Sometimes life is not easy. Sometimes having babies was the worst mistake someone could ever do. Severus Snape, Potion Master of Hogwarts of Witchcraft and spy for the Order of Phoenix was in a dilemma. He wanted to turn the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ to the ‘Boy-Who-Finally-Died’. Yet he suspected that the Headmaster was not going to be very pleased about such a thing. Killing the only hope for World’s Peace was unforgivable. On the other hand; a life-sentence in Azkaban did not sounded as bad as Snape may have thought. After all he was going to, finally, have some Peace and Quiet. It was official. Potter was driving him insane!

“Boy, come here this instance!” Snape shouted feeling extremely annoyed by the toddler’s behavior.

“No!” little Harry shouted while he ran away from his guardian.

No, no, no! That was everything he had been hearing the whole weekend. He knew that the Healer could not be trusted. Snape was sure; that Poppy was aware that baby Harry would turn from the ‘obedient’ 13-month old of last week to a 17-month old from Hell. But had she warned him about it? Of course she didn’t. So there he is, Severus Snape, stuck with the most irritating toddler of the whole wide World.

In the beginning Potter’s first ‘No’ was a huge shock for the raven-haired man. No one had ever dared to defy him. Apart from the Headmaster. . . Oh and McGonagall. . . And Flitwick. . . And. . . Ok, ok, many people would defy him. But those were the members of Hogwarts’ faculty. They were much older than he was; and they were allowed to do that. Students, on the other hand, were always obedient. Potter was not!

After baby Harry let out his first ‘No’ it was as if a curse had fallen on poor Snape’s head. For it seemed that baby Harry would let out this monosyllable word just for the fun of it. Snape would give Harry some pumpkin-juice. The boy would state ‘No’ so that he could ask for some juice himself a couple of minutes later. At first it was shocking, it then turned funny, but two days later it was devastatingly irritating.

“You are going to see Madam Pomfrey, if you get dressed” Snape said hoping that baby Harry would come closer.

“No!”

Snape frowned for a couple of moment. Yet he suddenly smirked. He had a devious idea that would, at least, make his day. Smirking slightly, he asked dangerously.

“Do you think you are cleverer that me, Boy?”

Baby Harry stared at his guardian for a couple of seconds. His eyes glinted mischievously and letting out a giggle he cried out loud:

“YES!”

“This is not what I expected,” Snape thought for a moment closing his eyes as a wave of defeat hit him.

He sat on his bed feeling exhausted. And the worst part was that the day had not even started yet. He lied on his back, closed his eyes for some moments and vowed to skin Potter alive when he would return to his normal age. When he opened his eyes, he saw a blur vision of an upside-down someone looking at him. As his vision got clearer he caught himself looking at two serious emerald-green eyes. Snape felt his face’s lines stretching to an unwanted two-second smile that he dismissed with a scowl. He, then, turned to the toddler and let out a sigh of defeat. Yet, at that moment epiphany hit him and Snape could not help but smirk. He had an idea. And the best part was; that he could not lose this time.

“What if I let you chose my clothes and you let me chose yours Boy? Would you, then, let me dress you up?” Snape asked baby Harry as he took him into his arms.

Baby Harry looked down as his eyes darkened to resemble the teenage Potter’s ones. Once again the raven-haired man was reminded of the sixteen-year old Potter’s way of thinking in Potions. It was as if the boy was weighing his options before answering to him. Finally the little boy nodded and Snape let him down as he waved his wand for his wardrobe to open.

While baby Harry was spending his time searching his guardian’s wardrobe, Snape was feeling satisfied with himself. At last, the Boy had lost a battle. There was nothing in Snape’s wardrobe that could make him feel highly mortified. The only clothing items he owned that was not black, was a set of grey robes that was used in very important occasions. And grey was the best option for him after black. He watched baby Harry crawling inside his wardrobe and smirked. Yet his smirk was erased when he heard a squeal of satisfaction coming from baby Harry. He had suddenly remembered about THEM!

“Oh Merlin’s Pointed Hat, I am doomed!” Snape thought in horror as he watched Harry crawling out of his wardrobe, drugging three packages with him.

“Potter, there is no power in the Wizarding World that will make me wear any of these robes!” Snape protested, cursing himself for not remembering Dumbledore’s annual birthday gift. Colourful robes. Baby Harry, however, stared at Snape with a ‘But-You-Promised!’ look that made him let out a sigh in defeat.

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Meanwhile in Hell

Devil: Is it my idea, or is it getting cold in here?

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-)-)-)

Madam Pomfrey was arranging some freshly clean towels in one of the Hospital Wing’s cupboards when she heard a faint knock on the door. As she was busy, she flicked her wand for the door to open; and then turned to greet her visitors. For a couple of moments she remained false-faced. Baby Harry was sitting on the floor and seemed to drag someone’s foot.

