Child's Play by libertineangel
Past Featured StorySummary: When Draco accidently uses a black curse on Harry and turns him into a baby, Dumbledore appoints Snape as his carer. Follow Harry's slow, strange journey back to fifteen - accompanied by Snape ...
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Lucius, McGonagall, Arthur, Molly, Remus, Ron, Sirius, Tonks, Voldemort
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Drama, General, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Baby fic, Child fic, Deaging
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Alcohol Use
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 29 Completed: No Word count: 98036 Read: 169328 Published: 08 Aug 2006 Updated: 02 Sep 2008
Big Trouble by libertineangel

By the time they had reached Snape’s chambers, Lucius was calm and unrepentant. Snape filled a glass with brandy and gave it to the elder man, knowing that he would not accept any other refreshments. It was now night and the chambers were cold so Snape had led them through to the inner cloister that held his fireplace, which he lit with a click of his fingers.

Lucius reclined in the easy-chair and sipped his brandy. Draco was hovering near the door, as though waiting for the moment that he could turn and bolt. Snape could see that he was holding himself slightly awkwardly, but he was aware that he had prevented much of Lucius’s anger from venting itself.

‘Your chambers are scarcely preferable to that muggle abode you call home, are they?’ Lucius said looking around the perfectly acceptable, cosy rooms, and comparing them unfavourably to his own luxurious mansion. ‘Still,’ he went on with a sneer, ‘I suppose Dumbledore would not dream of allowing his followers to live in extravagance when there are muggles to be saved.’

Snape decided to let that remark pass. He was used to Lucius goading him about his wealth – or lack of it. He remembered when he had first come to Hogwarts, long before he had learned that there were other means of ‘greatness’. He had been humiliated by the merciless teasing initiated by the elder boy for his dowdy robes and tatty, second hand books. It had gone on for the entire year and then followed him through Hogwarts. Of course that had all changed when a chance encounter had led to the Dark Lord singling him out for ‘brilliance’, and Lucius had been forced to befriend him; but Lucius, in his subtle ways, never let him forget the wretched boy he had once been.

What Snape really wanted to do was question Lucius further about the Pickle children who, though he had never met them, nevertheless seemed to have gotten under his skin. He had been warned by several members of the Order against such an undertaking, and as good as forbidden by Dumbledore, but, though it would be risky, he knew that Lucius would still be terrified enough of Snape revealing what he knew about the lost death-eater mask that he would think twice of relaying Snape’s interest to the Dark Lord. Of course, it would need delicate handling, and there would be a fair amount of bluff and double-bluff involved – the most desirable situation being one in which Lucius would think that Snape was in on the plan – but Snape had a lot of experience in that particular area and thought he was more than capable of pulling it off.

The problem, then, was Draco. Though he might brag that he knew everything that his father was involved in, and act like he knew everything about Voldemort’s return, Snape knew it was just a ruse to impress. None of the death eaters would dare speak to anyone outside the circle about what went on within it. If they did, and if they were discovered, it would be on pain of torture and then, immediately, pain of death. Of course Voldemort occasionally relaxed that rule in favour of Snape’s dealings with the Order – but he still thought he had complete control over what his double-agent knew and talked about, and he scarcely imagined that there were things Snape kept from his ears.

‘Draco, perhaps it is time you went back to your dormitory,’ Snape suggested, jerking his head in the direction of the door.

Gratefully, Draco turned to leave, stopped only by the cold, heavy silver of his father’s serpent-headed cane on his shoulder.

‘I do not recall telling you, you had permission to leave,’ Lucius drawled, pulling his son back towards him.

‘Sorry father,’ Draco said, his voice almost a whisper.

‘Fine boy I’ve raised, here,’ Lucius said loudly to the silent chambers. ‘Not only a backward student, but a coward as well. Tell me, Draco, why was I not informed of your impending ban’ – he looked at Snape. ‘-well when exactly was this ban given?’

‘Two weeks-’

‘-very well, two weeks ago?’

‘I-I don’t know father. I thought …’

‘You thought you would be able to hide it, or yourself perhaps, from me?’ Lucius said, his lip curling in disgust.

‘Y-yes father.’

‘Pathetic. You are a disgrace , Draco. Now get out of my sight.’

