"You utter prat," Ron glared at breakfast. "You tried to have Hagrid fired, when you knew you were the one who upset Buckbeak."
Draco sighed and nodded as he sipped his tea. Random outbursts of accusations were becoming the norm, now that Ron's school memories were returning with great speed.
"I was angry that Harry had showed off again," Draco said. "At least, that's how I saw it at the time. When the hippogriff didn't let me do the same I got angry and went to my father. That's how I handled everything in those days." He took a bite from his toast and raised his eyebrow. "I was on the receiving end of my father's wrath much of the time. It made me feel better to put someone else in his way."
"That's not an excuse," Ron glowered at him with teenage rage.
"Of course it isn't," Draco said. He stood and dumped his breakfast in the sink, then departed for the living room. "Pace yourself, there's worse to come." Ron harrumphed and stormed up the stairs.
It was the twentieth day of the hex and Harry wondered how they would make it another ten days. Ron was butting heads with Draco at every turn, looking for explanations and apologies for the outrages of youth in an attempt to reconcile the man he knew with the boy he remembered. Harry could tell it was wearing on both of them. He knew it might be best to let Draco leave and finish out the month on his own, but he was determined to continue to show Ron that Draco had changed, so when he finally turned nineteen he wouldn't have to start from scratch.
"Ron!"
Harry looked up from his newspaper. Draco looked up from his book with a furrowed brow.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, are you there?"
"Molly!" Harry squeaked. He dove to the floor and dragged Draco down with him by his shirt collar. They laid on the rug and stared at each other in wide-eyed panic.
"Ron! He's not there. I'll call again later."
"Fire call," Draco said, picking himself up off of the floor with an air of dignity.
"She's going to call back," Harry said. "What are we going to do?"
"Do you think she would notice that Ron is thirteen?" Draco asked. Harry gave him a withering look. "Well don't look at me like that, your big idea was to lie on the floor until she went away."
"She's going to notice that her son is four years younger than when she left, Draco!" Harry shouted.
"Okay fine, don't get your knickers in a twist," Draco thought hard. "Do you know where they're staying? You could call her back."
"And what do I say when she asks to speak to Ron?"
"Say he's in the shower."
"What kind of sense does that make, to call her back and tell her Ron can't speak? Why wouldn't we call back after he got out of the shower?" Harry asked.
"Well if you're so bloody brilliant, you think of something!" Draco tossed his hands up in frustration.
"Polyjuice!" Harry snapped his fingers.
"There's never been a good plan that started with Polyjuice," Draco said.
"I have a stash," Harry ignored him. "I know the Weasleys well enough, I can stand in for Ron."
"If you say so," Draco sighed. "I'll go tell Bean to keep Ron occupied outside. Maybe he'll want to go for a spin on his broom."
While Draco was clearing the house Harry dug through his bag for his small flask of Polyjuice. He brought the bottle downstairs and decanted a small measure into a cup. He checked around for something with a hair in it and found the soft bristle brush they had used after Ron's first bath. He fished out a short ginger hair and dropped it into the cup.
"Bottoms up," he muttered, bracing himself for the horrid flavor. He drank quickly and immediately felt the roiling change spreading through his gut.
But something was wrong. The room was getting bigger. He gawked at the furniture as it swelled up around him, larger and larger until it towered over him. His clothes billowed around him, and far too late for him to do anything about it he realized he had used one of Ron's baby hairs. He kicked his legs and waved his arms and cried in frustration.
The back door opened and closed and then a very large, very amused Draco Malfoy was standing over him.
"You've got to be joking, Potter," he smirked. He leaned down and scooped Harry up in his arms. "You Gryffindors have always been too quick to action, too slow to think. Let's get a nappy on you, shall we?"
Harry was terribly embarrassed. His underdeveloped tongue and throat were unable to speak, so all he could do was cry. Draco laid him in the crib with a delighted grin and quickly wrapped a nappy around him, then swaddled him in a blanket. Harry watched helplessly as he worked, too small and weak to do anything but allow it.
"Who's my sweet baby boy," Draco cooed in a mocking voice. He picked Harry up and rocked him, deriving far too much enjoyment from Harry's predicament. He carried him to the sofa and sat. "Would you like a bottle?" he laughed.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and cried, wishing he could speak up and say no. He wondered how much time had passed. His emergency stash was a weak brew, only intended to change the user's appearance for twenty minutes or so, but he had no idea how long it had been so far.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt the roiling change begin. His innards bubbled and pushed and his limbs lengthened and his body grew, bursting free from the swaddle as he reverted to his former size. The diaper, charmed to be one-size-fits-all, grew with him and stayed resolutely sealed around his bottom. Draco smiled at him, still cradling him in his arms. Harry glared back.
"Who's my sweet baby boy?" Draco cooed again, his grin reaching new heights of mockery.
"Put me down, Malfoy," Harry growled.
"My stars, he can talk!" Draco gasped in delight. "They grow so fast."
"Haha, very funny," Harry climbed out of his lap and searched through his discarded clothes for his wand. He released the diaper and let it fall to the floor. He braced his hands on his hips and frowned at Draco in all of his naked glory. Draco reached out to touch him but Harry stepped out of the way.
"Oh don't be like that," Draco gave him puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry. Would you have wanted me to leave you on the floor?"
