They obviously expected a similar eager response from him, but he instead helped Draco out of the car seat. Ignoring his friends for a moment, he asked, “Walk or ride?”
“Ride,” Draco said decisively, glaring at the approaching people. Harry nodded, and when he finally turned to greet his friends, Draco was in his accustomed place in the baby carrier on the Gryffindor’s back.
“Harry—is that. . ?” Hermione asked, unable to finish the thought.
“It’s a long story, Hermione. Maybe we’d better sit down.”
“No, no,” Tonks said brightly. “Tell them here. I want to hear you explain this one, Harry. And I want all of you to help with the luggage.”
“Even me?” Draco asked cheekily. He liked Tonks. He’d known her before this summer. He smirked as the Weasleys and Granger stared at him.
“Dray,” Harry murmured. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“I’m not making it harder. Now at least you don’t have to explain that I’m not really a baby just because I look like one.” Draco shifted awkwardly in the baby carrier so he could see better and settled in to listen to the explanation.
“Ron, Hermione, Ginny—well, it’s complicated. First, this is Dray.”
Draco snickered.
“As he already said, he’s not really a baby. A mistake was made while some hexes were being removed from him, resulting in this.”
“Harry, if he’s not a baby, who is he?” Hermione asked cautiously.
“He’s someone we all know. Someone that we’re all used to seeing on a regular basis. Dray’s been staying with me because his mother had to travel. He can’t take care of himself very well right now; regardless of who he is and what he knows, he’s still a baby in some ways.”
“Yes, but Harry, who is he?”
Harry coughed and looked anywhere but at his friends. Draco rolled his eyes. “What he’s trying desperately not to say is that I’m Draco Malfoy,” he said crossly. “Dray is short for Draco. Harry decided that neither my first name nor my last was suitable for a baby.”
“MALFOY?” Ron shrieked. Then he started laughing hysterically. “Great joke, Harry!”
Hermione looked at the blonde child more carefully. She walked over to Harry, looking at both boys. “Malfoy?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, Granger?” he asked irritably. “What can I do for our resident know-it-all today?”
“Dray,” Harry scolded gently. “Behave.”
Hermione’s eyes widened, and she turned back to face her other best friend, who was still laughing. “Ron, they’re not joking. That really is Malfoy.”
Draco fidgeted uneasily, blushing. It hadn’t seemed like such a big deal, but now that he was actually here, with Ron Weasley staring at him, face pale with shock, it was a lot more real. He abruptly realized that his diaper needed changing rather badly and groaned. The day just couldn’t get worse, in his opinion. They were going to be stuck out there for hours while Harry explained and re-explained and he got more and more uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong, Dray?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes on his friends.
“Nothing I’m going to bring up in front of them.”
“Dray, they’re my friends. You can trust them.”
“Do you think that means that I want them to know what I have to go through because I’m a baby?” he hissed. He noticed that Hermione had heard the argument and glared at her.
Ron finally snapped out of his shock. “Malfoy?” he asked incredulously. “But he’s a baby!”
“Brilliant observation there, Weasel.”
“Dray!” Harry snapped. “Stop it. You agreed to come.”
Draco grimaced.
“Look,” Harry said to everyone. “This is a shock. I know that. Let’s just get my things inside and talk about it later, when you’ve had sometime to think about it.”
“Will Malfoy be there?” Ron asked angrily, glaring at the blonde child.
“Yes, he will, Ron. Dray can explain some things better than I can, and all of you need to learn to get along. It’s very likely that he’ll be staying with me for the rest of the summer”
“I can’t believe you’re calling that git by a nickname!”
“Ron, look at him. I couldn’t just call him Malfoy. He’s a baby.”
“He’s Malfoy, and he’s evil!”
Harry grimace and started carrying his things up to Ron’s room. His best friends helped, though both of them kept glancing occasionally at the baby on his back. Draco glared back. It was going to be a long three weeks. He knew better than to hope that he could keep the embarrassing details of his situation to himself, and it would give Weasley enough material to humiliate him for the rest of his life.
