Harry sat in Snape’s office with Draco at his side. For the last eternity the two of them had tried to write lines. This mission had shown itself difficult to accomplish due to the fact that most three year-olds bodies were lacking the ability to handle a quill. The line Snape had given them had been as good as impossible.
“I must not be of such obtuse stupidity. The ignoration I have shown to regards of past events have been monumentally shocking. Furthermore I will show that I am not completely lacking capability in the art of making respectable decisions."
He had tried at least thirty times, but it was so long and difficult that he hadn’t even made it halfway through a single one of them.
His small childish fingers were not meant for such activities, and at the moment he was feeling the painful strain of it. The rest of his body was throbbing, the climb up the stairs in his present condition had made him utterly exhausted.
The baggy clothes he was wearing had not been much help. He had found that he was wearing the exact same outfit as he was before the explosion, luckily the clothes had shrunk a fair deal. However it did seem as even magic had its restraints, his clothes was still at least three sizes to big. With every step he took he could feel his pants trying to slip off, and he had been forced to try to hold them up whilst climbing the enormous stairs. Fortunately he wasn’t the only one with this problem, Draco had worn some dark emerald wizards robes and he was tripping over them every other step.
Harry was very happy he had bought some new clothes before the beginning of last year, it had been a true joy to finally have clothes he didn’t need to feel ashamed of. He hadn’t bought the most expensive brands, like the ones that Draco always wore, but he still had decent clothes for once in his life. If he had been wearing Dudley’s old castoffs he would never have heard the end of Snape’s ugly remarks. In his current state he was even more happy that none of them had seen him in the old bits of junk, with them on, and in his current battered and skinny toddler body he would have looked like a starved and bruised street rat.
When they finally had gotten to the bathroom on the second floor Harry had gotten a pleasant surprise. He had completely forgotten how much better his sight was at this age. When he looked at himself in the mirror he was momentarily flummoxed, for a moment he had doubted that it was himself he was staring at. The largest difference was that his bright emerald eyes no longer was sheltered behind thick glasses, he hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t wearing them. His eyes were brighter than he could remember, they shone like emerald crystals. It might simply be the fact that he very rarely saw himself without glasses that down-toned the bright colors, but it was a nice change. The other feats that astonished him was the look of himself, he was extremely sunburned and so skinny it looked very unnatural. In addition he could see uncle Vernon finger marks turning purple at his neck. It seemed like the sunburn helped conceal the complexity of the bruise, which he was happy about.
He could vividly remember what had happened to make him receive that beating. That beating had been the worst one he had gotten at that age, it was almost as if it happened a few days ago. With some afterthought he mused, it might have happened a few days ago, at least if one were to consider his body’s timeline.
Dudley’s birthday had been coming up, and the Dursley’s was of course having a big celebration. All their family, friends, and Dudley’s playmates were coming. It was going to be a steak out in the garden, and Harry had just been learning how to care for the roses. Aunt Petunia had thought it was too much work for her wispy limbs. Therefore she had grudgingly taken the time to show Harry how he should do it. His fingers were still sore from the cuts he had gotten, but he had managed to do a decent job with the flowers. He had secretly been hoping it would make aunt Petunia happy, he wanted her to be happy with him the same way she was happy with Dudley, but that was very hard to manage. When he proudly showed her the roses she had just snapped at him that he wasn’t to bother her with such unimportant things. This had made Harry a bit sad, but his three year old mind didn’t linger long upon it.
Aunt Petunia was in a bit of a sour mood, she had gotten a message from Dudley’s nursery school saying he was due to start potty training, and that she should get a move on. She of course thought this was a load of rubbish, her little duddikins was just a baby after all. He would be potty trained when he was ready. Despite this, she had bought him a potty and tried to put him there when he had to go, Dudley didn’t want to, and after one half hearted attempt she gave up the idea.
Harry on the other hand was nearly potty trained already despite never actually being trained to do so. He had to go on the big toilet, and he felt a bit proud because of this, he could do something Dudley couldn’t. He had thought aunt Petunia would praise him, but she never did. Harry wasn’t about to stop doing it though, he had learned that having potty accidents hurt. Uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia didn’t like it when he did, so he tried to the best of his abilities to avoided it. Even so, every once in a while it happened. Sometimes he just forgot about it, and every time it hurt very much. It had been a long time since the last one now, but uncle Vernon always had other excuses to make him hurt. It usually didn’t hurt as badly though, it very much depended on what he did or didn’t do.