As Draco turned to leave, glad that his ordeal was over, Lucius seemed to have a fresh wave of anger. He yanked the boy back to him by his arm so that their pale eyes were level. ‘This isn’t over,’ he said with quiet venom, before releasing him.

At that moment, however, something happened to stop all three of them in their tracks. A wind blew through the grate, extinguishing the flames, and Snape’s heart skipped a beat as he realised that it meant an apparation was imminent.

Three pairs of eyes turned towards the fireplace, and three mouths fell open as a sooty, grinning toddler fell into the grate in a flash of green light.


As soon as Harry appeared he knew that there was something seriously wrong. He had half expected that Snape would be cross before he realised how clever Harry was – he was always getting cross about silly things - but now he thought he could see something close to fear on his face; he looked scared, like when Harry had a nightmare and he had to cry and bury his face in a pillow. His face fell and he held his arms out.

 

‘Nape …’ he said, his voice wobbling slightly.

Snape’s mask of indifference reappeared almost as soon as it had left him. He glanced at Lucius to see if he had noticed the brief panic in his eyes at seeing Harry in such a dangerous situation, but Lucius was too busy trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Snape was reluctantly impressed to see that the toddler Harry had managed to pull his hat so far over his head that his scar was hidden and that he wasn’t immediately identifiable.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Lucius said, getting to his feet. Snape was satisfied to note that for the first time, Lucius appeared flustered. His pale-blue eyes darted from Harry to Draco and his voice had a slight waver.

Harry looked up at the pale-blondy-shouty man, and, all of a sudden, he felt a pain sear through his forehead. He stumbled back slightly and then tilted his head to look straight up into the cold, bottomless eyes. Suddenly his head felt like it was spinning around on his neck. Memories stumbled into his mind like he was watching action through omnoculars, rewinding and fast-forwarding the parts that were the most significant. He saw the man in front of him speaking to a boy with the same scar as him in a book-shop. He saw him speaking to a skinny, wrinkly man across a counter of a shop filled with horrible things. Most significant of all, however, he saw him in the graveyard bowing to the man who killed his parents. In fact, thought Harry, it was Lucius, Malfoy’s father and minion of Voldemort.

Suddenly, Harry knew that the boy in the pictures in his head was him. He knew exactly who he was, knew exactly why he was a toddler, and knew that if Lucius was to find out that the toddler in front of him was Harry Potter, then he was going to be in a lot of trouble. He looked at Snape and a silent moment of understanding passed between them. Harry didn’t have time to think about how Snape had been his carer for the last few weeks – putting him down for naps, changing his nappy, potty training him and making him sit on the ‘naughty’ stool – he had to keep his head and help get them all out of trouble.

‘Who is this?’ Lucius said, his voice filled with venom.

Harry looked straight up at him. He was fighting his toddler urge to cry very hard. He realised that though he had his memory back his development was still that of a two year-old. He felt his bottom lip push out at Lucius’s hard tone, but shook his head to shrug it off. He tried hard to form words in his mouth, screwing up his face in concentration.

‘Me Alby,’ he said, stabbing at one similar to Balbus, which the toddler in him had already learned.

As soon as he said it, Snape looked upon to him with disgust.

‘How dare you leave Professor Trelawney’s quarters without permission again, Albert Trelawney,’ he snapped. Harry dutifully pouted and stuck his tongue out. He found that the latter act was quite instinctive to Snape telling him off.

Lucius was regarding the pair furiously. He kept glancing at Draco, who was even paler than before and biting his lip to the point where he could taste blood.

‘This is Albert Trelwaney,’ Snape said with a dismissive wave in the direction of the small boy. ‘We have had some trouble with him wandering where he is not supposed to.’ This time there was an edge to Snape’s voice, and Harry had the vague feeling that he was going to be in trouble when or if they managed to talk themselves out of this.

Lucius, however, didn’t seem convinced. Snape wasn’t surprised; if he was working on a spell for the Dark Lord that transfigured victims into babies, then to see one at Hogwarts was at best suspicious. He wasn’t, however, prepared for his next move. With powers of deduction that Snape found incredible, a furious Lucius grabbed hold of his son, spun him in front of him and the entered his mind violently.

