Chapter Four

Snape woke up in the middle of the night with a problem.

His bladder was full.

Very full.

So full it hurt to move.

Great.

And he couldn't get out of the drawer.

Double great. He'd just have to hold it.

But after only one minute, it became clear that holding it was just not an option. He needed to go. NOW!

He began to pound on the inside of the drawer, hoping against hope that Potter would wake up. He didn't.

Oh, Merlin! Any minute now he would wither explode or wet himself. He actually hoped it would be the former. Then he would die and wouldn't have to face Potter in the morning.

He whimpered in a very uncharacteristic way and then grit his teeth and sat down on his "bed" trying desperately not to embarrass himself.

Suddenly, the drawer was yanked open from under him, and he flew backward and landed on the "floor" of his little home. A huge, groping hand was thrust in, searching for something. Careful to avoid the wandering fingers, Snape made his way to the edge of the drawer and jumped, trying to get over it. His bladder forgotten in his new predicament, Severus took a flying leapt and gripped the top of the drawer edge, hoisting himself up and onto the top of the little table.

The drawer was slammed shut. Snape fell backward again as the table beneath him shook. The hand was now groping at the top of the table, still searching for something.

"Merlin, where is it?" Snape heard Harry mumble. It occurred to him at that moment that Potter was probably looking for his little bottle of lubricant. He spent a good ten second trying to rid himself of the images that surfaced with that knowledge.

"Potter!" He yelled as loudly as he dared.

He heard Harry sit straight up behind the curtains.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry exclaimed, leaning forward and looking at Snape's tiny form. "I forgot you were there! How'd you get out of the drawer?"

To Harry's credit, he was being very quiet and not hurting Severus' ears, but right then there was something more important that was hurting the little man.

"I need to use the toilet," Snape said matter-of-factly. There really was no use dancing around the issue. Any more wasted time and the worst would happen.

"Oh. Right. Er –"

"Potter, as endearing as your lack of articulation is at the moment, there are more pressing matters to attend to!"

"Right. Hold on, Professor."

Harry gently picked him up again, careful to grab him by the torso and not the abdomen. After a quick glance around to make sure everyone else was still asleep, Harry slunk in to the boy's loo and set his professor down on the rim of the toilet.

"There you go, Professor. Just don't fall in."

There was no time for a reply. Snape undid his trousers and released a tiny stream of urine into the bowl.

"Ah," came the tiny sigh. Harry wouldn't have heard it at all if he hadn't been listening so closely. He began to count the seconds. Seconds turned into minutes, and Harry began to worry.

"Are you all right, Snape?" Harry asked softly.

"No, I'm not all right," was the reply. "I've never gone this long before without taking a leak. So if you'll just leave me to it . . ."

Harry blushed and took a few more steps away from Snape, to give him some privacy. Probably, Harry thought, when Snape had gotten shrunk his bodily systems backed themselves up a bit.

As he waited, his mind turned to the activity he'd been attempting to engage in before Snape fully woke him up. He was still half-hard, but dressed in his robes as he was no one would be able to tell. He thought about having a quick wank right then while no one was around and his back was turned toward Severus, but he knew no matter how quiet he tried to be, Snape would hear. He would know. Suddenly Harry wasn't hard anymore.

"All right. I'm done, Potter."

Harry turned around, careful not to look Snape in the face, and scooped him up. He poked his head out of the bathroom to make sure his fellow Gryffindor were asleep. They were – and snoring quite loudly, too. Harry very nearly sprinted back to his bed and deposited SNpae I nthe drawer again.

"Potter, I'm going to need something – you know – to use when you're in classes. Something you can empty when you get back."

"Right," Harry muttered. "Will a toothpaste cap work?"

"So long as you wash it out, yes. It will."

"I'll be right back."

So Snape was set up with a "chamber pot" of sorts. It would be gross, Harry thought, but it was better than him soiling his clothes. Speaking of clothes . . .

"You don't have any extra clothes, do you?"

"Potter, do I look like I have any extra clothes?"

"Right. I'll talk to the headmaster about getting you some. Maybe we can shrink down some of your stuff."

"I do hope so."

"Will you be okay for the rest of the night, Professor?"

"I do believe so. But leave the drawer cracked open, just in case."

Harry did so. "I'll see about making some kind of ladder or something that you can climb up to get out during the day."

There was no response from the dark drawer, so Harry laid down in his own bed, still not bothering to undress, and tried to go to sleep.

Though he was still not happy about having to care for everyone's least favourite professor, Harry did have to admit that this was a very unique situation. There'd been this film once, that Dudley had watched, where a little boy had a magic cupboard that brought plastic things to life. Of course, when Vernon had found out that it was about magic, he quickly turned it off. But the idea had always thrilled Harry. To care for a little person and make them little things . . . it would be so neat. And now he finally got a chance.

He had his own tiny Snape. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.