Finally, all the stuff was in Ron’s room. “Would you excuse us for a couple minutes?” Harry asked his friends quietly. “I need to talk to Dray.”
“Sure, Harry,” Hermione said gently, pulling Ron out despite his protests.
When they were alone, Harry said, “All right, Dray. What did you need that you wouldn’t say in front of them?”
“My diaper needs changed,” Draco said grumpily.
Harry nodded. “I thought so.” He lifted Draco out of the baby carrier, holding him gently. “I thought you’d gotten over being embarrassed about that?”
“I had—with you. But Harry, I’m sixteen years old, and your friends reminded me of that. I shouldn’t need to wear diapers. It was bad enough that I wore them until I was eleven.”
“Eleven? But that’s when you started Hogwarts.”
“That’s right. I was a very spoiled child, but uneducated. Mother always said she’d teach me, so Father shouldn’t get me tutors or anything, but she never did. I barely had rudimentary reading and writing when I started school, and that was what I picked up on my own. Severus taught me. He’d spend hours with me, helping me with my assignments, teaching me what I should have learned, cleaning up the messes I made because I hadn’t. He never told anyone except the Headmaster.”
“Didn’t your roommates know?”
“No. Only Blaise.”
“That explains some things.” Harry fastened the clean diaper onto the blonde child and started dressing him again. “You know you won’t be able to hide this forever. Ron and Hermione will figure it out.”
“Later is better than sooner.”
“It’s your choice, of course. Let’s go down and talk to them now.”
Draco grimaced. He toddled reluctantly after Harry, but he stopped at the stairs. They were steep and a little uneven. Finally, he sat and crawled backwards down the stairs.
“Do you want help?” Harry asked.
“I can do it.” He got to the bottom and stood up, turning around to find that his awkward descent had been witnessed. “Granger.”
“Malfoy.” She turned to her friend. “Harry, I think you need to talk to Ron alone for a bit. I can watch Malfoy.”
Harry nodded. “Dray, do you mind?”
Draco looked sulky, but he agreed.
“Come on, Malfoy,” Hermione ordered. “Let’s go outside and leave them to talk.”
Draco toddled after her, glaring. “I’m not yours to order about, Granger!”
“No, you aren’t. But you’ll do it, or I’ll carry you. Wouldn’t that be a sight to see? The great Draco Malfoy carried by a Gryffindor Muggle-born.”
“I’m coming as fast as I can, Granger,” Draco snapped. “I don’t walk all that well yet.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Finally, fed up with his slow pace, she scooped him up and carried him outside, much less gently than Harry. Draco had become accustomed to being treated gently while staying with Harry, and this roughness bothered him. Besides, it hurt.
“Put me down, Granger!”
“When have we ever done what you told us to?”
“You’re hurting me! Put me down!” He writhed and fought in her hold, trying desperately to get away.
“Don’t be a baby, Malfoy.” She shook him lightly, trying to get him to stop fighting her, but he cried out in pain. Immediately, Harry came running out.
“Hermione, give him to me!” He took Draco in his arms, holding the blonde child as gently as he could. “Are you all right, Dray?”
“No!” Draco glared at the girl from his safer—in his opinion—position in Harry’s arms. “It hurt!”
“I know, Dray, I know.” He soothed Draco gently before turning to Hermione. “Do you have any experience with babies?”
“Some,” Hermione admitted.
“Then why were you treating him like that? You don’t hold a baby like that, and you certainly don’t shake it. You could have really hurt him.”
“But he’s Malfoy—he’s not really a baby!”
“Yes, he is, Hermione. Physically, anyway. You’ve already seen exactly how well he can walk.”
“But that means he won’t have all of his teeth—he’ll have to eat. . .”
“Soft foods,” Draco finished for her, “since I refuse to eat baby food.”
“And you wear. . ?”