Draco found that he was surprisingly calm as his father performed a powerful legilimens against him. He felt a pain almost split his head in two, burning his eyes and blinding him with its ferociousness. The walls in his mind which he had been practicing constructing for the past two weeks flew up as though they had been there all along. Lucius had been entering Draco’s thoughts since he was old enough to misbehave, and though he hid it from his father, Draco had found that he had had an almost instinctive resilience to it. He used it to full advantage now –revealing nothing about the curse he had stolen from his father’s office, and nothing of the baby in front of them.

Lucius felt his anger abate slightly as his worst fears were not confirmed by the journey through his son’s pathetic memories. He decided that he had seen enough and, as a lasting reminder of his power, left his son’s mind as violently as he entered it. To Lucius’s mild surprise, however, it seemed almost as though his son was equally fighting him out. He felt a pain between his eyes as the activities of the morning shot before them. He tried to stop it, but wasn’t able to before Draco got a glimpse.

As father and son pulled apart they watched each other carefully for a few moments. Draco was looking at his father with fear, but also with revulsion - the memory he had glimpsed of what his father had been up to that morning disturbing him greatly. Lucius stared back with challenge. He smiled triumphantly as Draco made no comment about what he may or may not have seen.

‘When you’ve quite finished attacking my students,’ Snape broke in with a sneer. Lucius whirled round to face him.

‘He is my student, not yours, Snape,’ he spat. ‘You would do well to remember that.’

The exertion of the attack on his mind had drained Draco and he fell to his knees exhausted and in pain. Harry watched him with an uncomfortable degree of respect. It was obvious that Lucius had tried to break into his mind, but that Draco had somehow resisted.

Lucius stooped down to Harry’s level and, as Harry flinched, reached down and wrenched the bobble-hat off his head, as though for further confirmation. Luckily Harry hadn’t tied the strings under his chin, otherwise he would have been half-strangled. Lucius knelt, taking in the unmarred forehead and auburn hair of the boy in front of him and he felt the last trace of dread leave his blood.

‘Ugly looking thing, isn’t he?’ he said, the drawl back in his voice.

Harry stared in shock at his reflection in Lucius’s pupils. He realised that Snape must have cast some kind of silent charm on him as soon as he entered the chambers to hide his true identity. Now that he knew they were more or less out of trouble, he felt his toddler self become angry at the man’s insult and stuck his tongue out.

‘If the wind changes you’ll stay like that,’ Lucius said in a bored voice. ‘It looks like the Trelawney brat needs taking in hand,’ he added, getting to his feet. ‘If that is indeed who he is.’

Apparently thinking he once again had the upper hand, Lucius picked his brandy glass back up and began to drink. He turned to Draco, who was panting on the floor.

‘Get out,’ he said simply.

When Draco had gone and the two men were alone with Harry, Lucius’s eyes again darkened. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what this means, Severus,’ he said. Then, draining the rest of the brandy in one, he stormed from the chambers.

As soon as Lucius had gone Snape turned on Harry. Now that disaster had been averted he found that he was furious that the toddler had managed to get them into such a dangerous situation. He was also equally furious that Potter had prevented him from speaking with Lucius about the Pickles as such a situation would not present itself again in a hurry.

‘Well, Potter,’ he barked, ‘you certainly know how to make an entrance, don’t you?’

Snape was aware from Potter’s quick thinking that his memory had been restored by the chance encounter with Lucius. He knew, however, that at Potter’s current age the memories would not stay there forever – his brain would be too underdeveloped to such a large amount of information. He might keep some of the memories, and would perhaps grow in the night, as had been the pattern over the last two weeks, but that would be all. He wanted to get his say in before they disappeared.

Harry looked up at Snape. His fifteen-year-old self wanted to make some clever retort back, but the toddler in him felt sheepish. Snape had told him to stay away from the Floo powder and he had ignored him. Not only that but, as Harry now understood the situation, he had put Snape in great danger by appearing in front of Lucius. Snape had shielded him from the death eater and if Voldemort found out then he would be in a lot of trouble. Harry felt grudgingly grateful somewhere inside, but he was also suspicious – why would Snape help him anyway? There had to be more to it. A little voice from somewhere in his brain told him that that was stupid – that Snape had been taking very good care of him as a baby, but, obstinately, he refused to listen.

