Harry was woken up the next morning by birds tweeting near the narrow slated window that provided the only natural light to Snape’s sunken quarters. He held his canary that, which had named ‘Cheep-Cheep’, over his head so the he would be able to hear the other birds talking to him. Harry laughed as Cheep-Cheep answered them with a squawk. Harry, however, soon tired of this game. He pulled himself up in his cot. Where was Snape? He sucked on his fingers thoughtfully as looked through the bars and round the dim room. It was then that he realised that he was all alone.

Ba – da – dee –ga,’ he said unhappily. He didn’t like being alone, particularly when he was in the stupid wooden prison. His bottom lip pushed itself forward and began trembling. He hated this dark, cold room – it had a funny smell and, apart from the toy-box which was padlocked shut, there was nothing fun to do. His eyes searched frantically around the room for any sign of Snape’s greasy hair or billowy robes but he didn’t find any. Initially he felt tears prickle in his eyes and he opened his mouth to scream – but something stopped him. He couldn’t just sit and bawl could he? That was something only little babies did. There had to be a better way. He didn’t know exactly where this thought came from but once he had it he decided it was time for action.

Harry stood up on his tiptoes and peered out of his cot. The door that led to Snape’s room wasn’t that far away. If he could get out of his nasty jail then he would be easily able to get to him. Snape would realise what a big boy he was then and he wouldn’t make him go to bed early like a baby.

Harry pulled hard on the bars for a few minutes trying to pry them off but he couldn’t get them to budge. Frustrated, he lay face down on his blanket and beat his little fists on his pillow for a while. After a while, however, he realised that this wasn’t so clever and he had a better idea. Smiling widely, Harry pushed Cheep-Cheep through the bars of his cot onto the floor, confident that he would be joining him soon, and proceeded to deftly climb over the wooden grate. He stumbled back a few times, but, with the use of his pillow to give him a leg up, he eventually managed to jump over. It was a long way to the ground but Harry landed squarely on his nappy – which actually felt quite heavy – and so it didn’t hurt too much. Harry giggled as he put Cheep-Cheep in his mouth.

‘Me cwever,’ he said happily as he began his journey to find Snape.

***

Severus Snape had been unable to sleep well. Harry had actually been quiet after his initial hysterics and Snape had concluded that Hermione must have tired him out. Still, potential explanations for the curse which had transformed the boy-who-lived into the toddler-who-cried had been churning round and round in his head so that sleep would not come. He was now sat at the desk in his office, two doors away from Harry so that he wouldn’t wake him, pouring over spell books. A knock on the door interrupted him and Professor McGonagall entered followed by Molly Weasley.

‘Morning Severus,’ McGonagall said brightly. Snape scowled. He wondered exactly how many people Albus was going to tell about his newfound role as Harry’s unpaid babysitter.

‘Morning Severus,’ Molly echoed smiling at the frowning potions master. She had a wrapped bundle in her arms. ‘I’ve brought some of the boys’ old things for Harry.’

‘I wasn’t aware that a one-year-old child required so many material possessions,’ Snape said coldly, ‘or is Potter a special case?’ The last thing his now unrecognisable dungeon quarters needed was more baby debris.

Molly was unfazed. She knew that Snape liked to keep up his little sardonic act. ‘Oh well,’ she said smiling, ‘we all like spoiling babies now don’t we?’

Snape gave Molly a withering look. It seemed that he was alone in his opinion that Potter was even worse as a baby than he was a teenager.

‘Where is Mr Potter then?’ Professor McGonagall said, peering around the room over her small round spectacles.

‘Asleep,’ Snape snapped.

‘Severus!’ Molly chided, ‘It’s nine o’ clock. If you let him sleep too much during the day he’ll never sleep tonight much less go for a nap. You have to stick to a routine, didn’t Poppy explain that?’ The scowl on Snape’s face grew even more dower. ‘You know,’ Molly was continuing, ‘I don’t know why Albus didn’t ask for my help on the matter. I would be delighted to look after Harry – he’s always been such a joy, so helpful and polite.’ Snape snorted.

‘I should think he thought you had enough on your plate with your own children,’ McGonagall said. ‘Which reminds me,’ she went on with a frown ‘– I need to speak to you about Fred and George before you return to the Burrow.’

