Disclaimer: I do not own the characters contained herein. The plot, however, is all mine. No money is being made from the writing of this Fan fiction. I wrote purely for your, and my, entertainment.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter of this fic. It really means a lot to mean. Thanks also to SeparatriX for taking the time to beta read for me. She makes it more bearable for all of you. Now, on with the tale!
Chapter Two
Pansy and the Problem Potion.
Draco wasn't feeling very confident about this being summoned business. In fact, he knew no good could come of this meeting. What right did Dumbledore have to summon him anywhere? Draco grumbled, conveniently forgetting that the old man was headmaster of Hogwarts. Moreover, to make matters worse, his brilliant plan to get Harry to see the 'real him', as it were, was not going off quite as he'd planned. The ultimate revenge with a bit of a perk for him. It couldn't have been simpler… except he hadn't been able to get near Harry since breakfast the previous day. Damn. And one more thing: What the hell kind of password is 'Fizzing Whizbee' anyway? Dumbledore was most definitely off his rocker.
Draco was dragging his feet, and he knew it, he just couldn't seem to help himself. Dumbledore's office was looming before him like the hungry maw of some unspeakable beast, and Draco really didn't want to know what was on the inside. He had no choice in the matter, however, so with a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
"Come in, Mr. Malfoy!" Dumbledore called cheerily from the other side of the door.
Draco scowled disdainfully at the heavy wood before opening the damnable thing, only to stop short on the threshold. Dumbledore might have mentioned that half the bloody school would be sitting in at this meeting.
"Ah, Draco, right on time," the barmy old codger said pleasantly, gesturing toward a seat next to, of all people, Hermione 'Know-It-All' Granger. He might have known that she'd be the one to implicate him in this mess. With hindsight, perhaps he hadn't thought his plan out very well after all.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Draco said politely, parking himself in the indicated chair, doing his best not to roll his eyes at Granger's huff. When would the little chit learn that Malfoys never admit to anything? He'd be damned if he'd take the blame for the adorable little boy sitting in her lap, even if he did put the potion in Potter's porridge. Speaking of… said adorable boy was staring at him intently. Draco found himself wondering if Potter was a telepath briefly before dismissing the idea as preposterous. Talk about paranoia. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in that irritating way that they do. Draco wondered if it wasn't some kind of spell. "I'm sure you're aware of the happenings from yesterday morning?"
Draco bowed his head to show he knew what the old man was talking about.
"Very good. Now, I've had Professor Snape," the man in question sneered unpleasantly, "looking over young Harry's breakfast, and I'm pleased to say we now know the potion that was used."
"Forgive me, sir, but what does this have to do with me?" Draco knew he was all innocence and confusion. At least his father had taught him something useful. Granger snorted derisively next to him.
"As you are well aware, Mr. Malfoy," Snape groused from his darkened corner, "with enough information it is possible to tell who brewed a potion. I know the magical signature of every student in this school."
'Well, I'm well and truly fucked now,' Draco thought. He hadn't counted on that little fact. It had completely slipped his mind, in fact. "Sir?" he asked, trying to keep his composure.
"May I ask why you felt the need to turn Harry into a five-year-old child?" McGonagall questioned from the opposite side of the room. Draco felt as though he was surrounded by hungry predators.
He decided to give up his innocent act. They already knew he did it. They had proof, damn it all! "It was a joke," he said. "You know, funny, ha ha?"
Granger couldn't seem to control herself any longer. "A joke?" she exploded, albeit quietly to keep from frightening Harry. "You think it's funny to make him relive his entire childhood, do you?"
Draco was completely confused by that statement. "What?" he yelped, jumping from his seat and moving away from the wretch. "What are you talking about?"
Granger glared at him dangerously, those abominable wheels in her head turning. "You have no idea what potion you used, do you?" she asked in a very low and dangerous tone. In his dark corner, Snape snorted inelegantly.
"Of course I do!" Draco retorted indignantly. "I'm not a bloody Hufflepuff, am I!"
"If everyone would please calm down," Dumbledore said firmly from his seat behind his desk. His eyes hadn't stopped twinkling once in this entire conversation. Once Draco was again seated next to the 'insufferable know-it-all', Dumbledore asked, "What potion did you use, Draco?"