In any case, Harry didn’t trust himself to answer the Professor, and instead simply stood as tall as he could, regarding him defiantly. He knew that his toddler self didn’t have a very good command of language and he didn’t speak, not wanting to sound stupid. He tried not to think about the bogey green pyjamas that he was dressed in and the need he had to go and get his little red potty. He also fought every childish urge that he was feeling to run and hide until Snape wasn’t mad at him anymore.

‘Cat got your tongue, has it Potter?’ Snape said. He found himself not only angry, but frustrated. When he had seen Harry appear in the grate he had felt an uncomfortable pull inside his chest, and it was perhaps this that made him more aggressive in his approach. He stooped down on one knee and looked the toddler in the eye. ‘Just you try and remember this at least, Potter,’ he said carefully. ‘Remember that sometimes there are people who know better than you.’

As soon as the words had left his lips, however, Snape noted a look of utter bewilderment pass across the toddlers face. The emerald eyes clouded over and suddenly Harry looked coy again, as though he was a little boy in trouble – which now he was, most of the memories that had returned slipping away just as Snape had predicted.

Harry was left with one; Lucius, Draco’s father. He knew instinctively that he was a baddy; friend of the mean skinny wizard man who’d killed his parents. He also had the vague notion that he had nearly got the batman into a whole lot of trouble by being naughty and using the Foo powder. He looked up into Snape’s stern face and his bottom lip began to tremble.

Snape changed tack, realising that now it was a naughty little toddler he had to deal with and not the teenage Potter.

‘What did I tell you about the Floo powder?’ he said, still crouched in front of him.

Harry looked down at the floor. He could tell that Snape was very, very angry with him. He wondered whether it would be a good idea to try and cover his tracks. He had the cunning thought that if he didn’t do it on purpose then Snape couldn’t be mad, and paused for a minute, wrinkling his brow before answering.

‘Didn’t do it,’ he said at last, shrugging his little shoulders, ‘fell!’

‘Don’t lie to me, Potter,’ Snape said ‘– you knew exactly what you were doing. Now tell me the truth – did you use the Floo powder?’

Harry thought for a few seconds; he knew it was naughty to lie but he couldn’t stop himself. He smiled as innocently as he could up at Snape, ‘No Nape,’ he said sweetly, ‘aks-see-dent.’

Snape felt himself snap at this remark. Everything about the day seemed to converge on top of him. What made him most angry was Potter’s instinctive knack of nearly getting himself (not to mention Snape and Draco) killed. He reached out and grabbed Potter’s arm and then reached round and smacked his backside, hard. This was not the occasion for the naughty stool – what the boy needed was a short sharp shock to deter him from putting himself in danger ever again.

‘That is for lying to me and for disobeying my instructions,’ he said.

Harry’s lip immediately pushed itself forward as Snape released his arm, and his hands travelled to clutch his bottom. Snape hadn’t hit him hard enough to really hurt him, but he felt very upset that his clever plan to cover his tracks hadn’t worked, and he didn’t like being smacked like he was a naughty boy. He marched away from Snape and threw himself on the floor and began to cry and yell and carry on. He flung himself about, trying to make Snape feel very bad about smacking him, wiping snot and tears on his little green pyjamas for added effect.

‘You brought it on yourself, Potter,’ Snape said dismissively as Harry screeched so loudly that his face turned red.

It was to this chaotic scene that Dumbledore arrived.

‘Harry!’ he said, his eyes twinkling as he looked upon the small boy, ‘Sirius hoped that you’d been Floo’d safely back to Hogwarts.’ He turned more gravely to Snape. ‘Did he meet with …’

‘Lucius?’ Snape finished. ‘Yes. Fortunately Draco and I were able to avert a disaster. Of course Draco suffered before his father was convinced. I will send him to the hospital wing to recover.’

Dumbledore nodded, ‘I see.’

‘I will make my full report after I have put Potter, here, to bed. I will also have some questions about why Black left a toddler in his care unsupervised.

Dumbledore appeared to ignore Snape’s last remark and turned his attention to Harry. ‘What’s all this noise about, young man?’ he said in a friendly but firm tone; one that would not stand to be ignored.

Harry dropped the volume slightly and sat up. His face was now a beetroot colour and his breath came in sharp gasps. ‘Nape mean,’ he said between sobs.