‘Oh those boys!’ Molly said, the smile erasing itself from her face. ‘What have they been up to now? I’ve told them a hundred times that it’s an important year for them now but they just don’t listen!’

‘Perhaps we should discuss it later,’ McGonagall said sensing that Molly’s rant might carry on for quite a while. ‘Shall we go and see Harry first?’

Snape grudgingly showed them through to the inner room of his quarters where Harry was sleeping. He didn’t appreciate being told what he was doing wrong by the mother of the Weasley twins, but he cursed himself for forgetting that he shouldn’t have let Harry sleep so long - the last thing he wanted was for Harry to refuse to sleep again that night.

As they approached the crib, however, it became obvious that Harry was neither asleep nor in it.

‘He’s not there Severus,’ McGonagall said looking swiftly round the room. ‘Has the door to your chambers been locked?’

‘Of course it has,’ Snape snapped.

‘When was the last time you checked on him?’ Molly said quite alarmed.

‘Last night.’

‘Last night?’ Molly said with exasperation. ‘You are supposed to check on toddlers much more frequently than that!’

‘Madame Pomfrey didn’t mention anything about “checking” on Potter.’

‘Its common sense,’ said Molly, her hands travelling to rest on her hips, ‘especially when you’re supposed to be protecting him from you-know-who and his death eaters!’ She was furious that Snape had allowed Harry to wander off.

‘I hardly think that the Dark Lord is going to pay me a little visit at Hogwarts in the middle of the night,’ Snape said silkily. ‘And, as I’m sure you are aware the wards around the castle are quite impenetrable.’ He had no idea how Harry had escaped but it most certainly wasn’t the work of the Dark Lord. After he had put Harry down to sleep he had added his own charms to Dumbledore’s to protect the chambers from being breached by so much as a fly.

‘I think we better look for the boy before we start panicking about Voldemort,’ McGonagall said, feeling quite satisfied with the way Snape flinched at her use of the dark wizard’s name – she too was furious that Snape had been so careless. ‘I’m sure he hasn’t gone far.’

In the end it was Cheep-Cheep’s squawking that gave Harry away.

On his way to find Snape, Harry had become distracted by an open cupboard in the green and silvery room which was next to his. He had had to crawl under the bed, and through a lot of thick dust which made him sneeze, to reach it, but when he did it was worth the wait. There were lots of fun things inside. He had found squidgy balls with blue and brown circles on them which spat goo when he squeezed them; little creepy crawlies which smelt funny and didn’t wriggle, even when Harry pulled their legs; a pile of multi-coloured feathers which tickled Harry, and much much more. The best thing of all though were the different coloured jars of drinky stuff. They were on a higher shelf and Harry had had to stand on a big book to reach them but when he did it was worth the wait. He pulled a few of them off the shelf to drink but then he realised that he wasn’t thirsty and that he could have more fun dipping the feathers in the jars and used them to colour pretty patterns all over himself, the cupboard, and the giant book he had used as a step. He also managed to turn the canary a nice purple colour.

After all this exertion, though, Harry had found himself very sleepy. He pulled the cupboard door closed to make it darker and lay down with his head on Cheep-Cheep. He thought he would just close his eyes for a few minutes before carrying on with his adventure to find Snape.

It was in this position in which Molly finally found Harry.

‘Over here,’ she called to Snape and McGonagall. She smiled down at the young, mischievous Harry. He was suckling contentedly on his thumb, his head on a strange purple stuffed toy which was squawking loudly. He could have looked almost angelic except for the mess surrounding him. It was obvious that he had attacked Severus’s potions cupboards. Ingredients were strewn around him – eyeballs, pickled cockroaches and even some phoenix and some hippogriff feathers. Unfortunately everything had been covered by multi-coloured potions which Harry had obviously taken for paints. Harry’s own romper suit was covered with dust and goo and even his little head of hair looked slimey.

Potions? Molly was suddenly anxious. She was just about to pick up Harry to check whether he might have swallowed anything when an angry voice interrupted her.

‘Potter!’

