"Quick, wrap him up."
"In what? All I've got is a shirt and trousers."
"Use the shirt, wrap it around him and pick him up."
"Someone is going to see us."
"Not if you hurry up!"
Harry knelt before the crying newborn and folded Ron's oversized muggle t-shirt around him. He tucked the arms in and then carefully lifted him into his arms. The baby's cries quieted and he mewled softly as Harry instinctively rocked him.
"Get the rest of his clothing and let's get out of here," Harry hissed. Draco scooped up the trousers, pants, socks and shoes and followed him to the front. They exited as casually as they could, acting as though nothing was amiss. But as soon as they were outside the facade cracked.
"What are we going to do?" Harry squeaked. The newborn yawned and thrust a tiny fist into the air "is this really Ron?"
"Of course that's him," Draco scowled. "And what do you mean we? He's your friend, he's your problem."
"You did this to him!"
"It was an accident!"
"So what? It's still your fault!"
"Look, Potter," Draco set Ron's clothes on the ground and backed away. "I'm sorry, it was an accident, but I don't know how to fix this."
"Don't you leave, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "You're on probation, remember? If you leave I'll go straight to the Ministry's Pensive and show them what happened."
Draco halted his retreat. "You would send me to Azkaban over an accident?"
"I don't want to," Harry said. "I want you to help me."
"I don't know how to help you," Draco's eyes were desperate. Harry's threat had struck him hard.
"Help me think, what do we do?" Harry was nearly panicked. His best friend was a baby and he had no idea how to change him back.
"Okay," Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Let's be practical. We need to figure out which hex I threw. But in the meantime he's a baby and that means we need milk and nappies."
"Nappies," Harry groaned.
"I'll go back into the store and see if I can find the right information card," Draco continued. "I'll also see if they have any baby supplies. There's a chemist area along the far wall. You wait here."
"Don't you dare leave," Harry's panic rose again. "If you go in there and Disapparate i'll go straight to the Ministry."
"I'm not leaving!" Draco yelled. The baby startled and began crying again.
"Just go," Harry snapped as he rocked and shushed Ron, trying to calm him as best he could.
Draco darted inside and disappeared into the crowd. Harry paced anxiously, cooing and bouncing and rocking and humming, but Ron continued to cry. Harry thought he might cry, too. He didn't understand how a little baby had him so rattled. He had faced the Dark Lord Voldemort with less fear.
"It's okay, mate," he murmured to the infant in his arms. "We'll figure out how to get you back."
"Do you need help with your baby?" A kind voice said behind him. Harry whirled around guiltily and met the gaze of a sweet old witch in a powder blue peaked hat.
"I," Harry paused with his mouth agape, at a loss for an answer.
"New fathers," she tutted. "What's that you have him wrapped in? Is that a shirt?"
"I," Harry shook his head helplessly.
"Hold him, let me have that," she gently unswaddled Ron and handed him over. With a swish and a flick she transfigured the t-shirt into a blanket and re-swaddled him in a neat little bundle.
"You might also consider a nappy," she said. "What are you doing out with a baby before you know how to care for him?"
"My wife is ill," Harry blurted out. "I've never cared for a baby by myself before."
"Do you know how to feed him?" She frowned. "How often? How to heat a bottle?"
"Yes," Harry lied. "It's all the other stuff I still need to learn."
Just then Draco burst through the door of the shop with an armful of packages. "They had milk and formula potions and I found a book on-" he hauled up short at the sight of the old woman.
"Well at least you have a friend to help," she chuckled. "Between the two of you, you should be fine. There's no magic to it," she winked. "Good luck, I hope your wife's health improves."
"Thank you," Harry smiled weakly. She hobbled away, muttering and tutting to herself about new parents.
"Wife?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"What was I supposed to say?" Harry asked. "That this is my best mate and our school bully is in the store buying nappies?"
"Nappies!" Draco smacked his forehead. "I forgot."
"Don't worry about it," Harry held his hand out and beckoned Draco closer. "Let's get him back to the Burrow and feed him before he starts crying again. I'm sure Molly still has some cloth nappies around somewhere."
