Regarding Harry

By Tsujton

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling et al. I make no profit (story of my life…).

Summary: Harry destroys the last Horcrux and defeats Voldemort – but in doing so, winds up back where he started the night he got his scar: with the mind of a fifteen month old. But the Death Eaters are out for revenge… Big baby!Harry, slightly slashy. Some abuse and violence, so rated: M

Chapter 13: Harry's Second Chance

"No! My no yike dat." For perhaps the twentieth time, Harry pushed the spoon away. Ron Weasley was at the end of his rope. He'd been trying to get Harry to eat his dinner for the better part of an hour to no avail. Harry, even in his infantile incarnation, proved to be as stubborn as ever.

Now that he was gaining a bit more strength, Harry was no longer fed in bed. However, reveling in his newfound freedom, he absolutely refused to stay at the table and eat. It had been necessary to seat Harry in an oversized highchair of sorts, complete with safety harness and removable tray. At first, Harry had railed against this, but Madam Pomfrey held firm and waited his tantrums out. On the first day, Harry had cried himself into exhaustion at each meal and Pomfrey had ended up bottle-feeding him in the chair (and Scourgifying the many bowls of mush Harry had flung away). On the second day, once Harry was seated for breakfast and was wriggling unhappily making ready to commence his tantrum, Pomfrey pressed the tip of her wand to her neck and uttered, "Sonorous." Then in a stern, booming voice she addressed Harry.

"Harry James Potter, you will stop this at once! I'm sorry you don't like it, but it is time to eat your breakfast. Now stop your fussing and cooperate." It had the desired effect. Harry was quite startled and stopped squirming immediately, staring at Madam Pomfrey owlishly. Pomfrey cast, "Quietus," and continued kindly, "After breakfast, if you're a good boy, you can go visit Hagrid. I believe he has some new animals to show you."

At this, Harry tilted his head in thought, bit his lower lip and blinked at the Nurse several times. Then he let out his breath, sat back in his chair and opened his mouth obediently. After that, Harry was very well behaved with Madam Pomfrey. But dinner with Ron was a different story all together. It was as if Harry could smell the lack of authority on him.

"Come on, Harry. Please? You've got to eat this. It's good for you and it's, it's really delicious." Harry did not appear at all convinced. Ron tried unsuccessfully again to deliver a spoonful of food but Harry refused. Earlier in the battle, Ron had taken a mouthful of the mashed potatoes and strained beets to show Harry just how good they were, but he couldn't stop himself from pulling a face. To say they were bland was the beginning of an understatement, and there was a hint of vitamins in them as well. Madam Pomfrey fortified all of Harry's food and drinks, as it was nearly impossible to get him to take potions. She had also had to curtail his sugar intake. Harry had a raging sweet tooth and once he got a treat he whinged and wailed for more. It was never enough and made him quite cranky besides.

Ron knew all of this but was feeling quite desperate by this point. "Harry, if you eat this, I'll get Dobby to bring you treacle for pudding." Although he feared Madam Pomfrey's wrath over breaking the 'no sweets at night' rule, Ron feared more what the Nurse would have to say if she came back and Harry hadn't eaten his dinner.

Harry pursed his lips together, his eyes flitting from the mush-filled spoon to Ron's earnest face. Then he glared at Ron and opened his mouth. Ron began to feed him silently; afraid anything he might say would cause Harry to change his mind. By the third bite though, Harry had stopped his scowling and let his eyes wander absently. He watched an owl fly by the window out in the twilit sky. Soon he'd emptied the bowl and looked expectantly at Ron.

"Teacle?"

"Yeah, mate. Dobby? Could you bring up a small bit o'treacle for Harry's pudding?" Ron called to the air. A moment later, the house-elf appeared with a 'pop', promised treat in hand.

"Dobby teacle!" exclaimed Harry, banging his hands on his tray and kicking his legs out in excitement. "Mmm!"

"Yeah, Harry. Dobby treacle," said Ron, doing his best to encourage that association. If Harry said anything to Madam Pomfrey about the treat, Ron might just get off the hook. He said it again for good measure, "Dobby treacle. Say, Dobby? Why don't you feed that to Harry?"

