- Regrezzarandum!

Following the curse, and in a cloud of purple and pink sparks, the boy-who-lived disappeared from view.

‘Harry!’ screamed Hermione.

Even Draco, who had been the one to cast the spell, looked shocked. All that was left of Harry Potter was a pile of Gryfinndor robes, a broomstick and wand lying abandoned by their side on the pitch.

‘What have you done with him Malfoy?’ snarled Ron, advancing on Draco, wand raised. Some of the older Slytherin players stepped between the two boys.

‘G-Get away from me Weasley,’ spat Draco with as much vehemence he could muster under the circumstances.

‘You better tell us where he is,’ said Fred.

‘Yeah,’ said George, ‘and fast. Get out of my way Montague,’ he said, shrugging aside the Slytherin captain, ‘while I curse this little ferret till he’s begging to tell us what he did to Harry.’

‘George, you’re not helping,’ said Hermione, her voice shaking slightly. She was looking down at the place where Harry had been, trying to understand what had happened. She had never heard the curse Draco had used before.

The argument had broken out originally over the use of the Quidditch pitch. The Gryfinndors had had the pitch booked for a week but, as usual, Snape had overridden them to give his own players more practice. Things had escalated when the Slytherins had burst into yet another round of ‘Weasley Is Our King’ and Harry and Draco had squared up to one another. Draco had been first to draw his wand and had cast the curse almost immediately with what even Hermione had to admit had been perfect intonation.

‘What is going on here?’

There was a collective intake of breath as the group of Slytherins and Gryfinndors parted to reveal Severus Snape, his black cloak billowing out behind him as usual and his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

‘Gryfinndors I suggest that you return to your tower immediately. I have given the Slytherins permission to practice this afternoon.’

‘Please Professor,’ Hermione began, ‘you don’t understand. Draco …’

‘Silence Miss Granger. I don’t recall asking for your advice on the matter. In fact you have no business being on the pitch in the first place - unless of course,’ he added with a sneer, ‘you are replacing Weasley as Gryfinndor keeper – which after his dismal performance the other day would not surprise me.’

The Slytherins couldn’t help but dissolve into hysterics at the vision of Hermione playing quidditch. Ron felt his ears grow red. He balled his fists at his sides wishing that he had the nerve to wipe the smirk of Snape’s face with a curse of his own.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but just at that moment a loud wail interrupted her. It seemed to be coming from the bundle of robes on the grass and the students drew back quickly, nervous about exactly what they might conceal.

‘What was that?’ Snape snapped. His eyes searched the group of Gryfinndor students, ‘and where is Potter?’

‘That was what I was trying to explain, Sir,’ Hermione said quickly before Snape could interrupt her again. ‘Draco cursed Harry. He must have transfigured him.’

The wail from the robes got several decibels louder. Snape looked angrily at Draco.

‘Did you curse Mr Potter?’ he said.

‘Yes Sir,’ Draco admitted, refusing to meet the Professors glare. It was not often that he got such a harsh look from his housemaster but when he did Draco knew it was best not to anger him further.

‘What was the curse?’

‘I don’t know, Sir,’ Draco admitted. ‘It was something I saw once …’ He didn’t admit that he had actually seen it written down in his father’s spell book over summer. He knew that his father knew a lot of dark spells and when he had found the door to his office open he had copied a few down to impress the Slytherins with. He hadn’t known what they would do and thought he would test them out on his owl; but when Potter had made a snide remark about his family he hadn’t been able to resist the attempt to test one on him.

‘It sounds to me like it turned Harry into a banshee,’ Fred said covering his ears.

‘Don’t joke Fred,’ said Hermione, ‘it’s not funny.’ She rounded on Draco. ‘How dare you cast a spell that you didn’t know? What sort of person would do that …?!’

‘Remember yourself Miss Granger!’ Snape said icily, quelling her tirade instantly. He stooped down to the bundle of robes that was Potter. ‘Step back please whilst I inspect the damage Malfoy has inflicted on Potter.’ Hermione glowered. She could plainly see the potions master smirk as he bent over the robes – it was obvious that he was enjoying the fact that one of his house had transfigured Harry into who-knows-what. She hoped, rather uncharacteristically, that whatever form Harry had taken would be able to inflict some damage on Snape before he had chance to change him back.

Snape poised his wand to tackle what is was that may be under Potter’s cloaks. He had a fair idea where Draco would have picked up the curse and he knew that there could be something extremely unpleasant lurking in place of the boy.

The students recoiled as Snape lifted the robes with the end of his wand and flicked them away. No matter how hard the students braced themselves, however, no-one was prepared for the sight which greeted them. There in the place of the famous Harry Potter was a very small, very pink, screaming baby, complete with a mop of black hair, emerald eyes and a lightening scar on his forehead.