"What? I'm not going with you," Draco looked horrified.
"You bloody well are too!" Harry shouted. Ron started crying again. "You are not leaving me to deal with this by myself. You're going to help me fix him."
"I got you the information card," Draco tried to shove the armful of packages at him.
"Fuck off, Malfoy, you're coming with me," Harry pushed the packages back into Draco's arms. They glowered at each other, the crying baby filling the air between them.
"I can't help you, Potter-"
Harry lunged and seized Draco by the elbow, then Disapparated with a sharp pop. In a swirl and a squeeze they landed in the yard in front of the Burrow. Draco yanked his arm away and staggered back.
"Did you just Disapparate with a baby?" he gasped. "You can't Disapparate with a baby! It's bad for them!"
"It is?" Harry stared down at the stunned infant in his arms. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ron, you're okay. Help me, Malfoy."
"Give him to me," Draco lifted him from Harry's arms and cradled him close to his chest. He held a hand above Ron's head and murmured a soft incantation. Terrifying seconds ticked past as he chanted, then suddenly the baby snapped out of it and wailed tremulously. Harry's head swam with relief.
"Fucking Merlin," Harry wiped his sweating brow with his hand.
"Are you an utter fool?" Malfoy looked up angrily, still holding Ron close. "You could have killed him."
"I didn't know," Harry said. "I need your help."
"Obviously."
Draco carefully handed Ron back and hefted his bundle of packages. He looked up at the ramshackle assembly of building materials, the chaos of chimneys and add-ons, and hesitated.
"I heard their home was destroyed," he said. "I didn't realize they were still living in the rubble."
"This is the new house," Harry said. "They rebuilt it exactly as it was before."
"So this is the rebuilt house," Draco's eyebrows shot up. "This isn't the destroyed bit?"
"No, arsehole," Harry glared at him. "This is their home and they love it exactly as it is."
"Don't get tetchy with me," Draco said. "I'll bet anyone seeing it for the first time might get the wrong idea."
"Come on," Harry grumbled. He pushed his way inside and felt the familiar wash of welcoming comfort that he always felt here. He didn't care what Draco said, the Burrow was exactly what every good home should be.
Draco went straight to the kitchen and rummaged around until he found a pitcher. He poured in a measure of milk and read the label on a phial.
"What is that?" Harry hushed and rocked Ron as he began to fuss.
"Turns cow's milk into mother's milk," Draco muttered, squinting at the instructions. He poured it in and uttered a short incantation while stirring with a wooden spoon. He dipped his pinky in and tasted it. "I guess that's right, but what do I know." He grimaced, "it's even body temperature."
He fished a bottle and nipple out of the bundle of purchases and poured in a few ounces. Harry retrieved it and touched it to Ron's lower lip, sighing in relief as he latched and began to suckle.
"The pitcher is fine to stay out until it's gone," Draco went back to reading the label. "I bought a few extras so you should be set for a while. If you need more you should take the Floo to Hogsmeade." He rifled through the packages again. "I found a book, too. What to Expect When You're Expecting, Magical Edition."
"I'm not expecting," Harry said. "That's a pregnancy book."
"Well I also got you one on newborn and infant care," Draco rolled his eyes.
"I don't like the way you keep saying you," Harry said. "You're in this with me until we figure out how to fix it."
"Potter," Draco groaned.
Harry returned to the living room and sat on the sofa. Ron's eyes fluttered sleepily as he nursed, grunting softly with every swallow. He had worked one tiny hand free from the swaddle and held it up above his head as he drank, his little fingers opening and closing in a fist. Draco slouched to an armchair and sat, his head tossed back onto the cushion in a showy display of misery. Harry didn't care. He could be as miserable as he wanted, as long as he stayed.
When the bottle was empty Ron released the nipple and sighed, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes closed and his breathing became slow and measured. Harry set the bottle down and felt some of the fear drain out of him.
"Take him," he whispered, leaning forward to pass him to his former rival. "I'm going to go look for nappies."
"Hurry," Draco said. "With a belly this full I'm sure he'll be ready to go soon."