Draco looked away, blushing. “Yes, Granger, I need diapers.” He grimaced in distaste, having hoped to keep that secret for a while longer. He shifted awkwardly in Harry’s arms, looking anywhere but at the girl. Reluctantly, he added, “It’s part of why I have to stay with Harry. I can’t change them myself.” He held out his small, pudgy hands for examination. “These don’t do that much.”
“That’s what you didn’t want to talk about in front of us earlier?”
Draco nodded, and then had to push his hair out of his face again. “I think you can understand why, Granger. Weasley would and will make my life a misery.”
“Speaking of Ron, I need to talk to him still. Dray, you’ll come with me, all right? I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”
“Fine by me. I’m not going anywhere with your friends again.” He glared at Hermione one more time before Harry took him back into the house.
There were four weeks left until they had to go back to school. Three of them passed peacefully. Draco avoided confrontation and stayed close to Harry, willing to let the Gryffindor defend him until his body grew up a bit more. They didn’t go to stay with the Order, though many of its members were frequent visitors. Draco was pleased that he wasn’t the only one asked to find another place to be when they were present. He adjusted to this new schedule, reluctant as he was to live with people his father had taught him to hate. Mrs Weasley mothered him gently, able to accept that he was older than he looked but also accustomed to dealing with small children after her own large brood. She cooked foods that he could eat and always knew exactly what to do for the pain of a tooth coming in or the rash caused by the diapers he had to wear.
But the part Draco really *enjoyed* was the flying. He was too small to handle a broom himself, but he found that he liked riding in the baby carrier while Harry did all the actual work. Even he had to admit that the other boy was good on a broom.
At the end of the third week, Dumbledore came to see them. The three sat down in the gardens, away from the Weasleys and Hermione.
“Draco, Harry, I have some news that affects both of you.”
“You heard from my mother, didn’t you?” Draco asked.
“I did indeed. She is still caught up in France, and she is not likely to return for at least another month. Draco, what do you wish to do about school? I would like it if you would return for your sixth year regardless of your appearance, but it is up to you.”
“I want to go back, if accommodations can be made.”
“They can be. You’ll have to stay with someone, much as you have this summer.”
Draco turned to look at Harry. “Would you be willing, Harry?”
“Sure, Dray.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Which one of you will change your schedule? Harry, you take Divinations, and Draco, you take Ancient Runes.”
“I’ll change,” Draco offered.
“Good, good. I’ll go take care of that. See you both in a week.” He started to leave, then turned around. “Oh. You’ve probably wondered why you didn’t get your OWLs back, both of you. Here.” He handed Harry an envelope and left.
Harry looked at their results and grinned. “We will be in the same classes. We got similar results.” He handed the parchment to the blonde child. “Snape isn’t going to be happy.”
“No, probably not.”
The day before school started, they went to Diagon Alley. Draco complained bitterly about the trip by Floo, particularly as Harry still couldn’t come out on his feet.
Finally fed up, Harry said, “Oh, be quiet, Dray. I didn’t land on you.”
Draco subsided, settling himself more comfortably in the baby carrier. They got their schoolbooks first, right after Gringotts, and then headed to Madame Malkin’s. They were there for a while, the seamstress having trouble coming up with Hogwarts uniforms that would fit the baby Slytherin.
Finally, they were finished and could go back to the Burrow to pack. Draco fretted that he couldn’t pack for himself and watched Harry’s every movement with eagle eyes so that nothing would be forgotten.
Edgy and nervous even once the packing was finished, he toddled over to the window and scrambled to pull himself up onto the window seat, staring out unhappily.
“Worried about how everyone will treat you?”
“Yes.”
Harry sighed and sat beside Draco. They watched the stars together through most of the night. “Dray?”
“Mm?”
“Are you going to be able to do this? All of the Houses but yours hate you, and yours won’t accept you as you are now.”
“I know. I’ll handle it. Besides, I’ll be with you. Probably until we graduate, if you’re willing. I’ll only be physically three at that point.”
