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“Mr Potter,” Snape paused as Harry looked up. “Harry, if I could borrow you for a moment?”
Harry peered at him nervously, half tempted to hide behind Ron. “I think I’m meant to get on the train,” he told the scary looking teacher.
“I’m afraid Mr Weasley will need to travel alone…”
“…But you promised he could come to The Burrow. My Mum’s agreed and everything!” protested Ron, to Harry’s relief.
“You can rest assured, Mr Weasley, that I will in fact deliver Mr Potter to The Burrow in good time. However, we must first make a side trip.”
“Where? Why do you need to take him?” Ron continued to press.
“Mr Weasley!” Snape finally lost all patience and rounded on Ron. “This trip is necessary, I will take good care of Mr Potter – there is no cause for concern. I will not take any more of this questioning, no matter how well intentioned it may be.”
Ron swallowed heavily. “Well, you didn’t always like Harry very much,” he stammered. “Sir.”
“I am well aware that I am dealing with a very different boy, thank you Mr Weasley,” complained Snape, with finality. He turned to Harry, glaring for a moment before his face relaxed somewhat. “Harry,” he said, as though his fight with Ron hadn’t just happened right in front of him. “I will need you to travel to The Burrow with me. I assure you that I will deliver you to your friends in good time.”
“OK,” said Harry, offering the man his hand and cautiously stepping away from Ron. “Where do we need to go?”
“If I can, I would prefer to explain as we go,” responded Snape, nonetheless taking Harry’s hand. “We must first walk to the Apparition boundary.”
Harry swallowed, turning to wave at Ron and Hermione with his spare hand, before obediently following Snape, hoping that the racing in his heart was unjustified.
“Harry,” said Snape gently, as he led him through the grounds of Hogwarts, away from the now departed train. “I’m afraid before you can go to The Burrow, we must visit the Dursleys.”
“The Dursleys?” Harry stopped walking, his hand almost slipping from Snape’s grip as panic overtook him, his already rapid heartbeat racing, and his breath starting to come in pants.
Snape sighed, but remained calm, pulling Harry forward slightly by his hand before sweeping him into the air and positioning him on his arm. “There is no need to panic, Harry,” he insisted. “I will not be leaving you in their custody at any point.”
“Custard?” Despite his worries, Harry needed to understand what precisely Snape was talking about.
“Custody,” repeated the man. “I will not leave you in their care.”
“Oh, right,” nodded Harry, making no move to climb down at all, instead hanging on to Snape with both hands and desperately trying to breathe more slowly.
“You will be fine,” assured Snape again, striding forward again, carrying Harry with him.
Harry didn’t say anything else, there was nothing else to say. He clung to the teacher determinedly, no longer in the least bit concerned by the man’s daunting appearance. He was on his way to see the Dursleys, he needed all the help he could get.
All too soon, Snape stopped walking.
“Harry?” He lifted his arm slightly, raising Harry’s head closer to his own.
Harry wasn’t sure he could speak just now, he nodded instead, still concentrating on keeping himself calm.
“I am going to Apparate to Privet Drive,” explained Snape slowly. “You should hold on tightly. When we arrive, I will put you down, but I will not leave you at any time. Is that acceptable?”
“We really have to go there?” whispered Harry.
“We must,” confirmed Snape. “Otherwise, we would not.”
“OK. I’m ready,” nodded Harry, wrapping his arms around Snape’s neck so tightly he was worried he might strangle the man. He was still wondering if he might be overdoing it, when abruptly the world spun around him and his stomach had to stop to debate whether emptying its entire contents was the best course of action.
“Harry?”
Snape was talking to him again, his hand stroking his back soothingly.
“Yeah,” gasped Harry.
“Are you OK?”
“I’ll be OK,” swallowed Harry, finally making a move to climb down, though he was thoroughly tempted to simply cling to the tall teacher until it was all over, he was certain the Dursleys wouldn’t have improved in the ten years he didn’t really remember.