Harry crept up the stairs to the linen closet next to Ginny's room on the first floor. He tossed open the gatefold doors and scanned the contents for anything that looked like it was meant to capture baby waste. Finally he said "Accio nappies," and jumped back as a dozen white square cloths threw themselves at him. "Accio pins," he said, but nothing responded. He checked the cloths and found one with a legible label, which claimed to be a self-sealing nappy. He shrugged and closed the closet door.
Harry returned to the living room and paused at the bottom of the stairs to marvel at the sight before him. Draco was hunched over Ron, rocking gently from side to side and humming. His long, blond forelock dangled over the sleeping baby's face as he cradled him in his arms. Never in his life would Harry have expected to see such a thing.
He was such a contrast to his surroundings. The Burrow had been restored to perfection, which included all of the mismatched furniture and well-worn upholstery. Every inch of every table and shelf was crammed with odds and ends, and the clutter imparted a warm familiarity to the space, even to the newest newcomer.
Draco, on the other hand, was all crisp lines and black tailored fabric, impeccably fitted without a loose thread or wrinkled cuff to be seen. He was a study in juxtaposition, hard and dark against the soft warmth of the Weasleys' home. Add in the baby and it was nearly incomprehensible to the sensible eye.
Draco looked up, the gentle expression on his face held for just a fleeting moment before he caught himself and reset to the more familiar cold sneer. He knew Harry had seen him, and he didn't like it.
"I found self-sealing nappies," Harry held up the stack of white cloth.
"Are they self-cleaning, too?" Draco asked.
"I'll Scourgify them," Harry set them down on the seat of another armchair and sat on the end of the sofa near Draco's knees. He reached out and touched Ron's head, marveling at the already distinctive ginger hair.
"You can't scourgify cotton," Draco said. "You'll rough the weave."
"Says you," Harry curled his lip.
"Do whatever you want," Draco aborted a shrug, reluctant to disturb the sleeping child. "When he's wailing at you because you've swaddled him burlap, you'll wish you listened to me."
"Hopefully it won't come to that," Harry said. "We need to figure out what you threw at him so we can reverse it."
"There's an information card in the bag," Draco nodded towards the kitchen. "Take him with you, I don't want to hold him."
Harry didn't believe him for an instant. He'd seen the soft look in Draco's eye. But instead of arguing he lifted Ron from his arms and carried him into the kitchen. He shuffled through the assortment of packaged items until he found a small square of linen paper that was inscripted with fine calligraphy. He took it back into the living room and handed it to Draco, who was inspecting his nails as though bored.
"Juvenis Mensem," Draco read. "This hex reverts the recipient to infancy, wherein he will age to present over the course of one month."
"So that means it will fix itself?" Harry felt hope flare to life in his chest. "One month and he's back to normal, right?"
"That's what it says," Draco drawled, tossing the square onto the table. He leaned on his elbow and eyed Harry coolly. "So you won't really need me after all. He'll grow up soon enough."
"Bollocks," Harry spat. "He's a baby right now, isn't he? That's what I need help with." He pushed Ron into Draco's arms again. "I need to see if Molly still has a crib."
"Wait," Draco stood and followed him, protesting all the way up five flights of stairs to Ron's room at the top of the house. "Salazar's pants, Potter, how many floors does this place have?"
Harry didn't answer, instead focusing on accessing the hatch to the attic and clambering up to the rafters. Draco ducked into Ron's room to escape the sprinkling of dust that fluttered down. Harry marveled that the reconstruction had even replaced the dust. He hoped that meant the long forgotten items in storage had been replaced, too.
It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. In the corner beneath a vent he spied a suspicious mound of white sheet that clearly covered something the Weasleys wanted to protect. He swept the sheet aside and grinned at his good fortune.
"Found it!" he called. He cast a quick Scourgify to clear away the fine film of disuse and then levitated it across the space and down through the hatch.
"That's your idea of a crib, is it?" Draco called up softly, so as not to disturb Ron's slumber. "It looks like something from the twelfth century."
"Some things never go obsolete," Harry grunted as lowered himself to the floor and closed up the access panel. "We'll cover it in a blanket, and then we can lay him down to sleep. No reason to have to hold him every second."