“You can stay with me as long as you need to, regardless of what spells you are or are not under. As long as you aren’t being Malfoy the prat, that is. I’ve grown rather attached to you as you are now.”
“You and your friends aren’t blameless, Harry,” Draco said quietly, his voice the closest to his old drawl it had been since he’d been returned to the state of a baby, though his lisp was still noticeable. “You have taunted me and humiliated me, too. The whole rivalry started when you insulted me while I was just trying to be friendly.”
“By insulting Ron.”
“Because he laughed at my name.”
“That was five years ago. An awfully long time for either of us to hold a grudge, isn’t it? Don’t you think we could put it behind us? We got along this summer.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice, but yes, we did manage. Much as I am loath to admit it, I’ve grown attached to you, too.” He held out his hand. “Friends?”
Harry carefully clasped the tiny, pudgy hand in his own, and they shook. “Friends. There. Now you have one friend at school. Do you think you’ll be all right?”
“I’ll have to be.”
“Dray. . .”
“I think that may cause more trouble than what I am.”
“What?”
“The fact that we’re getting along. Like you said, the other three houses hate me, and mine hates you. Your friends couldn’t even accept me. I heard you and Weasley arguing. You had to tell Granger to leave me alone. Not that I don’t appreciate it, but it did happen.”
“I know. I heard you and Ron exchange insults a few times, too, when you woke up before I did. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convince them that you aren’t as bad as they think.”
“You probably won’t. I am exactly what they think I am. I’m not sorry for anything I said or did. I’d do it again, except I wouldn’t do it to you. I no longer have any desire to hurt you. You’re like one of my Slytherins, my responsibility.”
“I thought it was the other way around,” Harry teased gently, lifting the blonde child into his lap.
“I’m not a baby, however much I may look like one,” Draco answered without rancour, settling himself more comfortably. “I may not be able to take care of myself physically, but socially, I’m much more adept than you.”
“Will you still be able to take advantage of that?”
“I hope so. Most of it is through words anyway. It shouldn’t matter what I look like or that I speak the necessary phrases with a lisp. I’m still the same person. The only problem I’ll have is when it goes beyond words.”
Harry smiled. “Feel better?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
They went to bed near dawn, to catch the few hours of sleep left before they had to go.
The Burrow was, as always, chaos as everyone tried desperately to finish getting ready. Draco stayed happily out of the entire mess, already settled comfortably on Harry’s back where he could watch everyone else in amusement. Harry, though he himself hadn’t forgotten anything, was kept running after Ron’s things that had been left lying around. He had delayed as long as he could, even going so far as to pull Draco’s hair back so the soft, too-long locks would for once stay out of the blonde child’s face. He had noticed his charge’s irritation.
Finally, they got to the station, the Aurors escorting them aboard the train. Some strange glances were thrown their way, but most of the other students were too busy finding their friends and compartments to bother with the odd group.
Harry and Draco were escorted to a compartment at the back of the train where the baby Slytherin was, to his disgust, buckled into something similar to his car seat. “Why?” he demanded when the Aurors had left. “There aren’t any Muggles here forcing us to keep up the pretence.”
“You aren’t steady on your feet. You wouldn’t be able to keep your balance easily while the train is moving. That seat will keep you safe.”
“And confined and out of the way. Understood.”
“Dray, I’m sorry; I didn’t plan this or ask for it. The Aurors brought us here. I’m just guessing the reason, really, but you have to admit it makes sense.”
Draco reluctantly agreed and settled back in his seat, fiddling with the straps that held him to make them more comfortable. “You’ll have to let me out to change me.”
“Let you out? You sound like I have you in a cage.”
“I’m trapped, aren’t I?”
Harry didn’t say anything. He’d already apologised, and even the blonde child admitted that it was safer. There was nothing left he could say.
A couple hours into the trip, Pansy Parkinson stormed into their compartment. Spotting Harry, she shouted, “What did you do with him, Potter? Where’s my Drakie-poo? Where *is*. . .”