“Follow my lead,” said Snape grimly, gripping Harry’s hand tightly and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
It helped, a little, but not much. Not when the familiar house appeared in front of them. Number 4 Privet Drive, he’d been hoping he’d seen the last of this place. As he watched the door looming before him, Snape knocked.
“Yes?” Uncle Vernon opened the door, possibly even wider than the last time Harry remembered seeing him, and clearly well aware that Snape wasn’t someone he wanted to impress. He was always much more polite to people he wanted to impress. “What do you want?”
“I have come to talk to you about Harry,” responded Snape smoothly. “There has been an accident.”
“If he can’t keep his thieving hands out of trouble, that’s no problem of ours, and – I think you’ll find – no kind of accident,” snarled Uncle Vernon.
“It is not, in fact, Harry’s hands, that have had an accident,” observed Snape, glancing down at Harry and pulling him forward slightly, without ever letting go of his hand.
Uncle Vernon, possibly due to his enormous stomach, didn’t initially notice Harry. Instead, he spent several very awkward minutes staring at Snape attempting not to blink. Unsurprisingly, Snape seemed to be much better at that sort of game.
Nonetheless, it was Snape who broke the silence. “This is your nephew,” he finally explained.
“It is not!” Uncle Vernon peered down at him in disgust. “That’s a small child, he wouldn’t even be able to reach the stove in the kitchen. Harry Potter is a disgusting, lazy, lying teenager.”
“As I said, there has been an accident,” replied Snape smoothly.
“No,” said Uncle Vernon. “We will not take him! We are just a few short years from getting rid of him, I will not have that time extended by this little freak. If he’s going to get himself shrunk that’s his own look out.”
“I see.” Snape’s eyebrows lifted as one. “Perhaps we should come inside to discuss alternatives,” he suggested.
“There is nothing to discuss,” insisted Uncle Vernon. “And I will not let that boy into my house in his present state.”
“I have paperwork that will enable you to legally relinquish custody,” pointed out Snape. “However, I am not prepared to discuss it in the street, and I will not leave a young child outside alone.”
“Fine,” huffed Uncle Vernon. “You can both come in. We can lock him in his cupboard while we sort out the details.”
“You will not lock him in a cupboard,” declared Snape, swinging Harry into his arms once more, making Harry’s still panicking heart soar. “He will sit with me.”
“You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for,” muttered Uncle Vernon, gleefully clapping his hands together. “Petunia!”
Snape walked in, carrying Harry, going directly to the lounge, where he took the most comfortable chair beside Dudley – who was in the middle of a computer game and ignored all of them. “Please turn that infernal noise off,” he told Dudley.
“What’s it to you,” scoffed Dudley, turning back to his game and ignoring Snape entirely.
Harry snorted, unable to help himself, Snape smirked evilly then waved his hand in the general direction of the television, vanishing it.
“Dad!” whined Dudley. “He’s just disappeared the telly!”
“You freaks! You’re as bad as he is! Bring that back!” yelled Uncle Vernon, going a nasty shade of red.
“Your son was unacceptably impolite,” sneered Snape. “I am assisting you in disciplining him, before the matter gets out of hand.” He glared at the fat muggle. “The implement will return shortly, as soon as the child has agreed to apologise and turn it off.”
“You have no right…”
“…And, of course, we have concluded our business. I have no desire to spend any more time here than is absolutely necessary,” added Snape.
“Mum!” wailed Dudley, bawling his eyes out as all of his efforts to press random buttons on his controller failed to return the television. “I don’t like magic!”
“My darling boy!” Aunt Petunia, up until that moment apparently undisturbed by two fully grown men arguing at the door, or any news of her sister’s son being in an accident, appeared to fuss around Dudley, seemingly having decided that chocolate would be the only answer to a disappointment of that magnitude. “What have you done to our poor, little Duddikins?” She rounded on Snape, recognition flashing through her eyes and turning her annoyance into disgust. “Oh, it’s you,” she added.
“You recognise this man?” spluttered Uncle Vernon.
“My sister’s first boyfriend,” spat Aunt Petunia.