As Snape pursed his lips, Dumbledore bent down and scooped the young boy without ceremony into his arms. ‘Stop crying Harry,’ he said. He waited silently for a few moments until Harry’s tears had subsided slightly then took out an enormous silver handkerchief with his initials embroidered onto it. He held it to Harry’s nose.

‘Blow,’ he said.

Harry, feeling slightly calmer, blew into the handkerchief. He grasped it in his fist and helped Dumbledore wipe the tears from his little cheeks.

‘Now tell me what happened,’ Dumbledore said firmly.

Harry looked into the twinkley grey-blue eyes and somehow knew that he had to tell the truth. ‘Me fib,’ he said sadly, ‘me bad.’

Dumbledore’s lip twitched slightly at the forlorn expression on the young Harry’s face. ‘No Harry,’ he said, ‘you’re not bad, but what you did was bad. Do you understand the difference?’

Harry thought for a moment then nodded his head vigorously; that made sense.

‘Running away from Sirius and using the Floo network without an adult was a very irresponsible thing to do,’ Dumbledore went on, ‘it was also very dangerous. And you should always tell the truth.’

‘Nape smack me,’ Harry said, slightly sulkily, pointing at his bottom. He felt he at least deserved a bit of sympathy for that.

Dumbledore turned to look at Severus and nodded slightly. He didn’t make any comment to Harry except to say, ‘Well I hope you learnt your lesson then Harry. Professor Snape cares about you and that’s why he is cross when you do something dangerous.’

Snape snorted at this last remark as Harry nodded grumpily. The toddler then let out a big yawn. It had been a very tiring day, what with See-rus and Floo adventures and that horrible slimy blonde man.

‘Time for bed,’ Dumbledore said, hoisting Harry up over his shoulder, onto which the toddler promptly laid down his head. ‘Shall I take him Severus?’

Harry snapped his head back up. ‘Nape,’ he said, holding his arms out to his guardian over Dumbledore’s shoulder. He might be a bit mad with the batman but that certainly didn’t mean that he didn’t want him to put him to bed – how else was he going to get a night-night cuddle?

‘Very well,’ Dumbledore said as Snape frowned, but took the toddler from him, ‘I will expect you in my office in an hour, Severus.’

Harry was so busy cuddling his body into Snape’s robes that he didn’t even hear Balbus call good-bye.

‘Come on then Potter,’ Snape said, ‘nappy, then bed.’

‘Story?’ Harry said sleepily.

‘I think you’ve had enough adventure of your own today,’ Snape said shortly.

‘Potty,’ Harry said, suddenly remembering why this whole adventure had begun in the first place. He was surprised, in fact, at how long he’d been able to hold on.

Snape rolled his eyes before he went to fetch the potty. When the boy was finished he placed him on the changing table and put a nappy on him to little protest. Harry seemed to sense that he wouldn’t take any more nonsense today, and that they’d both had a very narrow escape.

As he laid Harry in his cot, however, Snape relented slightly about the story. He felt almost guilty for smacking the boy; after all it had been Sirius’s responsibility to stop him getting into mischief. Five minutes into An Adventure in the Magical Forest and Harry was fast asleep.


The next morning, after the activities of the day before, a sulky Harry was getting reacquainted with his playpen.

 

‘No pen,’ he said grumpily, thumping his fist on the floor as he sat cross-legged glaring up at Snape.

‘Yes you will stay in your pen,’ Snape said, his nose in the air. ‘I want you where you can’t run off until you prove to me that you can be trusted.’ He pointed his wand at the toy chest and levitated a few of Harry’s favourites into the pen with him. ‘Play with those quietly,’ he said.

‘Don’t want to,’ Harry spat, sticking his tongue out.

‘Put that away,’ Snape said, before turning back to making their breakfast.

‘Don’t want to!’ Harry insisted, talking with a mouthful of tongue. Snape ignored him.

At first Harry simply folded his arms, turning his back on Snape and ignored the toys in protest. He hated being confined to the stupid wooden prison. He liked wandering around Snape’s chambers best – every time was like a new adventure because Snape had lots of fun things to look at and prod. Eventually, however, he got bored. It wasn’t having any effect anyway because Snape wasn’t taking any notice of him so, sighing, he picked up the little Quidditch players and started babbling to them about how mean Snape was. He wished desperately that he had the magnificent broom that See-rus had found for him and then he could have flown out – he had been a natural flyer – but he had a feeling that the batman wouldn’t let him have that back for a very long time.

