The change was immediate. He could feel his language slipping, his fine motor became more clunky, and his gross motor clumsier. This dosage was a heavier hitter than the last.

"Daddy, am… scared," Harry teared up.

"Bug, we're going to have so much fun tomorrow. Please don't stress out and worry about feeling tiny. Daddy loves to take care of you," he reassured.

At that, Harry curled up with his daddy and fell asleep.

He dreamt of flying on a dragon and playing air soccer. He was fast, he was coordinated, and he had an arm on him. Something any college team would pay to have! But alas… it was a dream.

Almost as if a premonition, Daddy said they were going to watch Quiddich. The magical sport everyone followed in their world. He got to see the real thing in the afternoon! He just had to get through the morning and he'd be on the field with the rest of the campus.

Daddy took his time giving Harry his breakfast. Oatmeal that Harry had to eat himself at first and then Daddy took pity on him after it took a solid 15 minutes to eat half the bowl because of his poor fine motor control. Daddy feeding was much faster.

Harry made quite a mess and was feeling yucky after urinating in his diaper. He pleaded for a bath which Daddy obliged but warned would not happen every time he wet or messed because of time constraints.

Bath time was a… wet affair. Harry got water on the floors and ceiling somehow when he pretended to be a merman chasing a whale. Daddy even transformed some of the toys again to move for real in the tub. He felt like a real sea creature!

Daddy laughed at the water play and got his own "bath" from all of Harry's water begin slung out of the tub. Eventually Daddy joined Harry in the tub to simply wash together giving it up as a done deal.

Harry became utterly distracted by Daddy's body, but Daddy was on his best behavior. Sigh. An unfortunate for Harry.

They washed each other in the silliest of ways, giggling the entire time with all the bubbles and suds floating along in the air. The smell was erotic and irresistible and Harry had a hard time keeping his hands in the right places. He lingered on Daddy's member as long as he dared before rinsing off.

"Why so sulky baby boy?" he prodded gently.

"Want touches Daddy…" Harry sighed.

"Hmm. Maybe if you're good today baby. Maybe…" he promised.

They climbed out of the tub together and Harry gave a lingering, lusting look at Daddy who simply chuckled. Harry couldn't control his urges as well as Daddy could. It was so frustrating.

Daddy dried Harry off with the softest towel he ever felt. It felt like a cloud. He felt so small and safe inside of it. His hair and body, from his face to his toes, got dried completely.

He dressed Harry in a clean diaper and a onesie that held the school's colors on it – green and silver. It was long sleeved to manage the cooler weather. It was definitely infantized but Harry liked that he'd be sporting the right colors. It was important to represent Slytherin well for that supports Daddy well.

The team they were facing was from Hufflepuff. They would be sporting a yellow and black wardrobe. They were at the bottom of the league and should be easier to beat today. Harry was excited to feel the invigoration of the crowd.

Daddy insisted on packing a diaper bag with all the essentials. Harry was mortified at the idea of needing a diaper while they were out and never gave it a thought before now. He was sure it was going to be an issue and there was going to be no way around it if the match ran long.

Harry and his Daddy made their way down to the pitch. They were the first of a few to arrive this early. They had some of the best seats with Daddy being a professor. They sat right at the commentary box.

Daddy bounced Harry easily on his knee as he waited for the stands to fill. Several classmates waved to Harry and grinned. Harry hid his face embarrassed he wouldn't be participating. A boy named Liam Cole took his place as seeker.

Finally it was time to start and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff shook hands and took off on the blow of the whistle.

Harry found his processing speed was slightly delayed in watching the match. He was noticeably a step behind every gasp, ohh, and ahh of the crowd. He was frustrated and outwardly began to cry.

"Oh bug, oh bug. What's wrong? Gryffindor is winning," Daddy soothed.

Harry cried in earnest. He couldn't watch his favorite sport. He couldn't play it anymore. He was suffering as a baby. He wanted to be big again, but then felt that in itself was too much because he was too little to be big.

The game kept going on but Harry just started hyperventilating. "I… I… Bad… Me… I… Can't…" He stammered and howled between sobs. People were starting to look at him instead of the match.

Harry began to shake from top to bottom. His heart pounded. He sweat through his onesie and cloak. He urinated without control. Everything… He lost his grasp on every control he had and couldn't stop it.

The panic broke through and Daddy raced into action, swooping him from the stands and taking him into the castle to regulate him. He rubbed Harry's back and counted slowly backwards from 100.

"Breathe bug, breathe with me," he urged. "Come on. 100, 99, 98,…"

They made it to the dungeon by a count down to 65 and to Daddy's private quarters by 30. It felt like eternity but the counting helped Harry begin to breathe.

And then… he screamed.