~Succumbing to Childhood~

Summary: Harry transports himself into a different universe, where he is now a baby and his parents are alive. Although terrified, Harry realizes that now is his chance to experience a normal life with his parents. Voldemort seems to be nonexistent in this new life, but as Harry grows older, he may come to realize that some things haven't changed after all.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this idea.

Chapter 1 – First Steps

My eyes were closed tight. The suction of the wind escaping the invisible room I stood in was deafening to my ears. My hair and robes were waving around madly, disturbed by the sudden change in atmosphere. It sounded as though a bomb had been dropped in the distance, and was making contact with the ground in a matter of seconds. It was suddenly silent. And then I waited for it – the impact. I anticipated I was going to feel it—a sharp pain, perhaps—but it never happened.

Did I kill him? Was it over? Oh Merlin...was I dead? I opened my eyes, not knowing what to expect.

I was sitting in front of a brown couch. Did I accidently apparate?

I tried to look to my left, immediately regretting it. My neck was extremely sore.

I had to get up. I had to investigate this strange place. But I felt weak. I could barely feel my legs. I grabbed onto the couch and lifted myself up. Upon doing so, I noticed that my hand looked a bit swollen. I brushed it off…after all, I had just come from battle. It could've been anything.

With a tight grip on the couch, I took a couple of wobbly steps to the side.

Dammit, Harry. You can do this. You're not weak.

I let go of the couch and prepared to take more steps, using the carpet a couple of feet in front of me to spot myself.

Bloody perfect! What's wrong with my legs?

My legs felt so boneless and wobbly that I had to check them to make sure I hadn't splinched a piece off. That's when I noticed my feet. Was it merely my terrible eye sight or did my feet look terribly small-?

"Pssst! Lily...come in here!"

My eyes widened. That voice. Where had I heard that voice? I turned my head in the direction the voice had come from.

It was a man—a man I had only seen in pictures—sitting behind me right now. At least, it appeared so. This couldn't be real, of course. I must be imagining this.

Then I heard a gasp come from the entrance of the room. And there appeared another person I had only ever seen in pictures, but this time it was a woman.

Upon seeing me there, standing, she asked "Did I miss it, James?" She looked hopeful.

"Not yet, Lils," he –James– said, his voice quiet.

I stared at them in disbelief while my heart raced. I was definitely in a trance...or a dream. I must have been knocked out during the fight, and now I was hallucinating. Because if these people were who I thought they were, they were my parents.

"I think he's a bit frightened," Lily said, apparently noticing my look.

I was definitely hallucinating. My mother looked incredibly tall from where she stood. And I was seeing my hands and feet different sizes. Not to mention the fact that they had both been dead for almost two decades.

"C'mon Harry...come to me...you can do it," James said. He reached out to me.

No…it can't be.

The situation occurred to me. I was reliving an old memory—a memory of taking my first steps.

I looked into James's eyes—those hazel eyes that I didn't inherit. The only difference, between him and I, according to Remus and Sirius. He really did look like me. It was like staring into a mirror.

He smiled at me. It was a genuine smile. A kind of smile I had never seen before. It was as if I brought joy to his entire world...as if he really cared for me.

I had to do this. I wanted so badly to make it to him.

My heart beating increasingly faster, I took my first wobbly step towards him – my dad. I looked at my foot. It was a chubby baby foot. My baby foot. Come on, baby foot.

On the second step, I almost lost balance. Lily gasped a little, and I felt bad for scaring her.

"Good job, Harry, almost there."

It was just the encouragement I needed from him.

I didn't understand why this was so hard, but I kept at it. Next thing I knew, I took a third step. Then a fourth step! I was sure I could run. My fifth step was an attempt to do so, but it turned into me falling into my sixth step. Then I was just falling.

James caught me just in time.

"Good job, Harry! Good job!" was all I heard coming from my parents. I could feel how proud they were. I couldn't remember the last time someone had praised me. It felt so incredibly amazing, and for once I felt rather special.

But there was something else that felt weird. I could feel his soft robes between my little fingers. I could feel his large, strong hands – individual fingers, even – around my rib cage. I could smell his deodorant. I could feel gravity on me as he passed me to Lily. I could feel her soft lips as she kissed my entire face. Her hands were more gentle and soft than James's. It all felt so real.

I got a whiff of Lily. I expected to smell flowers. But she didn't smell like that. She smelled fresh. Like laundry straight out of the drier. It was wonderful.

Then I became aware of how I felt. I looked down at my body.

I was tiny. I had a fluffy diaper on. I soaked that thought in for a moment...it was a little embarrassing. Here I was, subconsciously experiencing a few real life-like moments with my parents for the first time, and I was in a damn diaper.

I had a plain white onesie on. At least it covered a majority of the big, embarrassing diaper. But I still felt half naked. I didn't usually walk around without pants on.