"Dobby, sir? Feed Harry Potter? It would be an honour!" The little house-elf's impossibly huge eyes grew even larger as he vanished the empty dinner bowl away and placed the pudding in front of Harry. Harry made humming sounds of contentment with each sweet mouthful and made short work of finishing the treacle. Yet it still didn't seem fast enough to Ron. He was petrified of Madam Pomfrey coming back to find this transgression. Ron breathed an audible sigh of relief when Harry swallowed his last mouthful of the pudding. He grabbed the bowl from Harry's tray, and shoved it at Dobby.

"Thanks, Dobby. You can go now. Bye."

Dobby was a bit surprised (and not at all pleased) at being dismissed so perfunctorily. "Wouldn't Harry Potter like more," he asked slyly.

Harry's face lit up and Ron slapped his hand to his forehead. "No Dobby. No more. Please, just go!"

"Very well Master Weasley. Goodbye Harry Potter, sir." And with another 'pop', he was gone.

As quickly as Harry's face had lit up it fell. "Moh teacle?" he asked, his brow furrowing and his hands balling up into fists.

"Erm, uh, all right there, Harry, all done eating! Time to get ready for bed." But just as Ron feared, Harry had other ideas.

Harry banged his fist on his tray, pleading, "Moh teacle, Non-Non. Peeease? My yike teacle."

Ron could feel the panic rising in his chest in the face of one of Harry's full-blown tantrums. He quickly removed the tray from Harry's chair and unfastened the safety harness, but Harry made no move to get down. Then Ron had a sudden flash of inspiration.

"Tell you what, Harry, how about if we play 'Catch the Snitch' a bit before bed?" This suggestion had the desired effect and Harry slid down off the chair and crawled toward the door. "No, Harry. It's too late to go outside, we'd better play in here," Ron said, suddenly realizing the inherent flaw in this strategy. Chess against Shacklebolt is easier than this, he thought grimly. But before he had time to worry further about the havoc they might wreak playing Quidditch inside, the door opened and in walked Madam Pomfrey.

"Pomfee!" cried Harry happily. "My doe pay sitch now!"

Ron froze and gritted his teeth together, awaiting the Nurse's explosion.

"Mr. Weasley," she began evenly, "Do I understand Harry correctly? That he is expecting to play with a snitch at this late hour?" Her gaze was steely and Ron swallowed nervously before he could find his voice.

"Erm, well I – he wouldn't – I mean, I couldn't get him out of the chair. So I thought…maybe just a quick game?" he finished meekly.

Harry watched this exchange with interest. Sensing that his fun was in danger of being cancelled, Harry prepared himself to dig his heels in. He needn't have bothered.

To everyone's surprise – even her own ­ Pomfrey acquiesced. "Very well. But just for a short time, mind – and play in the hallway. I don't want my belongings smashed by two gangly boys. Go!" she added, when Ron continued to stare at her, dumbstruck.

Pomfrey watched with sadness as the two went out the door. Harry crawling and Ron walking after. She imagined it must be very painful for Ronald Weasley to loose his best friend this way. She was very impressed – though not at all surprised – by his fierce loyalty and devotion to Harry. Even though Ronald was, to put it mildly, inept at disciplining his once best mate (the tell-tale treacle had been evident around Harry's mouth), he had the best of intentions at heart. More than ever, Pomfrey truly appreciated how well the 'old' Harry had chosen his friends. He had a trio of constant visitors in Ron, Hermione and Ginevra.

As the door closed behind the boys, Pomfrey sank into a chair and sighed. She looked around her once-tiny quarters and marveled at the many changes her life had seen in recent weeks. Upon returning from the custody hearing at the Ministry of Magic, Pomfrey had found that Hogwarts, in its own inimitable way, had expanded her home to suit the needs of her new charge. Her dining and living areas had doubled in size and a nursery had been added off of her bedroom, complete with a play area, baby toys and an over-sized crib-like bed for Harry.

