A/N: I got bored. Be prepared for fluffiness! And if you want this to become an actual story, let me know. I can't promise anything. I've got writer's block for Fire Tears.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter!
Pansy Parkinson bit her lip as she studied the sleeping child in front of her. At four years old, Harry Potter was laying asleep in the small cot beside Pansy's bed. Having been given new rooms to take care of the tot, she was a little unnerved at how quiet little Harry Potter was. He was supposed to be bloody seventeen! Not five!
Ugh. Blasted Malfoy. Stupid Potter and his hero complex. Pansy was shaken back to the real world when she heard a slight whimper. Said young tot's face was scrunched up uncomfortably.
"Shhh..." Pansy murmured, gently swiping a lock of black hair from the boy's head to the side. "You're okay.." She sighed slightly. Pansy frowned though as she gently pressed her hand to Potter's forehead.
He was burning up.
Pansy started mumbling a song under her breath as she gently wrung a rag in a bucket full of cold water. Harry had been sick the entire day, and Pansy had been excused from classes to make sure he was alright. It was a humbling experience, trying to take care of a four year old. It was hard, but rewarding.
Harry whimpered in his sleep.
The black-haired girl gently wiped Harry's face, glancing down at the sleeping toddler with an almost fond expression. Yes. Harry was growing on her. Ever since he had defeated Voldemort, the press had been hounding him. Then came the accident in potions. Despite Professor Slughorn's endless attempts to find a cure, Pansy knew that the de-aging part of it was permanent. Very. Very. Permanent.
She had yelled at Ron Weasley for a good thirty seconds before she had felt a tiny hand tug at her shirt. The way the emerald eyes got to her made Pansy melt and want to coo at him. God. Potter was an adorable kid. Didn't explain his flinches though. She was slightly curious to what that meant.
"Nnn..nn..nooo.." Pansy was once more brought back to the present as a garbled word escaped the small child.
"Shhh.. shh.." Pansy cooed softly, gently picking up the boy and cradling him much like a baby. Wrapping his new dark green blankie around the toddler, Pansy cradled him close and gently wiped another damp, soft rag on his face.
"Pan?" The little kid inquired sleepily, yawning and giving a humongous sneeze. Wiping some snot off of her neck with a towel, Pansy gently rocked Harry in the rocking chair she was currently sitting in.
"Shh, Har." she murmured. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake."
Then she began to sing. "Once, upon a tiiiime.. The stars walked the Eaaarth. They gave kisses to little boys, and danced in the niiiight. Hush little star, and sleep with the moon glooowing over youu.."