After a few seconds of a fight, Severus Snape entered the Hospital Wing, coughing a weak ‘Poppy’ in the process. The Potion Master pushed the toddler inside the room and stared at the Healer. His eyes lowered and feeling extremely embarrassed he rushed out of the room as quickly as he could. He moved down the stairs, while in the mirror of his head he saw Poppy’s expression over and over again. She was shocked at first, but soon enough, or it may was Snape’s idea, she was examining him in an appreciating manner.

-)-)-)

Ron Weasley was sitting, or better, half-lying; on his work-table in Snape’s classroom. By Circe he was bored to death! And the lesson had not started yet. He absolutely detested Monday mornings, since he started going to school. Potions was also not his favorite subject. Adding the factor of Potions in early Monday mornings made Ron’s first early hours unbearable. Not only was he forced to leave the warmness of his bed, but he also had to endure the most boring lesson when the only thing he wanted was to return back the comfort of the mattress. And the worst part of all was that he had no one to talk to. After all, Hermione was not as lesson-carefree as Harry was.

“Oh mate, you really had to turn into an infant!” he thought supporting his head with his hand.

He looked at Draco Malfoy, who was also in the same sitting position and was cutting small pieces of parchment, crumbled them and threw them to the floor. He, then, turned his attention to the door, expecting the ‘Greasy Git’ to enter in his usual abrupt way. He put his Sugar Quill into his mouth giving a mental order to himself to dispose it the moment Snape would enter the classroom.

That moment the door opened slowly and the Potion Master entered inside the classroom cautiously, as if he was afraid that he would cause someone a heart-attack. The effect would have been priceless to Dumbledore’s eyes. For everyone’s eyes; including Draco Malfoy’s, who was rarely taken by surprise, bulged and they all stared at their professor in a speechless shock.

The raven-haired man seriously believed that Albus Dumbledore was a sadistic old wizard. Every year he would give him a set of colourful robes just to irritate him. Five years ago, when Gilderoy Lockhart, Professor Vanity himself, was teaching at Hogwarts, the Headmaster thought that it would be a nice idea to gift him with a similar-in-style set of Lockhart’s robes, only in different colour.

Therefore, Severus Snape was now wearing a big-sleeved, silk shirt over a pair of ink-black trousers; and over it, a dark purple vest. Around his neck there was a disgusting frilly scarf-like thing that was kept tied with a round gold pin that had an onyx stone in the middle. And to conclude with that mockery of robes, he was wearing a dark purple vest cloak over the whole thing.

Snape stared at his students with venomous, glaring eyes. Each and every one’s eyes were transfixed on him as if he was a strange exotic animal. But, secretly admitting it to himself, the sight of him with colorfoul robes was even weirder than a mental image of the Dark Lord licking a scoop from an ice-cream cone. Shuddering slightly by the thought, he stared at his students. Miss Granger had gone pink, something that caused him to snicker and Mr. Weasley had covered his mouth but his eyes portrayed someone who was fighting a laugh and his bemusement. Mr. Malfoy, however, was the epitome of the entire class. His ice-grey eyes were fully open and his mouth was hanging loose from shock. Suddenly Snape felt unable to control himself. Turning to the blackboard he coughed, trying to mix up his faint chuckling. He, then, pointed his wand to the blackboard and the lesson begun.

-)-)-)

By noon every student of Hogwarts had learnt an important lesson. When your Potion Master wears coloured robes, then you must be afraid. Be Very Afraid! Those who believed that the Greasy Git could not get any merciless, in terms of homework, sarcasm and reduction of points, soon discovered that they were mistaken. Maybe the fact that he had been forced to teach with purple robes had burn a circuit in the hook-nosed professor’s head. This could only explain why he had took five House-points from Hufflepuff with the excuse that one girl’s glasses were ‘too round’ as he had said.

That day many students, even ones coming from the Slytherin house, wished the Greasy Git violent torture and a painful death. But no one could suspect what would happen that day during their meal.

It all started by the 17-months Harry’s explorations. The purple-robed professor, who was usually dressed in black, had come to the decision that a good meal was more enjoyable when the ‘green-eyes menace’ was already fed. Therefore, after baby Harry had devoured his mashed peas with carrots, Snape whipped the boy’s face from any trace of food and placed him on Great Hall’s floor. He, then, returned to his golden plate, which was instantly filled with hot soup; and mentally reminded his self of keeping an eye on the boy every once and a while.

Meanwhile baby Harry looked around with his olive-green eyes. His eyes searched the room and stopped at the Gryffindor Table. His eyes were light with happiness and he instantly squeaked in satisfaction.

