“Why didn’t we ask about this sooner?” Harry asked, hurrying after Draco down the hallway. Neither boy had stopped to reattach the carriers, although they had the foresight to grab the diaper bags in case they needed them. “I mean, Remus is a werewolf, we both know that. Why didn’t we think to ask Madame Pomfrey what to do with him during the full moons?”

“Because when dealing with my godfather and Defense professor being turned into infants, my first thought isn’t ‘what do we do with them during the full moon’?” Draco retorted, shifting his hold on Severus so that the baby couldn’t pull his hair. Harry didn’t have a similar problem with Remus, due to the simple fact that his hair was shorter than Draco’s and, regardless of how much Remus tried, he couldn’t reach Harry’s hair. “I didn’t even think about it, babies can’t take the Wolfsbane potion. It’s not even safe for older kids; werewolves have to be eighteen before they can take it.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked, exasperated. He wasn’t the best student in Potions, he would admit that. Even now, when Snape didn’t have to act like he hated his guts (or actually didn’t hate his guts, either or), he wasn’t the best. He was okay, but he’d never be a prodigy. Draco had always been good, about at Hermione’s level when it came to Potions, but he didn’t know how the other teenager knew that.

“Because Uncle Severus told me,” Draco said simply, sighing and adjusting his hold on Severus, or Sevy, as he’d need to get used to calling his godfather. The baby’s fussing was getting annoying, so letting him play with his hair was the better alternative right now. “He taught me a little about Potions over the summers. And I would ask what he was working on whenever I’d visit, to be polite. A lot of it went over my head.” He wasn’t ashamed to admit that, as although he was better at Potions than most of their year, he wasn’t a prodigy by any means, and certainly not at Severus Snape’s level. “Last time I visited him, he explained what his experimental potion was supposed to do. Something about making it possible to brew, bottle, and store the potion, rather than having to brew it specially. It would be more affordable to werewolves this way, and better provide anonymity.”

“And he told you that babies can’t take the potion somewhere in that?” Harry asked, confused. How did the bottling of the potion have anything to do with the age of the taker?

“I asked if there would be more werewolves at Hogwarts, now that he was making it more affordable for lycanthropes to deal with the full moons,” Draco explained. “He said no, and lectured me about the reasons why the potion was unsafe for consumption by children. That was going to be his next step, if the current version worked.” At least it would, theoretically, be able to be saved until Lupin was restored to his proper age again.

Harry just shook his head and breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the hospital wing. He thought that, if Snape would just explain things that simply, then Potions class would be a lot less difficult for everyone, but that was a thought for another day. It didn’t take either of them long to locate Madame Pomfrey once they were in the hospital wing, but her reaction to their worries surprised them.

Namely, her lack of worry about the fact that they would have a de-aged werewolf on their hands in less than a week. Harry was the one brave enough to risk the mediwitch’s wrath by asking that question.

“Remus isn’t any more dangerous at this moment than Severus is,” Madame Pomfrey said simply, conjuring up two stuffed animals, one a phoenix and the other an augery, and passing them to the two babies. Unsurprisingly, at least to Harry’s mind, Sevy took the augery while Remy took the phoenix. “According to the information the headmaster provided me with when Remus was accepted into Hogwarts, he was bitten shortly before his fifth birthday.” Both Madame Pomfrey and Draco looked at Harry, who nodded in confirmation.

“He told me, once when I asked. His dad was able to stop Greyback from killing him, but not from infecting him,” Harry said. “His parents took him to healers, trying to find a cure, but there’s no cure for lycanthropy. They all thought that he’d never get the chance at a decent magical education.”

“Most werewolves don’t, or at least not a traditional one,” Madame Pomfrey sighed. The babies were contently chewing on their stuffed animals, so there wasn’t much worry about a disruption from their quarter for the moment. “Albus wanted to give Remus a chance regardless of his condition, and you know the rest.”

Draco and Harry both nodded. The Whomping Willow was planted, with Remus being smuggled out of the school whenever the moon was full, so that he could go through his transformations without anyone becoming aware of the fact that there was indeed a werewolf at Hogwarts. “But that doesn’t explain why he’s harmless now,” Draco pointed out. “We can’t just abandon a baby in the Shrieking Shack, and he can’t take the Wolfsbane potion.”

“Correct, Mr. Malfoy, but you are missing one crucial bit of knowledge,” the mediwitch countered. “Remus and Severus were not simply made younger. They were taken back to the exact state they were in when they were three months old. Severus is slightly smaller than Remus, as a result of his poor nutrition at that stage of his life.”

“And Remus is safe, because he isn’t going to become a werewolf again until he’s four or five, or when an antidote is found,” Harry realized. “So there won’t be a miniaturized werewolf running around next week?”

“No, Mr. Potter, there will not be,” Madame Pomfrey confirmed. “Remus is no more dangerous than any typical three month old wizard.”