"It was a temporary de-aging potion, to make Potter here a five-year-old for two days time," Draco replied, throwing a look in Granger's direction that said 'I told you', and not caring at all how childish that might seem. He was about to make a scathing remark regarding her intelligence when he was startled into silence by a child crawling into his lap. Much to his amusement, everyone else seemed just as surprised as he was. He held his arms away from him as though afraid of being maimed.
"What's your name?" mini-Potter asked, once he'd made himself comfortable on Draco's lap. The damnable headmaster had the audacity to look amused.
"Draco," Draco replied through his shock.
Mini-Potter giggled, his nose scrunching up in the cutest fashion. "I like you," he announced.
"Oh goody," Draco drawled, pulling another giggle from the little imp.
"Where did you get the recipe for this potion?" Snape asked suddenly. Draco looked towards him.
"I will not rat out my informant," he said, managing to keep a straight face. Pansy had obviously fucked up, if Snape's expression was anything to go by.
"Perhaps you should consider it," Snape said, his voice soft or, as any other person would call it, dangerously low. "Your… informant managed to procure the wrong recipe for you."
"W-w-wrong recip-pe?" Draco stammered, not even noticing when mini-Potter started playing with the silver fastenings on his robes.
"Indeed," Snape practically purred. Draco began to seriously fear for his life. "The potion you fed to Potter was not, as you believed, a temporary de-aging potion, but a permanent de-aging potion, for which there is no known antidote."
"This is pretty," mini-Potter chose this moment to say. Everyone chuckled. Everyone, that is, except for Draco, who had gone astonishingly pale, and Snape, whose eyes were narrowed dangerously.
"P-p-permane-nent?" Draco stuttered. He looked at the child in his lap, who seemed to be trying to memorise the shape of the fastenings. Draco realised that he was still holding his arms out like an idiot, and so placed them on the arms of the chair instead, still steadfastly refusing to touch mini-Potter.
"Yes, Draco, permanent," Snape replied silkily, only adding to Draco's dread.
Draco gulped. "Erm… oops?" he said intelligently. Next to him, Granger snorted her disgust. Oh, he was going to kill Pansy when he next saw her! Assuming, of course, that he survived through this little meeting. Between Granger and Snape, he wasn't sure which way his death was coming. So much for his oh so brilliant plan. "So… er… now what?"
"Now what, indeed, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore agreed, a little too happily, in Draco's opinion. "His relatives have made it abundantly clear that they do not wish him back after this year. It seems we have a dilemma."
Harry's tiny hands stilled at the mention of his relatives. He turned large, almost frightened eyes up to Draco before turning to Dumbledore. "Pr'fessor?" he said timidly.
Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. "Yes, Harry?" he asked.
"Are you sending me back to Auntie 'Tunia?" Harry asked.
"No, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "We're going to find someone else to take care of you." For some reason, Dumbledore looked significantly into Draco's eyes, giving Draco a decidedly unpleasant feeling in his stomach.
"'Kay," Harry agreed, going back to his inspection of Draco's fastenings.
"I suppose you've found someone to take him in then?" Draco asked hopefully.
"Indeed we have, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, giving Draco the impression that this had all been decided before he'd even been summoned up here.
He gulped. "Oh. Well that's good then. Who is it?" He tried to keep the dread from his voice, and almost succeeded. Almost.
"You," Snape replied from his corner. McGonagall sniffed indignantly, as though she thought this extremely unwise. Draco agreed with her.
"Me?" His eyes darted wildly from Dumbledore, to McGonagall, and finally Snape, who gave him a derogatory look.
"Yes, you. As you are the one who decided to turn Potter into this… adorable little child, it is only reasonable that you care for him until he can be restored to his original age." Only Snape could make the word 'adorable' sound like a disgusting swear word. Draco had heard people say 'fuck' with more reverence.
"You can restore him, then?" Draco asked, allowing hope to flare anew.