“Wed”

It seemed that baby Harry had ‘curiously’ developed a love about the red colour and seeing the Gryffindor table, he became overly excited. He stood up and walked as quickly as his little feet would help him do so. Reaching the Gryffindor Table, he crawled down and stopped near a red-headed teenage girl, who was having a low, yet rather irritated, conversation with a tall red-headed boy.

“Ron will you leave me alone?” she hissed dangerously.

Ron fell silent for a couple of seconds before he would stubbornly ask.

“It’s that boy, Bobby, from Ravenclaw?”

“Not of your damn business!” Ginny said stressing each word dangerously, not looking at her brother.

“Tell me.”

“No!”

“Tell me!”

“No Ron! No! No! It’s not of your. . .”

Ginny Weasley was about to say something that would have made a sailor’s mother proud, but she stopped as she felt something soft and round between hers and her brother’s ribs. She turned her head sideways, as her brother did exactly the same thing. Looking down he saw two round green eyes looking both at her and Ron, while smiling. The red-headed teenage girl could not help but smile both to the little boy and to her brother’s bemused expression.

Ron Weasley looked at the small boy as if he had just heard Hermione Granger saying that she felt too bored to study. After all, looking at a smaller version of his best friend’s self was too awkward. Even for him that had the two, most eccentric, people of the Wizarding World as his twin brothers.

“Oh hello Harry,” Ginny said smiling, making the Gryffindors close to her turn to look at the boy, “what are you doing here?”

“Wed!” Harry said happily and touched the Gryffindor-table’s red tablecloth, leaving a squeal of satisfaction when his hands touched the soft velvet material.

“Is that so?” Ginny asked sounding interested “Have you learnt the rest of the colours?”

Harry’s little head nodded in agreement and pointing at Ginny’s head he shouted loud.

“Blue!”

Ginny blinked in surprise. “Blue? My hair is not blue!”

“No Harry dear,” she said sweetly “It is orange, not blue.”

“Blue!” baby Harry insisted stubbornly, still pointing at Ginny’s head. “No owaing. Blue!”

Ginny, who was still feeling confused, was about to insist on her hair-colour, but she was stopped. Ron, who was barely controlling his chuckles, put his hand over her head. Immediately Ginny felt something being pulled out of her hair.

“You are right Harry,” Ron said smiling, “it is blue.” Finishing his sentence he put something inside baby Harry’s hand. Ginny giggled when she saw her small blue star-shaped hair-pin.

When Snape saw Mr. and Miss. Weasley engaging themselves with the Boy and came to the decision that he could enjoy his meal. Having finished his meal, he marched across the half-filled room and stopped near baby Harry. The boy looked at him and frowned. Then, when the raven-haired man tried to catch his miniature hand, Harry jerked his hand away violently and shouted.

“No!”

Everyone turned around as the boy uttered this word. Some students gasped. No one had ever dared to say ‘No’ to Severus Snape. Snape on the other hand felt his patience packing her suitcases and waving goodbye to him.

“Here I am, dressed in the most hideous set or robes, with everybody looking at me since morning and hearing “No” for the zillionth time this week. I am certainly not going to. . . Ah I hate my life!” he thought in despair.

He made another attempt to grasp the boy’s hand, in which he was successful. Yet no one had prepared him of what was going to happen next. Baby Harry jerked himself free and running away from him; he fell to the floor and started screaming as if he was in mortal danger. Snape stood still watching the boy hitting his tiny fists and legs in the loudest tantrum Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever heard.

“Great! Just, Great!” Snape thought in embarrassment and covered his eyes with right palm, before he would sit down in the nearest chair.

“Professor,” Hermione asked in shaky voice, afraid that her professor would explode from anger “what’s wrong with Harry?”

Severuse Snape did not spoke. Ron, Ginny and Hermione looked at him as baby Harry’s shrieks echoed in the silent Great Hall. Finally, Snape spoke softly.

“It is nothing Miss. Granger. He will shout, he will kick and then he will fall silent.”

-)-)-)

“Is that so?” the woman from the painting said, as she placed her hand in front her mouth, trying to cover her chuckles.

“Mother this is serious,” Snape said sternly, “I had to endure all this screaming and kicking. Not to mention that I promised him to let him visit those Gryffindors on Friday, before they leave the castle. By Merlin this boy is such a disaster.”

“Well he is not worse than you, at his age!”

“There is no way I was like that mother!” Snape said defiantly.

“Oh but you were. You could be heard from miles away when you had a tantrum.”

“If they have to endure this situation, why do people choose to have children?”

“Oh I don’t know Severus dear. I guess that it’s the only way for humanity to continue.” Mrs. Snape joked.

“So what did you do with me? Don’t tell you had to wait for me to grow up enough to explain that what I did was not good.”

“Actually Severus, there is a way to stop him. If you are willing to do it, at least.”