"Where do you want to put it?" Draco nodded over his shoulder. "My guess is that this is his room, the bloody git."
"Not all the way up here," Harry said. "We'll put him down in the living room so we won't have to keep going up and down stairs."
"There you go with that 'we' business again," Draco grumbled.
They made their way down the stairs with the crib levitated before them. Harry found a sheet in the linen closet and set everything up near the sofa. Draco pushed Ron into Harry's arms and pointed at the pile of nappies.
"Wrap his knob before he wees everywhere," he said.
Harry knelt on the rug and laid Ron in front of him. He drew a nappy from the pile and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
"He looks bigger already, doesn't he?" he sat back on his heels. "He looks like a proper baby, not like a wrinkly old man."
Draco raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.
Harry sighed and smoothed out the nappy on the floor with the flat edge pointed up. Then he turned it a quarter turn so a corner was pointing up. Then he folded it over into a triangle. Then he unfolded it and smoothed it out again.
"You have no idea what you're doing," Draco said. Harry looked up at him and knew it would be pointless to deny it. Draco's lip was curled in his trademark sneer, but it lacked guile, much to Harry's relief.
"Do you know how to do it?" he asked.
"No, but it doesn't take a genius to fold a nappy," Draco knelt next to him and poked an elbow into his ribs to shove him aside. He lifted the cloth and squinted at the label, then nodded. "Unwrap him."
Harry took a deep breath and untucked the ends of the blanket, releasing the burrito roll of swaddle and exposing the naked baby that was his best mate. Ron opened his eyes and tucked his legs and arms in with a small squeal.
"Sorry to tell you, Weasley," Draco said with a smirk, "from what I hear that's as big as it's going to get."
"Malfoy," Harry shoved him in the arm, toppling him over. "Don't say mean things to babies." Still, he couldn't quite squash a snicker.
"All right, let's not get rowdy," Draco straightened his collar and his expression. "Now then, lift his bum and I'll slide it underneath." Harry obeyed, grasping Ron's chubby ankles and hoisting him up from the rug. Draco slipped the nappy beneath him and Harry lowered him onto the white cotton square.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Now we say-"
An arc of urine issued forth, fountaining with astonishing height in a pale yellow stream. In the blink of an eye Harry's t-shirt and Draco's jacket were wet from the golden shower. They both scrambled back, shouting and waving and panicking.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Harry's voice cracked. "It's all over me!"
"This jacket is custom tailored, Potter!" Draco yelled back.
"Well if you'd taken it off like a normal person it wouldn't have gotten weed on, would it?" Harry plucked at his shirt, horrified by the wet slash down the front. Down on the rug Ron giggled and kicked his tiny feet.
"Oh you think that's funny, do you, Weasley?" Draco shucked his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair near the fireplace. "Well you're just a baby. Who's laughing now?"
"Are you picking a fight with an infant?" Harry pointed at the cloth. "Just do the incantation and get him covered up."
Draco shot him a withering look and knelt beside him again. The sleeve of his black button-down shirt brushed against Harry's elbow, its silky texture sending a shiver up his arm. He grasped Ron's legs and positioned him, then intoned, "Diparius Enrobium." The white cloth sprang to life and folded itself around the baby's bottom. The ends tucked in and sealed tightly, creating a neat barrier between his bits and the outside world.
"Well that was an adventure," Harry muttered. "I need to get out of this." He yanked his shirt over his head, trying to keep the wet spot from touching his face. In his haste his glasses came off and clattered to the floor. "Bollocks," he tossed the shirt away and looked around for his spectacles.
"Here," Draco held his glasses out, his cheeks inexplicably pink and his eyes carefully averted.
"Thanks," Harry plucked them from his hand and slipped them back onto his face. He wondered at Draco's sudden discomfort. He knew he had a nice body, passable by most standards at the very least. He wondered if... no, fate wouldn't be that kind.
"He needs some clothes," Draco rewrapped the swaddle and retreated to the sofa with Ron in his arms. "He can't just go about with nothing on."
"Right," Harry shook his head and went back up the stairs to the attic. He wondered fleetingly whether Draco was talking to him or the baby.