It was Snape. His usually pasty face was splotched red and his black eyes burned like two fire bolts. He couldn’t believe the mess Potter had made of his private potions cupboard and his new potions encyclopaedia. A drowsy Harry opened one eye. He was delighted to see that Snape had in fact found him – and that he had ‘Minrervy’ and a new smiley woman with him

‘Me cwever,’ he said - much to the amusement of Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall.

Potter,’ Snape shouted again, ‘get up this instant! How dare you interfere with my cupboard without my permission!’

Harry jumped at the sharp way in which Snape spoke to him. He sat bolt upright as he considered the man’s angry face and piercing eyes. Somewhere in his stomach he felt that this scenario was quite familiar. He seemed to remember being looked at like that by Snape before. His immediate reaction was to blow a raspberry or to shout something back at him as he felt that he wouldn’t normally let him get away with it, but on the other hand he also knew that he was now scared. He didn’t like Snape’s loud voice and his eyes were like a monsters. Though he was angry with himself for doing it, Harry couldn’t help but crumple up his face and began to cry, his arms squishing Cheep-Cheep for comfort as he tried to hide his head in his pyjamas.

‘Really Severus!’ Molly said bending down to pick up a wailing Harry. ‘He’s only a baby you know. It’s not his fault that you left the cupboard unlocked. You have to be very careful around toddlers.’ She took Harry carefully in her arms and he buried his face in her shoulder as she held him against her stomach and gently rubbed his back, rocking him back and forth to comfort him. Faced with some much-needed sympathy Harry obligingly bawled loudly. It felt so good to be held by the nice smiley woman with the fire-hair. She didn’t even seem to mind when he dripped goo onto her soft gold cloak.

‘He doesn’t know any better,’ agreed Professor McGonagall. ‘You can’t just bark at him and expect him to behave! He’s a baby not one of your students.’

‘He’s Potter,’ Snape snarled. He wasn’t fooled by the crocodile tears. He had seen the brief flash of rebellion in Potter’s eyes when he reproached him and he knew the disobedient teen was in there somewhere.

‘What if he drank some of the potions?’ Molly added. ‘He could have poisoned himself!’

‘Those particular potions are innocuous,’ Snape said, his eyes for the first time taking in the full extent of the damage to his stores. ‘They take three months of darkness to mature. Three months Potter!’ he snapped, angrily, ‘and you have ruined them in three minutes!’

Harry responded by pausing briefly and spitting bubbles in the direction of Snape. He then resumed his screaming at a much higher decibel than before. He had the vague sense that he might have been a bit naughty but he didn’t like being told off by Snape – besides all he had done was a bit of decorating.

‘Shush now dear,’ Molly said soothingly, ‘it’s alright, Professor Snape didn’t mean it.’ She jiggled him around, ‘Did you Severus?’

She didn’t notice when little Harry peered out from his tantrum to cast a mischievous look at Snape. He liked it when the smiley woman told off the angry man.

Snape did not trust himself to reply, simply looking daggers at Harry.

Molly patted Harry’s bottom gently as she rocked him back and forth, and then frowned - the towel that was safety-pinned around his waist as a nappy was full. She looked once more with disapproval at Snape. ‘He’s wet as well,’ she said. ‘Honestly Severus if you agreed to take look after the child the least you could do is make sure he’s taken care of!’

‘Perhaps the responsibility is too much,’ McGonagall said, her nose turned decidedly up in the air. She privately thought Dumbledore was mad to leave Harry with the potions teacher, and she had told him so. Dumbledore, however, had remained firm. He insisted that Severus was the best person to help Harry. ‘After all,’ she continued, ‘you don’t have any experience with toddlers.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Molly briskly, ‘If Arthur can do it then I’m sure that Severus can. Come on – did Poppy show you how to change a nappy?’

Snape grimaced. ‘Yes,’ he muttered.

‘Well let’s see if you can do it then.’

***

‘Use the powder Severus,’ Molly said as she watched the potions master changing a gurgling Harry. Professor McGonagall (much as she had wanted to watch Snape getting a lesson in nappy changing) had left them to it and Molly had been demonstrating what to do for the last five minutes. Harry had stopped crying and was watching Snape with interest from his position on his back the baby mat. ‘No don’t choke him with it,’ she reproached as Severus sent a cloud of powder everywhere, making Harry cough, ‘just a fine covering to dry him off.’