“He could be the Father? I thought…” Vernon trailed off.
“When they were children,” explained Petunia. “Potter was the Father, the boy’s not as easy to get rid of as that.”
“You are mistaken,” put in Snape, apparently choosing to ignore Petunia’s other words – probably wise if they wanted to leave before the Hogwarts Express completed its journey. “I have here papers that will allow you to sign away custody. We have found an adoptive family more suitable to Harry’s needs.”
“You mean freaks,” spat Petunia.
“I mean human beings,” responded Snape.
“Well now wait a minute,” blustered Vernon.
Harry felt this had gone on long enough. Taking a deep breath, he slid from Snape’s knee and onto the floor, all too aware that he wasn’t exactly imposing. “I thought you wanted me gone,” he said quietly to Uncle Vernon. “This is your chance, why are you arguing?”
“Harry?” said Dudley, in shock. “What happened to you? You’re smaller than those babies starting school.”
“Accident,” said Harry, as calmly as he could manage. “Better stand back in case I have more.”
Dudley’s eyes widened and he shrunk back into his seat, as far from Harry as he could manage. “Maybe I’ll wait upstairs,” he suggested.
“Certainly, I will be ecstatic to be relieved of your presence, Mr Dursley, once you have performed the simple task I require of you,” responded Snape.
“What?” asked Dudley.
“He wants you to apologise,” explained Harry, thinking Dudley was being pretty thick. He supposed that tail Hagrid had given him really had made him a bit nervous about magic.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” stuttered Dudley, bowing and backing out of the room without giving anyone a view of his backside.
Snape sighed and rolled his eyes, reappearing the TV and nodding to Harry to turn it off for him. “Shall we – finally – get down to business?” he asked, producing two rolls of parchment from his pocket.
“This will remove all responsibility for the boy?” asked Vernon, reaching into his pocket and revealing a pen.
“It will,” nodded Snape. “It will also bar you from interacting with him, or even speaking of him.”
“Why would we want to see him?” protested Petunia. “Little freak. He belongs with you, he always has.”
“I am, for once, in complete agreement with you,” nodded Snape, motioning to the two of them where they were required to sign.
Harry sidled closer to Snape, scared to breathe in case he somehow distracted the Dursleys and they changed their minds. Finally, Snape rolled the parchment up in his pocket and reached once more for Harry’s hand.
“It hasn’t been any sort of pleasure,” he announced, standing even as he shot the two muggles a few final glares. “I hope never to see you again.”
“Likewise,” responded Vernon, grinning as he followed Snape and Harry to the door, slamming it behind them.
As the door slammed behind them, Harry let out a huge sigh of relief, his legs almost collapsing beneath him.
“Breathe, stupid boy,” muttered Snape, reaching down to take hold of both his arms as he steadied himself.
“Is it true? What you said to them? I never have to see them again?” gasped Harry.
“Worthy of this little side trip then?” asked Snape.
“Yeah.” Harry beamed at him, the relief coursing through his veins. All of a sudden, he felt as though a load had been lifted from his shoulders. He might be much younger than all his friends, he might only half remember them even after several days of working on it, but he was about to spend the summer away from the Dursleys, followed by never going back there and instead learning magic and becoming a wizard. A giggle escaped from his lips, almost involuntarily, and his legs started to do a little dance almost on their own.
Snape, who didn’t seem at all prone to such things, smiled. “Let’s get you to The Burrow,” he said. “If we are quick we’ll probably beat the train there, and you can meet Mrs Weasley in peace.”
Harry laughed. A great big bubbling up, can’t possibly hold it in laugh. He didn’t even remember Mrs Weasley, he didn’t care.
Snape reached down to pick him up again, still smiling, and the two of them apparated away from Privet Drive forever.
Mrs Weasley, or Aunt Molly as she suggested he call her when he looked a bit uncomfortable with ‘Mum,’ was everything that Aunt Petunia was not. She was short – though admittedly much taller than him, slightly plump, ginger and very smiley. She welcomed Harry with the same enthusiasm that Petunia had shown for getting rid of him.