After breakfast, and after Harry had had an unsuccessful sit on his potty which aggravated his tetchy mood, Dumbledore came to see Snape in his chambers.

‘Balbus!’ Harry yelled, running to the edge of his playpen and holding out his arms to be picked up. He was very excited to see someone else and decided to try and persuade the old smiley man to help him escape.

‘Hi Harry,’ Dumbledore said brightly. He stooped to pick Harry up (much to Harry’s delight) and give him a cuddle, but then, to Harry’s disappointment, set him back down in his playpen.

‘Don't want to!’ Harry said, his fists grabbing handfuls of the purple and silver cloak to prevent Dumbledore from putting him down.

‘Come on Harry,’ Dumbledore said gently, prying the small, vice-like fingers from his cloak, ‘play nicely in your pen while I speak to Severus.’

‘Don’t want to!’ Harry said pouting, repeating his new mantra.

‘We all have to do things we don’t want to Harry,’ Dumbledore said evenly, standing up, ‘isn’t that right Severus?’

Harry, however, wasn’t listening. Once again he turned his back sulkily on the two men.

‘I have been to see Draco,’ Dumbledore said, watching the potions Professor - who had so far remained silent - carefully. ‘He is much better. He has expressed a wish to speak to you as soon as you can spare the time. Since there is no school today, and since the hospital wing is empty except for its one patient, I thought that you might like to visit him this afternoon. Perhaps you could take Harry,’ he added, glancing at Harry, who was lying on his stomach with his head in his hands as though suffering a fate worse than death, ‘– he appears most eager for a change of scenery.’

Snape pursed his lips. Privately he thought it would do the toddler good to learn that everyday was not going to be filled with the ‘adventure’ that, as a Gryffindor, he seemed so fond of. However, he saw determination in Dumbledore’s eyes and so nodded stiffly. ‘Very well, headmaster,’ he said.

Dumbledore smiled. From the visit he had had with the young Malfoy, he had a feeling that Snape may be going to hear something to his advantage. The boy had been restless and anxious, and there was something about his countenance that had suggested to Dumbledore that he had had more significant things on his mind than the altercation with his father. Dumbledore had his own idea as to what that might be, but he had decided not to press him - and instead allow him to confess it in his own time.

‘Out?’ a small voice said. Harry had caught the last part of the two elder men’s conversation.

‘That’s right, Harry,’ Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling at the eagerness in Harry’s voice.

‘Me go,’ Harry said brightly.

‘If you behave, Potter,’ Snape snapped. Harry’s face fell and his eyes took on a look of defiance, but he decided that it sounded better than nothing and so went back to his Quidditch figures.

‘How is Harry?’ Dumbledore said quietly when Harry was fully distracted. ‘Has he shown any further signs of regaining his memory?’

Snape thought back to the screaming in the middle of the night. Harry had obviously had a nightmare, and Snape had eventually had to go and try and settle him. The toddler had gripped tightly to his neck, crying and carrying on about the ‘masky men’. Snape thought that he must have been referring to Lucius and the scene he had witnessed after the Triwizard Tournament.

‘I think that he retains vague recollections, but he does not recognise his own role in those memories. As far as he is concerned he is a two-year old child – And his development,’ he added, with a disdainful glance at Harry, who was babbling nonsensically to no-one in particular, ‘confirms it. He has, however, once again aged – but this time by only one month.’

Snape had found this out after a quick visit to Madame Pomfrey to check Harry over after the incident with the Floo powder. He had been most disappointed to find that Harry had only progressed to 31 months, and, apparently, was still no further on with the potty training.

‘I see,’ Dumbledore said thoughtfully, ‘but there is a pattern emerging as to how the memories may be unlocked.’

‘Yes,’ Snape agreed. ‘The design of the spell is such that it gives the perpetrator a degree of control over how the victim may be re-aged. It appears that Lucius, or whoever owns the spell, have designed a very specific type of anti-dote – one which is intricately linked to memory and incident. The episodes which appear to have caused Potter to age, for instance, are always the result of chance encounters with persons who have played a significant role in the history of his life. It is extremely similar to the technique used to combat black curses with memories of the victims, except that it seems to have been planned in this way by the deliverer of the curse.’

‘Then at the moment it is guess work as to how we might break the code of the spell?’