Snape pursed his lips. He couldn’t believe that he was spending his Sunday morning learning how to change Potter. He had to employ some of his more subtle occlumency skills to prevent Molly detecting just how humiliating it was for him. If this ever got out he would have to spend the rest of his life obliviating people to forget.

‘Now lift up his ankles together and pull the loose bit through his legs and fasten it like I showed you with the safety pin.’

This was easier said than done. Harry hadn’t forgiven Snape for shouting at him earlier and he wriggled and squirmed, kicking his legs in every direction but the one Snape wanted to make it difficult as possible. He giggled as Snape dropped the towel in disgust and he then turned over on the mat so that it was almost like he was (quite cheekily) mooning Snape.

‘Stop squirming Potter!’ Snape said through clenched teeth. Harry took no notice. Snape grabbed him and turned him back round sharply but this time Harry sat up and wrestled with Snape for the folded towel, his face determined and his tongue stuck out.

‘Come on now Harry,’ Molly said firmly, taking charge. ‘We need to get this nappy on you before you can play. Stop fidgeting. Severus if you snap at him he’s going to cry.’

Harry heard the word ‘play’ and decided to listen to the smiley lady’s firm tone. With one last cheeky look at Snape he lay back down and kept his legs still.

‘Good boy Harry,’ Mrs Weasley said. She handed him Cheep-Cheep to keep his hands out of trouble. ‘Come on then,’ she said to Snape, ‘you have to take your chance while you can!’

Even though Harry was still (typically he was obedient to Molly and not to him) Snape struggled with the nappy. He couldn’t work out exactly how the thing was supposed to go on. The triangle became more like a square and he couldn’t seem to keep the flaps still enough to secure them. Frustrated he took out his wand and muttered a fastening spell. The pin immediately jumped into action and attached the triangle of cloth round Potter’s waist.

‘Severus!’ Molly snapped loudly, causing Snape to jump and Harry to drop Cheep-Cheep. ‘You do not use magic to fasten a toddler’s nappy! You saw how much he wriggled – he could end up getting stuck with the pin.’

Snape coloured slightly. He wondered exactly how he had been brought to the position where Molly Weasley was speaking to him like he was twelve.

‘Now do it again,’ she said.

Harry grinned broadly at Snape. He seemed to be in as much trouble as Harry had been before. His smile faltered slightly, however, as his nappy was loosened again. He kicked his legs impatiently. How long was he going to spend on the changing mat? Why couldn’t Snape just hurry up and get on with it so Harry could play? Exactly how long had it been since he had a nappy on anyway?

On this last though Harry felt a sudden jolt in his stomach. It had been ages. With that, and without ceremony, a disgusted Snape was suddenly met with a jet of warm liquid from a giggling Harry.

Molly couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Next lesson,’ she said brightly, ‘how to bath him’

***

‘Alright, alright, I’m sorry,’ Draco spat to a furious Snape, wrenching his ear from the man’s grasp.

After his experiences with Potter that morning, Snape, leaving Molly to feed Harry, had stormed off to find a vent for his anger. Draco, as the root of the problem, was the perfect candidate. He journeyed to the Slytherin common room to retrieve him, pretending to the other students that he had prefect business to discuss.

Draco had not been fooled. He had been nervously expecting a visit from Snape for the last twenty-four hours. When they were in the deserted corridor near the dungeons he was not surprised as Snape grabbed his ear and half-dragged him inside the classroom. Snape and Draco got on fairly well most of the time, but his housemaster was not the type to be overly nice to anyone and Draco had been on the receiving end of his temper before – it was definitely not pleasant.

‘Sorry?’ Snape said, as calm as a blast-ended screwt might be before it blew your head off, ‘you do not know the meaning of the word.’

They stood facing each other in the middle of the dungeon classroom. Snape was glaring, his eyes like glass shards penetrating right to Draco’s soul. He held this gaze for a long few moments before Draco looked uncomfortably away.

‘I suppose you realise, Malfoy, that Dumbledore has given me the responsibility of looking after the boy until he can be returned to his normal state.’

Though he was trembling slightly, Draco had to fight very hard to prevent a snort escaping his lips at the thought of Snape in charge of a baby Potter. Luckily the sight of Snape with his wand poised to hex him did the trick.