It was worse in the night, then he had to get up, walk up the stairs and go on the big toilet in the dark. Harry didn’t like it when it was dark, he got a bit scared. Sometimes he didn’t even wake up before his mattress was already wet. Aunt petunia got angry at him for this, but not as much. Often he even managed to hide it from them. They never visited him in his cupboard, and this was something Harry was glad for. It would have been an awfully tight fit if uncle Vernon was coming for a visit.
Harry remembered he had been sitting in his dark cupboard, hearing the laughter and sound radiating from the yard. He couldn’t understand just why he wasn’t allowed to be in there with the rest, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to ask. His aunt and uncle didn’t like it when he asked questions.
Harry looked around in the dark room, his eyes was used to the darkness now, but he still didn’t like it very much. He had tried to find something to do, but nothing really caught his attention. He had some paper towels, two broken crayons, and a small plastic horse with only two legs.
He decided to draw a bit on the wall. Dudley had a fixation on dragons at the moment, and Harry thought they sounded very cool. He would have wanted a dragon, or really any animal, to company him when he sat alone in his cupboard. It got really boring after a while. He decided he could draw some friends, and started on drawing a dragon.
After a while he really needed to go potty, but he still hadn’t been let out of the small room. He had tried knocking on the door and calling for aunt Petunia, but no one seemed to hear him. Had it not been for the fact that the door was locked from the outside, he could just have been quick and no one would have seen him. Harry could feel the tears starting to run down his cheeks, he really wished the door would just open. Miraculously, precisely when Harry made his wish, the cupboard door swung open. Harry looked started around, he felt a tickling sensation vibrate on his skin, but saw no one. The little boy let out a small giggle, before hurriedly standing up and running to the stairs. He was just about to set his foot at the first step when the front door swung open. Harry turned around and froze in his tracks. In the doorway stood uncle Vernon, his plump face turning a darker and more vibrant red every second that passed. Harry knew that was definitely not a good sign. The small child drew back, and hunched his back, he got scared when his uncle looked like that.
"BOY!" Uncle Vernon thundered just as the front door banged shut. "I told you to stay in the bloody cupboard didn’t I?!"
"Beats me how you little freak even got out!" Uncle Vernon bellowed at him furiously.
"Harwy was gowing potty" Harry answered in a small, terrified voice.
The explanation didn’t seem to help. Uncle Vernon was thundering towards him with heavy, angry footsteps. His face was beet red and he looked like he was going to crush anything in his way to pieces. Harry felt the panic in him rise, he stood there as petrified, completely terrified of what was going to happen. Uncle Vernon towered over him, and just as Harry felt his fear rise to a peak, he also felt warm liquid running down his leg. If he had thought his fear level already had reached its potential, he had been thoroughly mistaken. If it was one thing uncle Vernon hated it was when Harry disobeyed, and now he had done it twice.
The next transactions was a sort of blur. He didn’t know if it was because of the pain, or if it was some sort of self preservation technique his mind had worked out afterwards. Anyhow all he could seem to remember was unconnected images and sensations of pain, until uncle Vernon had thrown him into his cupboard. His back had been hurting a lot, and the rest of his body was painful too. His small frame was shaking with a mixture of tears, fear, and hurt. This was his first real taste of the unpleasantries he was about to experience for the next ten years of his life.
____
Harry shook his head. That had been a way too vivid replay of events. It had to be caused by his new psychical form, it did seem Snape had been right about some changes in his mind too. He had never before remembered so much of the details surrounding that first beating as he had just now. He felt sick, that had really been his first taste of beatings at the Dursley’s. Sure, he had been neglected and given a couple of smacks before, but never before had he been given a full out beating. Harry shuddered as he remembered the aftermath of uncle Vernon’s rage. Once again he gave his head a couple of hard shakes to get rid of the images, he didn’t understand why all the blasted memories decided to antagonize him now.