I looked up at my mom's eyes. They were so pretty and green. No wonder everybody felt the need to comment on my eyes. But they just looked so much prettier on her...

I wanted to talk to her. I tried.

"It's me, mom..."

But I was horrified when all that came out of my mouth was a series of babble words, with the word "ma" thrown in the mix.

I tried again.

"Ma?"

That was all I could muster.

Lily noticed my confusion. "Yes, Harry. You did so good. You're so strong." She pulled me in tight.

I wondered when I would stop hallucinating. I didn't want it to end. But I knew it was going to.

I yawned.

Lily chuckled. "Walking is tiring, isn't it? Let's get you to bed. It's about time anyway," she said, checking a clock nearby.

My parents both tucked me into bed that night. I soaked in every loving word that they said to me before they left. I really was loved, and it felt so different…but rather good. I tried to keep my eyes open so I could just see their faces. I wanted to remember how alive they were in this memory. But slowly and unfortunately, as I lay there, I began to drift to sleep. My last thoughts were sad as I realized that when I woke up I would probably be conscious again and in my own world – far away from these wonderful memories. I wondered if the battle was over…I wondered where my body might be.

And then everything went black.

A crow cawed loudly right outside my window, waking me out of my sleep like an alarm clock.

I stretched my legs and peeled my eyes open, letting my blurry vision adjust to the blue morning light filtering in.

The first thing I noticed was the mobile above my bed.

I sat up in my bed – except it was more like my cage. I was in a crib.

Oh right. I thought. But shouldn't I be done hallucinating?

I stood up in my crib with terrible balance, holding onto the bars for support. I tried to call for James or Lily. And, of course, all I could say was babble.

I noticed something wet on me. More like, in my pants. Well, diaper.

Bloody hell no.

Did I really sleep through that?

Not only was I horrified from the idea of wetting myself, but realizing that I was still in this baby form was starting to scare me. This hallucination was getting weird, especially since it still felt incredibly real.

"Baaa!" I tried to say "help" as loud as I could, but obviously my voice would not let me. I was so uncomfortable in this wet nappy.

Finally, James came into the room, answering my call. He looked like he had just stepped out of a shower – his hair was still wet and he carried a strong shampoo smell into the room with him.

"How's my boy doing?" he said happily, smiling at me as he came to the crib.

I made a noise of discomfort, hoping he would understand that I needed to change right away.

"Oh I know that whine. Don't worry, mini me, I'll get you cleaned up." And he lifted me out of the crib and to the changing table.

As we were approaching the changing table, I realized what exactly was about to happen.

Ok, brain. This is one memory I don't need to relive…

This was too strange. I wasn't about to do this. There was no way. But what was I to do? It's not like I could run away or tell James I could do this myself…or could I?

I resorted to struggling against him, and when that obviously didn't work, that led to crying. Why were my bloody emotions so strong right now?

"Shhh, I know, Harry, I know…" That bit didn't help me relax because he didn't know.

After the horrible act, I wouldn't blame a baby for crying so much while being changed, because it was absolutely mortifying.

When James was done, he sat me up on the table.

"There. That wasn't too bad, now was it?"

I grumbled as well as I could to show my distaste, but I don't think James was getting my message.

There was still a ball of nerves rolling around in my stomach as I wondered how long I would be in this baby form. Maybe…just maybe this was real? Did I somehow transport to the body of my baby self? Was I just dead, and reliving my earliest memories? As exhilarating as it was to see and feel my parents, I was anxious at the idea of not being able to talk – or being a helpless baby for that matter. How could I tell Lily and James that I was older me trapped inside younger me?

No. I was just being paranoid. I would probably wake up in St. Mungos anytime soon now.

James put a clean baby blue onesie and a pair of white socks on me. It was so degrading to be dressed in these baby garments, but James didn't know that. He looked over me, sitting there on the changing table, my legs sprawled out and my arms at my sides. I looked back at him, wondering what he was going to do. I must've looked strange, since he started to laugh at me.

"Why so serious, Harry? Now that you know how to walk, you're suddenly all grown up, are you?" he joked.

I am grown up. That nervous ball in my stomach seemed to rise to my chest and burst. I still hadn't come to terms with the idea I might never get out of this baby form. And I began to cry again.

Stupid tears.

James's smile disappeared at once and he took me in his arms. "Don't cry, Hare. It was only a joke."

Ha ha.

"You're probably hungry, aren't you?" James said, although I wasn't really listening.

I was a baby. I had almost no control over my body. I was completely dependent. This was a new feeling for me. Not even at the Dursley's had I ever been this dependent. I cooked my own food, changed my own clothes, and cleaned my own messes. I had never been "babied" or spoiled rotten. I didn't need someone to wipe my arse. I could do it perfectly fine by myself!