"Professor Snape has agreed to attempt to create a counter for this potion," Dumbledore replied. Two words stood out in that sentence, attempt being the most ominous, and create being the most obvious. Never in Draco's life had anything blown up in his face so spectacularly. "As this could take quite some time, we need a binding oath from you that you will care for Harry until such time as his age can be restored, taking into to consideration that this may stretch beyond the end of the school year."
Draco swallowed. That didn't seem to work, so he swallowed again. After a third attempt, he said, "Yes, sir." It seemed that he'd just been forced into being the 'dad' of a boy he'd wanted to date. Fat chance of that happening now, he thought bitterly. Even if they restored Potter quickly, he'd most likely be cursing the day he'd ever met Draco Malfoy.
Dumbledore seemed rather surprised at his easy acceptance of this ultimatum, but Draco was never one to run away from the consequences of his actions. Certainly, he might twist them around to better suit his needs (case in point, the hippogriff incident in third year), but he didn't run away from them. He could see no way out of this mess.
"Well, that's settled then," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands merrily. "Harry will have to go to your classes with you, so I suggest you find a few items with which he might amuse himself while you study. Off you go!"
Everyone got up to leave. Everyone that is, except for Draco, who was still pinned by a very curious child.
"Harry is our friend, Malfoy," Granger said sharply, standing to loom over him like some eerie fortress of death. "Ron and I have a right to visit with him. If you-"
"I'm not going to stop him visiting with you, Granger," Draco interrupted smoothly without looking at her. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to get Harry off his lap without touching him.
"Good," Granger snapped. She lifted Harry up and kissed his cheek. "Be good," she said in a decidedly friendlier tone of voice. "Ron and I will see you soon, okay?"
"'Kay," Harry agreed readily. He seemed to be soaking up all of this attention. Draco snorted. Typical.
He decided to stand before Granger decided to deposit the imp back in his lap. She set Potter on the floor. He immediately grabbed Draco's hand and refused to let it go. Draco grimaced. Not for the first time today, Draco wondered just what in the seven circles of hell he'd been thinking when he came up with this little plan.
IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNBHarry didn't like it when people shouted at each other, mostly because it was usually him they were shouting at, and in the end he was always locked in his cupboard. With this in mind, he carefully stayed out of the way as Draco shouted at the yellow haired girl he'd called 'Pansy'. Harry didn't know why Draco would call her that. He'd never seen anything that looked less like a pansy.
"Did you even look at the bloody potion before you copied it out!" Draco shouted at the girl, who seemed to be cowering away from him in fright.
"The de-aging potion," Pansy muttered. "I read it all through, just like you said to."
"You ignorant twat! I said temporary de-aging potion! Temporary, not bloody permanent! He could be stuck like this forever because of you!"
Harry wondered what 'twat' meant, but didn't think he should ask just then. Pansy started to cry.
"I'm sorry!" she said. "You shouldn't have had me do it! You know I'm hopeless in Potions!"
"I bloody well figured you could read!" Draco turned away from her. "Come on, Harry!" he snapped.
Harry was at his side in an instant, afraid of making him madder. He liked Draco better when he wasn't mad. He decided that being quiet was his best way of avoiding punishment. They went down a few stairs before coming to a stop in front of a door, which Draco stared at for a minute before opening. Inside was a big room, with a big bed on one side and a smaller bed on the other. There were a few tables and things around as well, but Harry didn't pay much attention to those. His eyes caught sight of the toys next to the little bed and stayed there. He wondered if there were any other little boys around.
"Figures," Draco muttered, stomping into the room and slamming the door behind him. "Special accommodations for everyone's favorite saviour."
Harry had no idea what that meant, but decided not to ask. Draco still seemed quite angry to him. "Draco?" he said tentatively.
"What?" Draco snapped.
Harry backed away, tears coming into his eyes, in spite of his attempts to stop them. He said nothing.
Draco heaved a sigh and ran his hand over his face. "I'm sorry," he said, more gently. "Come here, I'm not mad at you."
Harry slowly crossed to Draco, who was sitting on the big bed, and took the offered hand. Draco pulled Harry up into his lap.
"Why you so mad, Draco?" Harry asked.
"She made a bad mistake, Harry," Draco replied. "I'm not mad at you, I promise."