“Cool it, Parkinson,” Draco snapped. “I’m right here, and you’re giving me a headache with your shrieking.” As an after thought, he added, “And I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that.”
Pansy turned slowly to find the source of the high, lisping voice that still managed to sound like Draco Malfoy. “Drakie?” She saw the baby Slytherin and burst into tears.
Harry took advantage of the distraction to lift Draco out of his seat, holding him carefully so he was on eye level with his housemate. It also had the advantage that Pansy couldn’t grab him and inadvertently hurt him.
“Thanks, Harry,” Draco muttered before turning his attention to the girl. “Pansy! Stop acting like a fool. You’re disgracing the house in front of a Gryffindor!”
“And you’re not, Draco? Potter’s holding you like a baby, and you aren’t even fighting him! What has he done to you? Come with me, and I’ll make sure Pomfrey fixes you right up.”
“Go if you want,” Harry murmured. “She is your housemate.”
“No. Pansy, Harry is holding me like a baby because I am a baby. It isn’t his fault, either. Pomfrey can’t fix it because it’s the medi-wizards’ fault in the first place. They messed up when they were fixing me, and I ended up a baby again. You and the rest of the House will leave Harry alone. Undersand?”
The tone demanded obedience, and Pansy didn’t think about the fact that the order came from someone who was essentially little more than a baby. She said, “Yes, Draco,” and hurried off to spread the word. Most of the Slytherins had learned early on to obey Draco when he used that tone or the consequences would be severe.
“I’m amazed that still works,” Draco muttered. “It’s based entirely on intimidation, and I’m not that intimidating when I can’t even speak without a lisp. Or dress myself. Or change my own diapers. Or even walk!”
“You can walk, Dray,” Harry offered, trying to be comforting. He couldn’t dispute the other ones.
“Not very well. That’s why you always carry me, remember?”
“Do you want to walk more often?”
“What, and let everyone see me toddling about, falling on my arse, and crawling up and down the stairs? No thank you.”
Harry nodded. “We should probably put on our uniforms. I’ll change you first, all right?”
“Diaper too.”
“Of course.”
When Draco was dressed in his uniform, he was quickly settled back in his seat, despite his protests. He fussed with the straps again, trying to make them more comfortable and give him more room to move. He knew he had to look incredibly silly, dressed in miniature Hogwarts robes and confined in what amounted to a Muggle car seat. He was still sulking when the trolley came by, but soft sweets that he could eat even without all his baby teeth eventually coaxed him into a better mood.
Finally, they arrived at the station. Harry debated on whether or not to take any of Draco’s things with them, but eventually, he ended up carrying only the blonde child. Really, that was enough for anyone. He called a greeting to Hagrid, but he didn’t stop to chat. He wanted to get to the coaches as quickly as possible, before anyone questioned the baby Slytherin.
“What’ll meals be like here?” Draco asked quietly once they were in the carriage. “At the Dursleys’, I had to sit in that chair, and at the Weasleys’, you fed me. Literally. Or Mrs Weasley did.”
“I don’t know. I think we’ll find out in a second, though.” Indeed, the moment they got out of the carriage, McGonagall was bearing down on them.
“Malfoy, Potter, come with me please.” She led them to her office and told Harry to take a seat.
“Professor?”
“I brought you here because of the special circumstances concerning you both this year. Mr Malfoy, while I am not happy at having a Slytherin in Gryffindor tower, a crib has been placed in Mr Potter’s dormitory for you. You will find special raised chairs that will place you at the appropriate level in your classes and at the Gryffindor table for meals. Mr Potter, if you need any extra things to help you care for Mr Malfoy, see Madam Pomfrey or me immediately.”
“Yes, Professor,” Harry said. Draco stayed silent, blushing.
“Good. If you have no questions, please go join the rest of the school.”
They obeyed. Draco fidgeted unhappily in Harry’s arms, edgy about having to face the whole school. “Easy, Dray,” the Gryffindor murmured. “You’ll be fine. You know you will. Your Slytherins still listen to you, if Pansy’s any indication. Really, she’s the smartest Slytherin I know. Except maybe Zabini.”