I never thought I'd raise another, she mused. A lifetime ago Pomfrey had born and raised two children of her own, a girl and a boy. Abruptly she laughed aloud to think of how silly she had been to worry about what her grown children would have to say about her current situation. They had, in fact, been quite supportive in their owls from their homes in New Zealand and America, but she was still sort of glad they were too far to pop in and see her like this. Pomfrey shook her head. She had work to do. She had been given a great responsibility. It was an honour and a privilege to be named caregiver to Harry. Pomfrey still couldn't believe it was true, after so much had gone so very wrong in the world, that this, most important thing, had gone right. Harry Potter was being given a second chance at a happy life. He deserved no less for the self-sacrifice he made to save the wizarding world.

Pomfrey sighed at the thought at how much Harry had suffered in his short life; first with the loss of his parents, then at the hands of his vile relatives. And when he was finally freed from their abuse and neglect, he found himself under the heaviest burden imaginable: a Prophecy foretelling that he must stand against the greatest evil in the world in order to save everyone and everything in it. Still worse, it was 'kill or be killed', and this poor, long-suffering orphan, rather than sinking to the depths of despair, rose to the challenge with bravery and determination. And what price did he pay? thought Pomfrey bitterly. To be incapacitated. Harry Potter had, in mind only, returned to infancy, only to be attacked once again – this time by the miscreant, Lucius Malfoy.

And then, even those supposedly on the side of the light – such as that blasted, arrogant blowhard, Rufus Scrimgeour – had traumatized Harry. But at least, the Minister had been stopped. Pomfrey had not been permitted to enter the courtroom with Harry, as petitioners for guardianship were not allowed to be present during his interview. But Rose Chang had been assigned to attend Harry, and thus she had been in the courtroom when he arrived. She had filled Pomfrey in on what had transpired before the Hogwarts' Nurse was summoned to take the stand. It broke Pomfrey's heart to think of it again. She wished she could Obliviate those events from Harry's memory – ethics be damned – but with the damage his brain had already sustained, it was far too risky.

The last she remembered of Harry before Scrimgeour had taken him away was the outline of his hands scrabbling at the duvet covering his head and his desperately calling her name.

Two Weeks Prior

Dark! "Hm? Hmmm!" Harry was sucking his thumb and pushing with his other hand at the sheet over his head. It wasn't coming off and he began to panic. "Uh! Uuuuhhh! Pomfee? Pomfee!" Soon he was frantically hitting, punching and scratching at the covers with both hands trying to get free, but his attempts were all in vain. His arms tired quickly and dropped in exhaustion. He began to cry desperately, "M-Mumma, Mummaaa…"

"Minister Scrimgeour, what is the meaning of this?" demanded Tiberius Ogden, the magistrate sitting at the center in a row of five judges. "Release him at once!"

"Tiberious," began Scrimgeour in a placating tone, "surely you have read the report on Mr. Potter's uncontrolled magic? I'm simply trying to protect the integrity of this court and the boy's best interests. Your Honours must remain shielded from his gaze in order to render an objective decision."

Tiberius Ogden was known as the Wizengamut's foremost proponent of children's rights. In fact, when the previous Minister, Cornelius Fudge, had authorized decrees designed to wrest Albus Dumbledore's authority at Hogwarts, Ogden had resigned his post in protest. Like many of his colleagues, Ogden was reinstated once Rufus Scrimgeour took office. Naturally, when the Wizengamut had determined there was a need for a separate specialized judicial body to handle the large number of war orphans, they had unanimously elected Ogden to sit on the bench with four other judges. If the new Minister thought he could curry favours from Ogden for his reinstatement, he was very much mistaken; Ogden was a strictly 'by-the-scroll' wizard. It was his job to lead the court, present law, question the children and potential guardians (his skill as a Legilimens was invaluable in these endeavours), make recommendations and break tied decisions when necessary. Ogden had always found that the placement of orphaned muggleborns and squibs was a particularly delicate and difficult matter, but this paled in comparison to the weighty task of determining the guardianship of Harry Potter.

"You have no authority in this court, Minister Scrimgeour," began Ogden, enunciating Scrimgeour's title meaningfully. "'Finite' that 'Incantatum' posthaste or you will find yourself in contempt."