Harry nodded. He looked around the room and pointed at a large wardrobe. "Is that where I sleep?"
Draco stared at him, then he stared at the wardrobe, and then he stared at him some more. "Why would you sleep in there?" he asked.
Harry was confused. It looked kind of like his cupboard at Uncle Vernon's house. "It looks like my cupboard," he said, his brow furrowed. "I bet I could fit." He wriggled off Draco's lap and made his way over, opening the wardrobe with difficulty. He lay down on the floor. "See?" he said, stretching his arms out to show how well he fit.
Draco came over and lifted Harry back out of the wardrobe, closing the door with a frown on his face. "You sleep in a cupboard?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"Why?" Draco asked, sitting back down on the big bed.
"There's no room for me," Harry replied.
"No room?"
Harry shook his head. "Auntie 'Tunia and Uncle Vernon have the big room, and Dudders has the next one and the next one if for Dudders' things, 'cause they don't fit in his first room, and the last one is for Auntie Marge when she comes over."
Draco was staring at him again. Harry lowered his eyes. He didn't like to be stared at.
"Who is Dudders?" Draco asked.
"My cousin," Harry replied, scrunching his nose up in distaste. "He picks on me."
Draco was still staring at him. "You don't have to sleep in a cupboard here," he said after a long time.
Harry didn't know what to say, and so said nothing.
"That bed there is for you," Draco went on, pointing at the small bed. It was much bigger than the cupboard under the stairs.
"Really?" Harry asked.
Draco nodded. "And it's about time we both went to sleep."
"I'm not tired," Harry said, yawning right after.
Draco smiled at him. "Of course you're not. Unfortunately, young boys need their rest to grow big and strong."
Harry scrunched up his nose. "What's 'unfortanaly'?" he asked.
Draco smiled again. "Un-for-tu-net-ly," he said slowly. "It means that it's not something you want, but it has to happen anyway."
"Oh," Harry said, thinking about it. He decided he liked that word. "Un-for-tu-net-ly," he pronounced carefully.
"Very good," Draco praised.
Harry felt a swell of pride in his chest and he beamed. No one'd ever said that to him before.
Draco picked him up and walked to a door, opening it to peek inside. It was the biggest bathroom Harry had ever seen. "Right," Draco said. "Brush your teeth." He handed Harry a blue toothbrush with the same creature on it that was on Draco's shiny buttons. He placed Harry on the floor.
"Draco?" he asked.
Draco looked down at him. "Yes?"
"What's this?" Harry asked, pointing at the animal.
Draco quirked an eyebrow at him, looking a bit surprised. "That's a dragon," he said.
"Oh," Harry replied, looking down at it. He liked it. It was cool. "How come you got 'em on your shirt?"
"These are robes, Harry," Draco corrected. "My name is Latin for dragon."
"What's 'Latin'?"
"It's another language."
"Oh."
Draco bent and applied toothpaste to Harry's brush.
"Draco?"
"No more questions right now, Harry," Draco said. "Brush your teeth."
"'Kay," Harry said, placing the brush in his mouth and beginning to scrub. After they'd both finished, Draco led Harry back into the bedroom. "Draco?"
"Yes?"
"How come your name isn't just dragon instead?"
"Draco is more impressive." Draco pulled back the covers on the small bed and tucked Harry in.
"What's 'impressive'?"
Draco sighed before sitting on the edge of the bed. "It means that people like it better."
"Oh."
"Goodnight, Harry," Draco said, kissing his forehead. He waved his stick (wand, Harry reminded himself) and the lights went out.
"'Night, Draco," Harry said, his eyes already closing.
Harry could hear people screaming. There was a lady, and she sounded scared. After that, someone was laughing, but it wasn't a nice laugh. It made Harry want to cry. Then there was a bright green light…
Harry sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding. He was breathing hard, so he tried to stop before he woke up Draco. Auntie 'Tunia always got mad at him if he screamed after a bad dream. He didn't want Draco to be mad at him. He liked Draco. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, sure that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.
His eyes went around the room, taking everything in that he could see. A lot of it was fuzzy, but that was nothing new. He never could see things clearly. His eyes snapped to the big bed when he heard Draco groan. Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes.
IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNBDraco sat rubbing his eyes for a long moment, wondering what had woken him up. He looked around the room and saw Harry sitting up in bed, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Harry?" he asked delicately.
"I'm sorry," Harry said at once.
Draco frowned. "What for?"
"I didn't mean to wake you up. I'll go back to sleep now, I promise."
Draco's frown deepened and he stared intently at Harry. There was something going on here that he was missing, or perhaps, had been missing but was seeing now very clearly. "Did you have a bad dream?" he asked in the gentlest voice he could muster. It was somewhat difficult, however, as a picture was beginning to form in his mind. This picture was of terrible, scaly, horned beasts with massive claws and sharp fangs that were drooling over the prospect of Harry suffering. It was the picture Draco's mind conjured whenever he thought of Harry's relatives. Outwardly, he noticed that Harry was nodding reluctantly. "Come here, then," Draco said.
Harry swallowed nervously but obeyed without question. He crawled up into Draco's bed and then sat with his back facing Draco, removing his pajama top with tiny, shaking fingers.
Draco scowled, well aware of what this meant. However, he still asked, "What are you doing?"
Harry's shoulders were tense and his head was lowered. Draco studied the small, pale back before him. He was infuriated when he saw that, not only was Harry's spine clearly visible underneath his skin, but his ribs were as well. Fortunately, (more for Harry's relatives than anyone else) there was no visible scarring that Draco could see.
"I tried to be quiet," Harry murmured, and his voice sounded suspiciously strained.
Draco touched Harry's shoulder gently, and forced himself not to pull away when the little boy flinched violently at that. He turned Harry around and, with a deep sigh at the sight of Harry tears, pulled him close. Harry began sobbing violently as soon as Draco's arms closed around him.
"I'm sorry!" he cried, clutching Draco's nightshirt in his small fists. "I didn't mean it!"
"Hush now," Draco cooed gently, rubbing comforting circles on the child's back. "It's all right. I'm not angry."
Draco kept this up until Harry's tears slowed and then stopped. Harry leaned back to look at him. "You're not mad at me?" he asked, his eyes wide and amazed, if somewhat unfocused.
Draco shook his head, gently pushing Harry's hair away from his face. "Why would I be mad?" he asked.
Harry lowered his face. "Auntie 'Tunia doesn't like it when I wake her up," he whispered.
Draco frowned again thoughtfully. Surely Harry's beast of an aunt wouldn't punish the boy for having bad dreams? "Well, I'm not Auntie 'Tunia," he said.
"How come you want me up here, then?" Harry asked, snuggling close to Draco's body and tucking his legs up under him.
"So you don't have to sleep by yourself," Draco replied. "You can stay right here, and I'll keep those dreams away."
Harry looked up at him again. "I can sleep up here with you?"
Draco nodded. "Of course you can. Everyone has bad dreams. Sometimes it helps to have someone to tell them to."
Harry began trembling slightly. "There was a lot of screaming," he said. "There was this lady, and she sounded scared, and then someone laughed, but it made me feel scared instead of happy and then there was all this green light…" He trailed off.
Draco's blood ran cold has he listened to Harry describe what little his child's mind had retained of his mother's last moments on Earth. He swallowed. "You want me to read you a bedtime story?" he asked.
"Bedtime story?" Harry repeated blankly.
"I'll show you," Draco replied. He pulled his wand from under his pillow, pointing it toward the bookcase. "Accio story book!" A thin book came flying off the shelf and into his hand.
Harry clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Do it again!" he cried happily.
Draco smiled indulgently. "There will be plenty of magic for you to see tomorrow," he said. He arranged them so that they were both comfortable and began reading. "Under the hedge by a big green field stood a tiny shop called: 'Edwin Beetle & Son, jewelers.' " He finished most of the story before he realised that Harry had dozed off. He knew that he wouldn't be falling asleep so easily, his mind far too troubled by what he'd learned since bringing Harry here to be able to shut down and rest.
Note: The line of bedtime story is from The Royal Jewelers in Shirley Barber's Fairy Collection.