“Meaning, outside of a few instances of accidental magic, we should be safe,” Draco replied, relieved. He may have never had personal contact with any werewolf other than Fenrir and the wolves in his pack, but those experiences were more than enough for him. He never wanted to be in the presence of a werewolf during the full moon, not unless said werewolf had taken the Wolfsbane potion. “Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” He was glad that it had been revealed now, but it would have saved a lot of worry if the mediwitch had just told them that when she was giving them directions about taking care of children.

“If you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Malfoy, I have had rather a lot to do today,” Madame Pomfrey pointed out, a trifle testily. “Aside from dealing with the usual accidents that come from mixing teenagers and magic, I have also been researching aging and de-aging potions in an attempt to discover what Severus was researching and how its effects can be reversed. I also needed to give both you and Mr. Potter a lesson on tending to children while going about my usual duties. I believe that I can be forgiven for making a mistake.”

Draco seemed torn between making a sarcastic remark and looking down sheepishly, so Harry shifted his hold on Remus and grabbed Draco’s sleeve, tugging the other teen after him.

“What was that for?” Draco snapped once they were in the hallway, Severus and Remus still enamored with their new stuffed animals. Little things apparently made babies happy, he noted absently. “And stop pulling on my sleeve, this is a new shirt.”

“Clothes horse,” Harry muttered, but obligingly let go of Draco’s sleeve. “And I pulled you out of there because Madame Pomfrey has a point. She made a mistake, it could happen to anyone. The important thing is, we know that Remy isn’t going to be a danger during the full moons, at least not until he’s older. Now we can go back to the room and start working on a schedule.”

“You’re lucky you were holding a baby, Potter, or I would’ve hexed you,” Draco warned, but he let the subject drop after that. Okay, maybe he had overreacted a little, but Pomfrey should’ve told them that Lupin wouldn’t be a threat. Yes, she was busy, but this was something important. Werewolves were dangerous during the full moon, and some of them had been dangerous even when the moon wasn’t full. Those werewolves were part of Fenrir’s pack, however, and all of them were dead or imprisoned now, casualties of the war. “I’m not taking all of the diaper changes.”

Harry rolled his eyes at that and kept walking. One good thing to come out of the war was that he had finally learned some patience. He wasn’t perfect, and Draco knew how to push his buttons better than anyone else, but he didn’t fly off the handle as easily as he used to. This time, he was able to recognize that Draco was just grumbling because he knew that Harry was right but didn’t want to admit it, which let the black-haired teen keep his temper. “I’ll take half of them, Draco, that’s the fairest option.”

“McGonagall should have assigned a house elf to help us,” Draco grumbled, catching the augery plush when Severus almost dropped it, handing it back to the baby before Severus could start crying. “Kreacher knows how to take care of children.”

“How would Kreacher know anything about babies?” Harry asked, confused. Kreacher hadn’t had any children of his own, as far as Harry knew. Then again, there was still a lot he didn’t know about house elves, even after Hermione’s repeated lectures about their lack of rights.

Draco gave Harry a slightly pitying, ‘how clueless are you Potter, really?’ look, but answered the question. “In pureblood families, it’s common for house elves to take care of the children. Changing diapers, feeding them, keeping them out of the way while their parents are busy, etc.”

“Molly never did that,” Harry pointed out, because he was fairly certain he would’ve heard about house elf nannies by now if that was the case. “And your parents did that to you? Had a house elf keep you out of the way?” That sounded like a fairly lonely way to grow up, although admittedly it still would’ve been a lot better than growing up with the Dursleys.

Draco shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. My father suggested it, it was common in both the Malfoy and Black families, but my mother didn’t want to trust anyone else to raise me. They were both home fairly often, as Father would only leave when he needed to oversee some aspect of one of his businesses. Mother was home as it wasn’t considered proper for her to work. If she did decide to leave the Manor, to go shopping or to a spa, she would take me with her.”

“You went to spas?” Harry asked, snickering. He hadn’t even really knew that wizards had spas, but imagining Draco in one of those fluffy white robes and having cucumbers put on his eyes was an amusing picture.

“Sometimes,” Draco said, unashamed, although his expression warned Harry to not press further. “My mother needed to relax at times, so I would go with her. Or I would stay with my father, and he would teach me family history, simple spells, history of our world…everything that I needed to know. Uncle Severus would teach me beginner potions as well, when he had the time. Usually during the summer, since he was too busy during the school year.”

“How is that fair to muggle raised kids?” Harry asked, frowning. If all purebloods were raised like Draco was, there was a definite advantage to them.

“Not all wizarding children are raised like that,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Look at your friend Weasley. My father was old-fashioned, however, and he believed that a decent magical education needed to begin early. The Ministry didn’t know that I was doing magic, as I was in a residence with other adult witches and wizards, so we weren’t fined.”

Harry supposed that made sense, especially with how Hermione had been able to fix his glasses in Diagon Alley without getting in trouble with the Ministry. It still seemed pretty unfair, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. Still, as he followed Draco into their new rooms, he turned over a few thoughts. There was nothing he could do now, but after Severus and Remus were their proper age again…well, he’d see.