‘But Sir,’ he said tentatively. ‘Now that Potter’s a baby, well, you could tell – er – the Dark Lord. If you’re in charge of him it would be easy to …’

‘Silence!’ hissed Snape, immediately cutting off Draco’s ramble. ‘Do you dare profess to talk to me about the Dark Lord? What has your father told you about his return - about the night at the Triwizard Tournament?’

Draco looked at his feet, ‘Nothing,’ he admitted. In fact, when he had even questioned his father about it he had been rewarded with a sharp whack with the silver-headed cane. Apparently his father did ‘not yet trust him with such information’.

‘No,’ said Snape, ‘and nor will he until you are of age and have taken the mark yourself. Lucius would see your attack on Potter for what is was – a childish and careless waste of powerful black magic.’

‘But it worked,’ Draco said indignantly. ‘Potter is a baby!’

‘And was that the intention of your father’s spell? Was it he that instructed you to curse Potter within the confines of Hogwarts - the most powerfully protected sanctuary in the entire wizarding world? Do you not think that he would be furious with you if indeed the curse was part of some plan between the Dark Lord and Lucius and you have wasted it and made it known to members of the Order?’

Draco coloured. Snape must know that his father had known nothing about his attack on Potter. He began to panic as Snape’s allowed his words to sink in. If Lucius found out he was going to be in a lot of trouble.

‘Father didn’t know Sir,’ Draco admitted at last.

An unreadable look passed briefly over Snape’s face. ‘And I suppose that you expect me to keep the secret from Lucius?’

Draco grimaced. He did not like admitting to Snape that he was scared of his father, but it was either that or face the wrath of Lucius. ‘If you would Sir,’ he said at last.

Snape surveyed Draco and felt satisfied at the discomfort he saw in his face – it was almost equal to his own. Snape actually had no intention of enlightening Lucius (Dumbledore had forbidden him to even if he desired it) but by not doing so he knew that he was putting himself in a very precarious situation - especially if it was subsequently discovered by the Dark Lord.

There were already rumours that Snape was an unfaithful servant of Voldemort. Such withholding of important information from his ‘master’ had the potential to lead to very painful retribution, and even death. Though it seemed he had been able to convince Draco that the Dark Lord would be angry with the result of the curse, privately Snape doubted that that was the full truth of it – in any case Voldemort would want to know about it. Snape wished that Dumbledore had allowed him to modify Draco’s memory as he knew Lucius could easily wrest the truth out of his son with legilimency if he ever got wind of what had occurred. It was typical Dumbledore – expecting Snape to put himself in danger to protect insufferable teenagers! Snape wondered if Dumbledore had ever experienced the Cruciatus curse as he had done the night he ‘returned’ to the Dark Lord – if he had then he might think twice about offering Snape up for more of the same treatment.

‘I will not be informing Lucius of your little “accident”, but only because it will not achieve anything.’

Draco exhaled with relief, ‘Thank-you, Sir.’

‘Perhaps, Mr Malfoy, you will not be thanking me so readily after you have learned your punishment. Firstly you will not play in the Quidditch match against Gryfinndor.’

‘What?’ said Draco indignantly. He thought he might almost prefer to face his father than miss such an important match. Snape, however, ignored him. He had mulled over a suitable punishment for Draco and this was the only one he thought would actually cause him to suffer – besides without Potter on the team (much as he hated to admit it) Slytherin would still have an good chance of winning.

‘You heard,’ he said. Snape saved the best till last. ‘You will also take a turn babysitting Potter. Three times a week when I choose.’

This was too much for Draco: Babysit the sap-who-lived? He wouldn’t do it. He voiced this to Snape. Unfortunately Snape was not impressed. He grabbed Draco by the scruff of his robes and frog-marched him out of the dungeon.

‘If I have to suffer Potter then so will you,’ Snape said, slamming the door closed with his wand.

Dusting himself off, Draco found himself wishing fervently that he had never sneaked into his father’s stupid office. Suddenly he had a thought, Three times a week, Snape had said. He realised that whatever curse he had thrown at Potter it was going to be enough to keep him as a baby for quite a long time. Sighing, he made his way back to the Slytherin common room trying to concoct in his head a plausible reason why he would have to miss the upcoming Quidditch match against Gryfinndor.