“Hey!”
“It’s true, you know.” Harry grinned and walked into the Great Hall while Draco was still protesting. He managed to get them settled at the Gryffindor table while the Slytherin was still distracted. “We’re here, Dray.”
Draco’s mouth snapped shut as he scanned the Hall anxiously. His housemates were watching him but seemed disinclined to interfere, which meant Pansy had passed on what he had said accurately. A few of the other students were starting to look at him curiously, but the entrance of the first years, the sorting, and the feast itself kept everyone distracted.
Finally, Harry carried him up to Gryffindor tower. The other boys in their year, except Ron, were gaping at the crib situated near Harry’s bed.
“Hello Neville, Seamus, Dean.”
The three boys jumped and turned to face the last residents of the room. “Harry?”
“Yes. Listen, I’m tired, so I’m just going to explain this once.” He shifted Draco in his arms so the others could clearly see the blonde child. “This is Draco Malfoy. The same Draco Malfoy you’ve known for the past five years. He’s staying with me. Leave him alone.”
Draco studied those in the room before deciding that none of them was a threat and ignoring them as Harry was doing, though he still blushed fiercely when the dark-haired boy began to undress him for bed.
“Do you want to try sleeping in the crib or keep sleeping with me?” Harry asked.
“With you, if you don’t mind.”
“If I did, you would have heard about it a while ago, Dray.”
Finally, when they were both in bed with the curtains drawn, they heard the other boys breaking out of their shock and getting ready to sleep themselves.
In the morning, people were still unsure what to think about Draco, though word quickly spread through Gryffindor about who he was. Finally, the entire House appeared to reach the consensus that they’d ignore him—and the person he was staying with.
Classes that morning were hard. Even though the professors had been warned about what had happened to him, they still stared when Harry first carried him into the room.
Still, things gradually settled into a routine, and the school year was, for once, peaceful. Christmas holidays approached rapidly without anything interrupting their schedule. Draco and Harry both put their names on the list of people to stay over the holidays.
Draco’s birthday, December fifth, came on the day that everyone else left for home. After dinner that night, he and Harry sat together in the common room. Harry gave him his present.
“It isn’t much,” the Gryffindor said quietly. “It’s not even your real present, not really. Do you need help opening it?”
“I’m two today, remember?” Draco teased, chuckling. “I think I can manage.” He slowly unwrapped the present, fighting with his clumsy hands. Inside was a stuffed dragon in an amazing shade of neon green with silver spikes. “Harry. . . ?”
“I thought it might amuse you. You’re real present isn’t as tangible.”
“What is it?”
Harry hesitated, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hardly above a whisper. “What would you say if I told you I might be able to make you seventeen again?”
Draco’s head shot up, baby fine hair falling into his eyes. “Don’t tell me that, Harry,” he pleaded. “Don’t tell me that unless you mean it. I can handle being a baby now, but if you get my hopes up, I won’t be able to. I’ve gotten used to this, Harry. I’m *resigned* to having to grow up again. Please don’t torment me.”
Harry sighed. “I hate to do this to you, Dray,” he muttered. Aloud he said, “Used to it? Resigned to being humiliated every day? Used to having to have me do everything for you? Dray, I can’t promise this will work. But isn’t it better to try? Will you at least hear me out?”
Suddenly finding himself wanting to hold the dragon he’d been given, Draco clutched it to his chest, burying his face in the soft scales. “Very well.”
The Gryffindor pulled his charge into his lap, holding the blonde child soothingly. “Thank you, Dray. I do think this will work. I know every hex and curse that was cast on you and in what order. I know the counter curses. I know how to space the removals so that your body has time to re-accustom itself. There are fifteen hexes on you. Including today, there are twenty-one days until Christmas. Spacing the spells with more than the minimum allotted time, considering how long it has been, I could remove one a day. You would be yourself again by Christmas, if it works.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“I can return you to your current form. You’d only lose a few days, and you could gain a lot.”