Scrimgeour's face reddened. He clenched his jaw and folded his arms defiantly over his broad chest. He knew he had just blown any chance of getting custody of The Boy Who Lived – which would have been politically advantageous, to say the least. But he would be damned if he let some newly appointed child welfare magistrate defy his position. "My authority, your 'Honour', is not the question here. I have a sworn duty to protect the witches and wizards of Great Britain. Their greatest hero since Albus Dumbledore needs my protection more than ever. If –"

"Oh for th'sake a' Morgana –" cut in Healer Chang, and she conjured four free-standing hospital screens around Harry's stretcher. "Please Your Honour, he's frightened near to hysteria. Let me administer a calming draught."

"You are…Healer Rose Chang of St. Mungo's Sensing Division?" Ogden asked, checking a parchment in front of him for reference.

"Yes, Your Honour. I was the Healer called by Madam Pomfrey to attend Harry Potter when he first returned to Hogwarts – so I've already been 'exposed'," Chang finished with a glare towards Scrimgeour.

"Ah, yes. That is indeed why you were chosen to tend to Mr. Potter during these proceedings. I think it best to let you do your job, then. Thank you, Healer Chang," He smiled warmly at her and turned to Scrimgeour. "Minister, if you have no further objections? This is a closed session. Your presence as a petitioner is not permitted at this juncture. You will be summoned to testify in due time."

"Finite Incantatum." Scrimgeour growled his spell as he spun on his heel and exited the courtroom.

"Please proceed, Healer Chang," Ogden ordered. Chang noted that he was shaking slightly from his encounter with Britain's most powerful official. She was grateful to see that he would not put up with any posturing – even from the Minister of Magic himself. It boded well for Harry. Chang grabbed her potions bag and slipped between the screens to Harry's side. She peeled back the now unresisting duvet to reveal Harry, shaking, his face red and wet with tears and his hair plastered down with sweat. In his hands he clutched a black cloth, fists held protectively in front of his scar. His eyes – those 'feared magically rampant' green orbs – darted around wildly.

"Puh-puh…Pom-fee," he managed to gasp out before dissolving into sobs.

"It's alrigh', Harry," whispered the Healer. "I'm not gon'ta hurt you. No one is gon'ta hurt you ani'more," and Chang looked over the top of the screen up to the judge's bench, her lips pressed together in determination. When she returned her gaze to Harry, her features softened. "Remember me, Harry? I'm Madam Pomfrey's friend, Rose," she said kindly as she gently placed a hand over Harry's clenched fists. His sobs had subsided and he was breathing erratically through his nose, but he shed new tears at the mention of Pomfrey. Still, he allowed the Healer to lower his shaking hands.

Next, Chang took a baby bottle from her bag and poured a small amount of the calming draught into it. She added some sweetener and closed the bottle, swirling the contents together before holding it out to Harry.

Pom-fee, where? Harry looked around, he could see white screens and the dark domed ceiling high above him, and there was a familiar woman standing over him, smiling. She held a bottle to him. He kept his lips pressed together, but when the smiling woman began to stroke his cheek Harry lost his resolve and eagerly took the nipple into his mouth.

The potion took effect immediately; Harry's breathing slowed and his eyelids drooped. He stopped sucking and just watched Chang through glassy eyes. She stroked his cheek again to get him to drink more and he did. The Healer had to do this several more times to get him to finish the potion. When it was done, Harry's breathing was calm and even. As the judge next spoke, Harry's eyes traveled lazily in the direction of the new voice.

"Healer Chang, may we proceed?"

"Yes, Your Honour. Thank You."

Ogden began the session by using Legilimency on Harry from just outside the screens to find memories of Harry's experiences with each of the petitioners. It had been somewhat unpleasant at times, but not so on the whole. Harry seemed more fatigued rather than anything else by the invasion into his mind.

When he had finished, the judge told Harry, "All done now, Harry. You can go with Rose now and have a rest." Harry's lower lip trembled slightly as Ogden reached between the screens to give Harry a light pat on the arm.

Harry sniffed and clung to his covers, whispering, "Pomfee?" as he was floated away. Then Ogden dismissed Chang and sent her and Harry to wait in the private nursery, while he and the other judges went into the Pensieve Chamber to review the evidence.

When the judges were ready for them, the bailiff had come to fetch Madam Pomfrey, Rufus Scrimgeour, Nymphadora Tonks, Augusta Longbottom and their numerous character witnesses into the courtroom. Once everyone was seated, Ogden continued the session.