As he looked up he halted, his eyes met Snape’s and Harry felt a chill run cold down his spine. The way Snape stared at him unsettled him. His eyes were as two cold black holes, and Harry really didn’t want to fall in. The whole man unsettled Harry, perhaps even more now than before. Harry wrenched his eyes away from Snape’s clutches and tried once again to focus on the lines. There’s no need to say that he failed miserably. There was something in Snape’s gaze that made him apprehensive but he couldn’t quite set his finger on exactly what.
Next to him Draco sat squirming in his chair, it seemed as Draco had just as much problems as him with focusing on the writing. Harry felt his mood lighten up a little, he almost had to laugh, Draco looked exactly like a bored toddler. At that moment Draco caught his eyes. He seemed to have guessed what Harry was thinking and stuck his tongue out at him. Harry started to giggle, and Draco went as red as a stop sign when he realized his mistake, but he struggled to keep a straight face when Harry’s laughter increased.
Snape cleared his throat and glared at them. He considered them for a few moments before making a decision.
"As it seems your mental capacity are colossally lacking I see myself with no other option than to send you to bed. You will eat, and then get ready for bed."
"I will have food on the table in ten minutes" Snape drawled on.
Harry and Draco hurriedly walked out of the room. Just as the door closed behind them they both burst out in giggles.
_____
Harry and Draco had just managed to climb up on their chairs. Even though this seemed like an easy accomplishment, it was not. Harry could not remember that it was this hard to be small, but it certainly was. The dinner was on the table. They were having chicken, noodles and vegetables, it all looked and smelled delicious.
Snape swooped into the room. He walked with determent steps to the table, put a potion right in front of Harry and sat down. Harry looked puzzled at the potion, he didn’t recognize it.
"Drink the potion and eat your dinner." Snape seemed to sense his hesitation.
"What is it?" Harry said in a childish voice.
Snape seemed to debate wether or not to answer, but at last he did.
"It is a nourishing supplement, it will help you gain weight." Snape said completely emotionless.
Harry was a bit puzzled by why Snape would bother, but decided he would drink the potion anyway. He could really use a few extra pounds on his body. He grimaced at the taste of the potion and got a disapproving snort in return from the potions master. It wasn’t exactly a bad taste, but it wasn’t good either.
Harry turned his attention on his food, and with relish he started eating. The fork proved difficult to maneuver, and after 10 minutes both boys had chicken and noodles everywhere. Harry was extremely full. He had managed to eat about half of what Draco ate, personally he thought this was a great accomplishment. He wasn’t used to much food at this age, and definitely wasn’t used to the rich quality of the food. Draco had eaten his fill too, but he hadn’t touched the vegetables. At one point he had stuffed a small broccoli into his mouth, gagged and spit it out again. He had earned a few disappointing remarks from Snape, and had kept his distance from the vegetables ever since.
_____
Snape considered the two small boys in desperate need of a bath. He wasn’t used to children this small, and on principle didn’t like them. However, now he was stuck with two of them. He momentarily debated whether he should call for a house else to give them a bath, but somehow he didn’t think it would be well met by the kids. They had after all kept their teenage mentality. He wondered if he should make them take a bath together, or if it was safe enough to let them take a shower on their own. Their bodies were still the ones of a three year old. He really didn’t want to do the task himself either.
He let out an internal sigh, he really wasn’t meant for this.
"Can I rely on the two of you to manage to take a bath and get ready for bed, or do you require my assistance to not drown in my bathroom?" Snape asked as sarcastically he could.
The effect were immediate and almost comical. He just managed to stop himself from letting out a snort of amusement when he saw the horror struck faces of his to wards.
_____
Harry looked horrorstruck at Draco just to find that Draco sported the same appalled expression. Had it not been for the words Snape had just said the situation could have been almost comical. There was NO WAY he would be bathed by his potions professor, just the thought was horrendous.
"NOO" they both nearly screamed in unison.
"We will do it ourself!" Draco added quickly.
"Well then, get going."
He could have sworn he saw Snape smirk amusedly as he walked away. Harry and Draco looked at each other, both still completely abashed, their mouths hanging wide open.
"If you are not planning to set up a fly trap I would advise the both of you to close your mouth" They heard Snape snap unimpressed from the living room.
Chapter 6 Harry’s first beating