“I-I need to think about this.”
“Of course. I’m going to go flying. You can take care of yourself for that long?”
“I can. Thanks.”
Late that night, curled up in Harry’s protective embrace, Draco gave his answer. “Can we start tomorrow?” he asked.
“Tomorrow morning, first thing. Get some sleep, Dray.”
“Will you stop calling me that if I get back to being seventeen?”
“If you want me to.”
“I don’t,” Draco said fiercely, curling tighter into the Gryffindor’s arms and determinedly trying to go to sleep.
The next morning, after breakfast, Harry carried Draco out of the tower. “I already told the Headmaster what we’ll be doing. He’s provided a different room for us, with everything we’ll need for the next fifteen days. You won’t be able to do much of anything for the time this takes.”
“How is that different from now?” Draco muttered.
“Don’t you remember what we did to you? The most major curses we cast first. The minor stuff, like boils and jelly-legs, came after we’d already incapacitated you. We never Stunned you.”
“I remember.”
They came to a statue of an old wizard, and Harry muttered the password. Draco wasn’t given time to look around inside because Harry immediately began undressing him. When he was completely naked, he was settled in what was basically a nest of pillows and blankets.
“I’ll make you as comfortable as I can, but this isn’t going to be pleasant,” Harry warned quietly. “Are you ready?”
Draco bit his lip and nodded, closing his eyes as the Gryffindor raised his wand.
Soon he was back in the state he’d been in on the train the previous year; he looked like nothing so much as an ugly, purple slug oozing slime all over everything.
The next twelve days were spent removing the most minor hexes, in the reverse of the order in which they had been cast. The effort was taking its toll on Harry. Even in the condition Draco was in, he could see that. He could see the way the Gryffindor’s hands trembled while he was being fed, see it in how long the dark-haired boy had taken to sleeping, but Harry was never anything but kind to his charge.
On the day the twelfth curse was removed, leaving only the three most serious ones, Harry collapsed after countering the curse.
Draco still resembled a slug, although not a purple one, and his hair, eyes, and face were for the most part back to normal. His limbs were still fused with each other and his body, completely seamlessly, leaving no sign that he’d ever had arms and legs, hands and feet, fingers and toes. His bones, even his teeth, were still altered, having been made soft and malleable as jelly. He also, to his disgust, still oozed that horrible slime from every pore of his body.
Still, he pushed all of that aside when he saw Harry collapse. He knew he couldn’t walk, but he found that with a great deal of effort, he could push himself forward on the slime he was continuously excreting. Slowly, he made his way over to Harry. Once there, he wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t shake Harry without hands, and he really didn’t want to get the other boy covered in his slime, no matter how understanding the dark-haired boy had been. He called the Gryffindor, voice awkward and words malformed, but Harry seemed to wake a little. He called again and again, and finally dazed emerald eyes opened.
“Dray. . . ?”
“I’m here, Harry.” He didn’t know if the Gryffindor would understand his mangled words, but he did try.
“What happened?”
“You wore yourself out trying to fix me. You collapsed.”
“I did? Merlin, Dray, I’m sorry.” Harry struggled to his feet, levitating Draco back to the nest. “I’ll get you breakfast right away.” He started for the kitchen area.
“Harry!”
The Gryffindor turned.
“For Merlin’s sake, think about yourself today. I’m all right. Go sleep and eat and leave me to my own devices.”
“But Dray. . .”
“Don’t argue with me. I’m not a child anymore. Don’t treat me like one.”
Since the entire point of these two weeks was to make sure Draco wasn’t a child anymore, Harry complied reluctantly. He slept for most of the day, waking only to eat and feed the Slytherin. Draco watched him, worrying.
The next morning, Harry got up looking determined to continue. Draco, after studying him for a moment, said, “Maybe we should wait a day.”
“Do you *want* to live like this?” Harry asked incredulously, staring at his charge in wide-eyed astonishment.