"It is the sacred duty of this court to protect underage and incapacitated witches and wizards. Ladies and gentlemen," he next addressed the other judges seated on either side of him. "As we hear from the four qualifying petitioners for the legal guardianship of Harry Potter, I urge you not to think of this child as 'The Boy Who Lived and Vanquished the Dark Lord'. Rather, keep in the forefront of your minds that the decision we make today will seal the fate of a ward of the court. An innocent boy whose future rests entirely in our hands…"

What followed was a series of interviews with the petitioners and their character witnesses. Madam Pomfrey was the first one summoned. She calmly answered the questions from Ogden for the better part of an hour. Then he asked something completely unexpected.

"Madam Pomfrey, could you explain to the court why you did not submit your petition for custody until the last allowable day? Did you – and do you now – have reservations about your ability to undertake the long-term care of Mr. Potter?"

"I have none whatsoever!" She began. "I simply believed that – under the current administration – someone in my position would have little chance of being appointed guardian to Harry." The usually stoic Nurse had to pause and clear her throat as her emotions threatened to derail her. "But I realized I had to at least try."

"What do you say to the charge that as you have been repeatedly exposed to Mr. Potter's incidental magic, you should be disqualified as a candidate for guardianship as you would be incapable of making objective decisions regarding his welfare?"

Pomfrey paused. She believed that the outcome for her petition rested solely on her next testimony. She fought to remain calm, for she had to choose her next words with care – for Harry's sake. "With all due respect, Your Honour," she began, "I have been a Nurse at Hogwarts for nearly sixty years, and in that time I have seen and treated every injury and malady imaginable for a child to have. I act no differently to Harry in that regard, though, while I care for all the children in my charge, I must admit that my feelings for Harry have become more than that of school Nurse to pupil. I would raise him unquestionably as one of my own.

"While I have been – as you say – 'exposed', I have not found it to have clouded my judgments in any way. I have raised two of my own children, and there is a way in which each child 'bewitches' his or her parents – yet many parents are still able to do what is best.

"As the primary caretaker of Harry Potter since his injury a fortnight ago, I have consistently done what is best for him – even in instances where he may not have been pleased by my decisions. I have established a consistent routine of healings, potions, rest times, recreation and rehabilitation." Here, Pomfrey paused again, furiously blinking back unwanted tears, "Hasn't this boy suffered enough? He knows me. He trusts me. On my honour as a witch and a Nurse I have sworn an oath to let Harry Potter truly 'live', and to help ensure he has the happiness he is entitled to." Pomfrey was shaking and she clutched the banister before her for support.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. You may step down," Ogden said kindly. The Nurse stiffly walked down the three steps and back to her seat, looking straight ahead and meeting no one's gaze, and the rest of the session was a blur to her. Pomfrey was vaguely aware of Neville Longbottom's testimony about his grandmother's strict and somewhat harsh methods of childrearing. When the court recessed so that the judges could convene to make a decision, Pomfrey refused to leave, despite McGonagall's persistent urgings that they go out to stretch and get some refreshments. Pomfrey was in such a state that she barely registered that the judges had returned. But she became fully alert when the magistrate announced they had come to a decision, and she nearly lost her composure when Ogden appointed her, Poppy Pomfrey, as the legal guardian of Harry James Potter. The resulting noise in the courtroom was nearly deafening.

After they arrived back at Hogwarts following the court session, Pomfrey stood by Harry's crib watching him sleep. Rose Chang had given Harry a dreamless sleep potion to stave off the aftereffects of the magistrate's Legilimency. When he finally woke, Harry was unusually subdued, as if he wasn't certain of what was reality. This was what Pomfrey had been warned to expect and she was ready with kind words of reassurance.

"We're home now, Harry," Pomfrey told him, and though she wasn't sure how much he could comprehend she continued, "This is your home now, Harry. With me. No one will ever take you away from here again. No one will ever hurt you again. You're safe, Harry. You're home, dear." Harry blinked slowly at her and then his eyes closed as he fell back into a deep slumber.

Next time, Chapter 14: Why Ever Would You Think A Pet Jarvey Was A Good Idea?

Comments welcomed (understatement) ;)