‘Yes. The “cure” seems to have been designed almost as meticulously as the spell itself.’

‘Curious,’ Dumbledore said, stroking his beard absentmindedly. ‘Curious that one would bother with such an intricate curing process where it would have been quite possible to make the spell irreversible.’

Snape didn’t reply, but the two men stood deep in thought for a few moments. Snape was beginning to realise that ‘curing’ Potter would involve more than simple spell-breaking. It would also mean understanding why and for whom the spell was tailored.

He had thought vaguely that he could simply try exposing Harry to various figures from his past (or future), and hope that this accelerated the re-aging process – but this was by no means guaranteed as the answer. Harry had come into contact with others - Hagrid and Mrs Weasley, to name two – who had not affected him at all. The simple truth of the matter was that it was like searching for a snitch in a snowstorm. It seemed that unless he found a way to question Lucius about the spell (thus putting Harry, Draco and himself at great risk) the boy-who-lived was going to be the toddler-who-lived-to-annoy for the foreseeable future.

Dumbledore seemed to guess what he was thinking. He put a hand on his arm. ‘You can only do for Harry what you can, Severus. I have great confidence that that will, in the end, be enough.’

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but he was beaten by Harry.

‘Potty!’ Harry screeched, crumpling up his face. He had been too busy playing to take much notice of the pressing feeling in his lower stomach, and now the situation had gotten desperate. He scrambled to his feet and trundled over to the side of the play-pen. ‘Potty!’ he shouted again.

‘I can hear you, Potter,’ Snape said scowling. Dumbledore smiled, however, as the frowning man picked Harry up as quickly as possible and hurried to help him get his trousers down and get onto his Potty. Almost immediately Harry relieved himself, a big grin on his face.

‘Me big boy,’ he said as the lion painted on the front roared his approval.

‘Very good Harry,’ Dumbledore said. He reached deep into his pockets and pulled out a small paper bag of muggle sweets filled with pear-dops, jelly-tots and toffee bon-bons. He gave them to Snape, who accepted them reluctantly with an expression of disapproval.

‘Some sweets for you for later, for being a big-boy,’ Dumbledore said.

‘Sweeties!’ Harry said, clapping his hands together.

‘You can only have them after your dinner, though,’ Dumbledore said firmly.

‘After dinner,’ Harry repeated solemnly. He got up and pulled his red trousers up over his belly button.

‘Good boy. Right well I must be getting back. Have a good afternoon both of you, wont you? And don’t concern yourself too much, Severus. These things have a habit of working themselves out.’

‘Hmmm,’ Snape said dubiously.

As Dumbledore left, and Harry started hopping around like a chicken at his feet for attention, tucking his arms into his waist and clucking inanely, Snape began to wonder to himself if the next few years of his life were destined to be spent dealing with an errant toddler Potter.


Before Snape took Harry to visit Draco he decided that he would put him down for a nap. The small boy had been grizzly all morning – probably because of waking through the night - and Snape didn’t think he could take much more of hearing Don’t want to or No to everything. He was hoping that putting him down for little while might make him wake up in a better mood.

 

Harry usually had a nap later in the afternoon, just before his evening meal, and he wasn’t too pleased about going down for one so early in the day. Even though his cheeks were flushed with tiredness and his eyelids were droopy he was fighting to stay awake. He whined as Snape tried to place him in his cot, kicking his legs and grabbing a handful of hair.

‘Don’t want to!’

‘You are tired and you need a nap,’ Snape insisted, grabbing his hair back from the small boy and closing his fist.

‘No,’ Harry said, feeling the tears come to his eyes. He felt like everything was mean today. Snape was trying to make him sleep when he was in the middle of a fun game with Cheep-Cheep – playing hide the Quidditch players up the jumper. Not only that but since Balbus had told him he was going ‘out’ he had been waiting for it to happen and it hadn’t. He thought that maybe they had just been tricking him to get him to do as he was told. Then there was the fact that he had had to eat stupid peas for lunch, and that Snape had told him off for firing them out of his mouth and all around the kitchen. All in all nothing was going his way.

In frustration, Harry flung Cheep-Cheep away from him and onto the floor.

‘Bad Cheep-Cheep!’ he shouted, ‘Bad Nape!’