“No! I hate this. But if you’re too tired to cast the spell, it won’t do anyone any good. I don’t want you to burn yourself out helping me. You’re needed. I’m expendable. It won’t matter in the long run if I spend the rest of my *life* as a *slug*, but no can afford to lose you.”
“I didn’t think you cared about any of that.”
“Surprise. I do. Don’t cast the spell on me unless you’re sure you’re up to it.”
“I am.”
“All right. I trust you.”
Draco closed his eyes as he heard the counter curse whispered. He tensed as best he could, feeling his bones solidify. Finally, it was over. He opened his eyes and surveyed himself. “Well, this is awkward,” he muttered. “Now I’m a slimy slug with bones.”
“Only for another day, Dray,” Harry replied tiredly. “Two days and you’ll be back to normal.”
“You hope.” Seeing the exhausted exasperation on Harry’s face, Draco sighed. “Sorry. Go to bed. I didn’t mean it.”
He still watched the Gryffindor worriedly, becoming even more anxious when Harry collapsed again after undoing the hex that made him ooze slime. Still, Harry was as determined on the fifteenth day as he had been on the first. The final hex was removed on schedule.
Draco stood shakily. He had done very little walking for the past six months and needed to remember how. “Harry, I. . .”
But the Gryffindor cut him off. “No, Dray. Not now. You’re back to yourself. You aren’t dependant on me any more, so the relationship between us has to change. You and I don’t have to stay friends if you don’t want. You need to think about it. You can’t just make the decision now. You should go see Madam Pomfrey. There are clothes for you in the wardrobe. I’ll-I’ll be in Gryffindor Tower, if you. . .” He trailed off and left, not knowing what else to say.
He spent the rest of the days before Christmas moping in the Tower, being the only Gryffindor to have stayed. He didn’t even leave for meals, having Dobby bring them up. On Christmas Eve, he resigned himself to the fact that his new friend wasn’t coming and went to bed miserable.
Sometime after midnight, someone nudged him. “Move over,” a slightly lisping voice demanded. “I’m not as small as I used to be.”
Harry shot up. “Dray?”
“It’s me.” With a muttered *lumos*, the room was lit up, revealing the blonde Slytherin sitting cautiously on the edge of the bed.
“Why are you still lisping?” Abruptly realising that that question probably wasn’t the best start to the conversation, he tried to take it back.
“Harry, don’t worry about it. I know. Pomfrey said it’s psychological. Because I spent so long as a baby, some things became habit. She’s not sure I’ll ever be—completely comfortable in my own body again, I suppose.”
“So it didn’t work. I suppose you want to go back and grow up again?”
“No! Honestly, Harry. The effects aren’t major.”
“What are they?”
“Mostly, I’m a little clumsy. You already noticed my lisp. She said I should have tried to walk more as a baby, because I’m completely out of practice and may never be quite steady. She’s not sure quite how much of this I’ll grow out of. I also,” he grimaced, blushing lightly, “still need diapers.”
“Will that be permanent?”
“She doesn’t know. Almost definitely at night, possibly by day. Harry, this isn’t why I came up here. I’ve been dealing with it for the past few days.”
“Why are you here, Dray?”
“You said I needed to think before I made any decision about what’s going to happen between us. You were right. I’m not a child, and I don’t want the same things. I don’t need to be taken care of.”
Harry sighed, looking away. “So what do you want?” he asked unhappily.
“Right now? To get a good night’s sleep. I’ve gotten used to sharing your bed, and I haven’t slept right since I went to the Hospital Wing.”
The Gryffindor relaxed and scooted over. “Let’s sleep, then.”
Draco climbed in, settling comfortably in the familiar embrace, and doused his wand. For a long time there was silence. Finally, the Slytherin turned to face Harry. “Remember,” he whispered. “I’m older now. I want different things.” He hesitated for a long moment, studying the dark green eyes in the little light from the window. “Happy Christmas, Harry,” he whispered, and kissed Harry soundly on the lips.
End
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