"No," Harry quickly dressed himself and slipped his glasses back over his face. "But the diaper and the swaddle were a bit much." Draco laughed uproariously. "But now what are we supposed to do?" Harry asked. "Molly is going to call back and she'll expect to speak to Ron."
"Your silly plan will still work, Harry," Draco struggled to catch his breath. "You just need an adult hair. Surely Weasley has a brush or something that he hasn't used since he changed."
"I'll go look." Harry went up to Ron's room and searched through his drawers. He found a travel bag that he recognized from school and knew it should contain personal items that he brought home from Hogwarts just a few weeks ago. He unrolled the pack and found a hairbrush.
"Are you sure that's one of his?" Draco asked as Harry returned to the living room. "Wouldn't want you turning into his sister next."
Harry shuddered at the thought. "No, this is definitely from his brush from school."
"Okay then," Draco reached out and plucked a hair from Harry's head.
"Ow! What was that for?" Harry winced.
"They left the house to both of you while they're gone," Draco said. "They're going to expect to see both of you."
"So I'm going to become Ron and you're going to become me," Harry said in disbelief.
"Correct," Draco poured out two measures of Polyjuice from the flask and offered one to Harry. "You know where to call, right?"
"Yes," Harry dropped the hair in and took a deep breath. He and Draco glanced up at each other, then both drank at once.
"Bloody horrible," Draco grimaced. Moaning in agony he doubled over as black hairs sprouted all over his head.
Harry watched as his hands paled and freckles popped up all over his skin. He felt himself getting taller, his shoulders getting broader. His glasses were too strong and blurred his vision so he cast them aside. A hand swept in and scooped them up. He turned and met his own green eyes, not for the first time in his life.
"Well this is just disturbing," Draco held out his arms and inspected himself. He went to the mirror in the hall and studied his face. "You are a handsome devil, Potter. Not as handsome as me, but a close second."
Harry stepped up to the mirror and felt the strangest disorientation as he and his best mate stared back from reversed eyes. His heart squeezed as he realized how much he had missed Ron, present day Ron, over the past three weeks.
"Come on, you silly tosser," he dragged Draco by his elbow to the kitchen. He threw a pinch of powder into the Floo, announced Charlie's house, and stuck his head into the flames.
He didn't like fire calling, he always found it to be too much of a strain on the neck. But the connection was solid and the cozy shabbiness of Charlie's home resolved around him.
"Mum!" he called. "Are you there?"
"Ron!" a shriek from the next room startled him. Molly rushed in and knelt before him. "How are you? Is the house okay? How is Harry?"
"Fine," Harry said, his heart pounding. Would she know her own son too well for this to work? "We're both fine, the house is fine."
"You haven't thrown any parties, have you?" she asked knowingly.
"No, definitely not," Harry said. "No parties."
"Where is Harry, is he there with you?" she asked. "Tell him to join you."
Harry withdrew his head and eyed Draco. "She wants you to join the call. Can you be me?"
"I can be you better than you can be you," Draco said with haughty disdain.
They both stuck their heads back into the emerald flames. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Draco said in a bright, chipper, treacly sweet voice. Back in the Burrow Harry elbowed him in the ribs.
"Harry!" her smile grew. "How are you?"
"Brilliant!" Draco grinned.
"Ron tells me you haven't thrown any parties. Is that true? Don't think you can lie to me, boys," she folded her arms across her chest.
"We haven't thrown any parties," Draco reassured her. "We've just been relaxing and enjoying our time off."
"Well deserved," Molly nodded approvingly. "I just wanted to check in to make sure everything was fine. We'll be home in a little over a week. Please make sure you've picked up the place so we don't come home to a pigsty."
Draco snorted, and Harry elbowed him in the ribs again. He knew he was thinking about the mismatched construction of the Burrow, and the fact that he had thought it was ruined when he first saw it.
"You laugh, Harry Potter, but if that house is a mess when we get home I'll tan both of your hides," she wagged her finger. "I don't care how old you are."
"Yes ma'am," Harry said.
"Sorry, ma'am," Draco said.
"Well it was good of you to call me back," she smiled sweetly. "We're getting ready to go to the dragon races again. It's been a marvelous trip. We'll tell you all about it when we get home." She blew a kiss. "Love you!"
"Love you, too," Harry and Draco said in unison. Then they leaned back and pulled their heads out of the fireplace.
"Crisis averted," Draco said with Harry's mouth. "Aren't you glad a Slytherin mind anticipated that she would want to speak to both of you?"
"Yes, yes, you're brilliant," Harry rolled Ron's eyes.
"Can I be very honest with you about something?" Draco asked. "I have absolutely no desire to kiss you right now."
"That's good," Harry nodded. "Because I feel the same way."
Just then the roiling bubbling feeling started again and Harry braced his hand on the floor while the change swept over his body. He felt himself get shorter, watched the freckles on his arms melt away, and finally he was back to himself. Draco looked up through Harry's glasses and squinted as though pained.
"Great Merlin's pants, Potter, your vision is terrible." He handed Harry his glasses and smoothed his blond hair back into place.
"Can I be very honest with you about something?" Harry asked. Then he lunged at Draco and tackled him to the floor, kissing him deeply and running his hand down his body. He released Draco's mouth and grinned at him.
"I agree," Draco nodded. "But the Polyjuice aftertaste leaves something to be desired."