Realizing my problem wasn't hunger, James patted my back while I cried. I felt stupid for crying for the second time today, but it was as if I couldn't control my emotions. It wasn't that I was sad, but I was scared, and my body reacted accordingly…as a baby would.

James nestled my head against his upper neck, with his jaw resting against my temple. I could feel the warm air coming from his nostrils as he breathed. He bounced me, and I gradually began to feel comforted, much to my surprise.

Maybe this wouldn't be the end of the world. Maybe I should just let this happen. It might be nice to depend on somebody else for a change. It wasn't going to be easy. Being treated like a baby at seventeen was not exactly a dream come true. Being surrounded by my parents though…it is the only thing I have ever really wanted.

Later that day I was forced to sit at the dining table in a high chair, with another degrading piece of clothing – this time, it was a bib tied around my neck. In front of me was a jar of horribly awful-looking orange baby mush. I had a spoonful of it in my mouth, and was trying to make myself swallow it. But I couldn't, and surely I looked disgusted as I let most of the food dribble out of my mouth. How was this food made anyway? My guess was that overripe vegetables were stuffed down the garbage disposal and then recollected from the drain into this jar.

"Lils...by the look on his face, I think we ought to feed him something more appealing," James said, sniggering at my expression from across the table.

But Lily held another spoonful out for me, determined to get me to eat more. "Of course he would hate all the vegetable flavored ones."

I kept my lips sealed tight and backed my face away from the little spoon. I had never really been picky about food, but this particular food was just horrendous.

"C'mon Harry, do it for mum," Lily said, slightly cooing.

Well…if it's for you mum.

I reluctantly parted my lips, and without hesitation Lily stuffed that dreaded spoonful right in.

"Yes, Harry!" she praised, and she smiled so big and looked so bright, that I guess that gross taste had been worth it.

"Wow Lily…he must really love you," James laughed.

"Of course he loves me!" Lily snapped at James.

"Mashed carrots has never tasted so good has it, Harry?" James asked me.

Carrots? I wouldn't have guessed.

"He's a trooper," Lily said proudly.

I choked down a few more spoonfuls until Lily finally decided I had eaten at least most of the jar (or gotten some of it on my bib…not on purpose of course).

James accioed the daily prophet to the table and began reading. As Lily tried to clean me up by smothering a towel across my chin, I caught a glimpse of the date on the prophet. At that moment Lily decided to wipe the towel across my entire face. I dodged to the left to peak at the paper.

"Stay put, Harry!"

'But I need to see this!' I tried to say while pointing at the paper, but of course, my words turned to a weird mixture of shrieks that were nonsense. I almost cringed at how stupid I sounded. I really needed to stop trying to say things.

James set the paper down, and once again the date was blocked from my view. He looked at me, amused.

"I think he wants the paper," Lily said, shaking her head and finally finishing up with cleaning my face.

"I don't know, Lily, it seems to me like he just wants to stare at his amazingly good-looking father," James said.

I looked at Lily to see her reaction. She simply rolled her eyes. She must be used to this.

She left my side and James lifted the paper back up. There was the date: May 1st, 1981. I was only 10 months old. Among other things, I was rather impressed with myself being able to walk at a fairly early age…

With a horrifying clench in my stomach I realized that if this was all real, my parents would be dead in a short six months.

I tried to suppress that awful feeling inside, but my emotions were hard to control. This was getting out of hand. I knew babies cried a lot, but I would never have imagined it to feel this way. I felt the water works coming.

It was so unexpected that James twitched a bit when he heard me first cry out. Lily was immediately by my side.

I spent the next few minutes in Lily's arms, trying to hold back the tears while listening to Lily and James figure out what was wrong. They were both confused, since I obviously wasn't hungry and didn't need to be changed.

If my parents were to die in six months, what would that mean for me? Would I have to relive my life all over again? I didn't think I could live with the Dursley's again. I didn't think I could face Voldemort so many more times all over again!

I clung to Lily, just feeling her warmth and the buzz in her chest as she said words of comfort. I cannot describe how it felt to be comforted by my own mother. It was an experience I had never quite understood. I felt safe with her. But knowing that it may all be taken away from me in six months made the situation worse.

I was torn. I didn't want to relive my life from my baby years to the battle with Voldemort…but I didn't want to wake up in St. Mungos. I didn't want this to be a hallucination or a memory.

I wanted this to be real. I wanted this to last while it could.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you have any suggestions or ideas for this story, I would love to hear them. You can PM your ideas to me, or just mention one in a review. They may not appear in the story, because I am a couple chapters ahead already and Harry is slowly growing up. That isn't to say I can't just insert the idea into my already written chapters, but it may not fit. I love to hear different ideas though. So give it a go if you so please!