‘You won’t be getting that back until later now, Potter,’ Snape said, picking the squawking bird up and putting it on the kitchen counter. ‘I have told you twice already today that you do not throw.’

This infuriated Harry even more. When he had been with Hermione the other day he had kept throwing Cheep-Cheep out of his cot and she had kept picking it up for him. It had turned into a fun game and Hermione had laughed at him and forgotten all about making him have a nasty nap, at least for a little while. He had been hoping to get Snape to do the same. Instead he found himself in his cot without his beloved bird. This was too overwhelming for him and he burst into real tears.

‘Cheep-Cheep!’ he wailed pathetically, standing up in his cot and holding his hands up.

‘Go to sleep, Potter,’ Snape said. ‘You can have the bird back when you wake up.’

‘Waaahhhhhhh.’

Harry wailed and wailed. He was feeling hot, upset, angry, tired and awake all at the same time. He jumped up and down in his cot, shaking his arms and pulling at his clothes in a fit of temper.

‘No nap! Cheep-Cheep,’ he screamed.

Snape tried to ignore the tantrum for a few minutes, hoping that Harry would eventually tire himself out and give in to sleep. He knew that the toddler wasn’t really upset, just in a crotchety frame of mind from a lack of sleep. However, after ten minutes he could see that Harry was working himself up into a state.

Snape had begun to notice recently that Harry’s cries went right through him. In fact, sometimes he couldn’t stand them – and had the feeling that it wasn’t just because they were annoyingly loud. This was true now. Reluctantly he reached into Harry’s cot and hoisted him up. He sat him, still-wailing, on the counter-top.

‘Come on Potter,’ he said firmly, as Harry tried to get to his feet and push Snape away, ‘You are giving me a headache and probably making yourself ill as well.’

Harry was feeling slightly better now he had gotten escape from his cot and he dropped his screaming a few decibels.

‘No tired!’ he squealed.

‘You are tired,’ Snape said. He re-adjusted Harry so that he was at eye-level with him. ‘Now you’re going to have a nap and then, when you wake up, we can go and see Draco. But,’ he added sternly, ‘if you don’t have a nap then you can’t go. I am not taking a tired, disobedient baby.’

Harry pouted at his least favourite word – baby. He was still sobbing but the screaming had stopped.

‘No cot,’ he said suddenly, through his tears.

Snape sighed. He wondered if it was really being in the cot that Harry had the problem with. He knew how much the boy hated his play-pen and really it was the same principle. He had kept him in his cot because of his tendency to wander; he didn’t want him wandering (much like the teenage Harry) at night. Perhaps, though, he could make a concession for nap-time.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘stop crying, Potter, and listen carefully.’

This took a few minutes, but Snape was patient and waited until Harry had clamed down slightly before he spoke.

‘You can have your nap on the settee in my study,’ he said.

‘No cot?’ Harry said, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

‘No, not this afternoon.’ Taking his chance whilst Harry was interested, he lifted him up and carried him into the study, sitting him down on the green velvet-covered settee, where he himself had often slept.

‘You can sleep here.’ He picked up the silver woollen throw which was on the arm chair, ‘Lie down,’ he said.

Harry hesitated for a moment. He wondered if this was some kind of big-person trick. He had the feeling that it was, but, then again, he had got his own way about the cot and he did feel like this was probably the place that big-boys took their naps. He also knew he wanted to go and see Draco - and Snape had said that he had to have a sleep if he wanted to.

‘Okay, Nape,’ he said at last. He lay down and Snape tucked the throw around him. Harry’s breathing was still irregular – in heavy little hiccoughs – but he was much more composed. Snape clicked his fingers to dim the lights.

‘Go to sleep,’ he said.

Harry put his head down on the big squashy cushion as Snape left the room and sucked on his fingers. All that crying had made him very sleepy and it wasn’t long till he felt himself drifting off.

‘Night Nape,’ he called sleepily. There was no reply, but when Harry woke almost an hour later, feeling much happier and refreshed for his visit to Draco, he smiled a secret smile to himself as he saw that Cheep-Cheep was tucked under his arm.

To be continued...
End Notes:
Phew, a close one … I wonder what Draco saw in Lucius’s mind – any ideas? There was a clue earlier …

 

I tried to have more interaction between Snape and Harry in this chapter because I love writing it. Did you like it?



This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=1196