“Harry!” she cried, rushing up to hug him the instant Snape had put him down. “So good to see you! Don’t worry about this shrinking thing, I’m sure Dumbledore will have it worked out in no time. Have you been eating enough, dear?”
“Yes, loads,” grinned Harry, picturing the massive feasts at school, and just how much better they were than the offerings in Privet Drive.
“Congratulations, Molly,” interrupted Snape. “He is now, officially, your ward.”
“Oh wonderful!” beamed Molly. “You were as good as anyway, Harry, I hope you realise, with Sirius still on the run, but there’s something special about having it in writing. I think I’m going to make a cake!”
“If you don’t mind, I would like to check on the wards, perhaps strengthen them, before I take my leave,” said Snape.
“Oh certainly. Harry, do you want to say goodbye to Severus before he heads off?” asked Molly. “Then maybe come help me with the baking?” As Harry moved to wrap his small arms round Snape’s legs, she smiled. “There’s a good boy.”
“Bye,” said Harry. “Thank you.”
“You are not at all as I had assumed, Harry Potter,” Snape told him, his eyebrows expressing something Harry couldn’t really get hold of. “It will be a pleasure to see you again during your holiday.”
Harry smiled, waving as the man exited through the front door, though he could still be seen through the kitchen window waving his wand around for some time afterwards. Harry didn’t worry about it though, already up to his elbows in dough and thoroughly enjoying Molly’s magical shortcuts in his new home.
It was always nice going home at the end of a hard term – exams, essays, paying attention in class – of course, seeing his friends at school was great too, but a quiet summer at home was amazing. This time was even better. As Ron entered The Burrow, pushing his way in front of Fred, George, Ginny and his Father, the house was already filled with the amazing smell of baking and running to greet him alongside his Mum, was Harry.
“Harry! You made it!” cried Ron, picking his small friend up and swinging him round. “I was worried Snape had kidnapped you or Dumbledore had changed his mind or something!”
“We went to see the Dursleys,” replied Harry, he grinned, reassuring Ron immensely. “Snape insulted them, and now they can’t come anywhere near me.”
“Couldn’t have happened to nicer people,” chimed in both twins as they squeezed through the door past Ron and Harry.
“Though a bit less in the doorway might have been better,” added Fred.
“Just saying,” said George, with a shrug, dumping Harry’s trunk next to the two younger boys.
“Come on, Harry,” sighed Ron. “I think that’s as helpful as they’re going to be, I’ll help you take this up to my – I mean our – room.”
“He’ll do no such thing!” protested Molly. “Harry’s much too little to be lifting that!” She waved her wand and the trunk levitated itself then floated awkwardly up the stairs.
Ron grinned, whispering to Harry. “We’ll be finding trunks in random rooms for weeks.”
Molly glared at him, though she couldn’t have heard. “Go on with you,” she said, “both of you. Go and sort yourselves out, let the others in. That’s it, come on in Ginny, so good to see you all!”
“Come on,” said Ron, putting Harry down and nudging him towards the stairs. “We should get out of the way while the going’s good.”
………
“I trust all was well?” Dumbledore greeted Snape as he returned from The Burrow.
“If you call those preposterous muggles well,” complained Snape, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, that you could leave her son with them.”
“I had my reasons,” smiled Dumbledore, “as you well know.”
“Let’s say I’m glad they’ve been negated,” bit out Snape, frustrated.
“Yes, as are we all, Severus,” nodded Dumbledore.
“And?” pressed Snape. “Will you be able to turn the boy back?”
“Into a 14 year old?”
“Yes, obviously,” responded Snape.
“I’ve been looking into it this past few days,” said Dumbledore. “It seems very likely that reverting Harry to his original state would also revert Voldemort and Wormtail, losing us this advantage we’ve been given.”
“This is the boy’s life we’re talking about! He’s not just a chess piece in your game, Albus. He’s her son,” sighed Snape.
“You like him better, this smaller version,” commented Dumbledore.
“Let’s just say I’ve been forced to re-evaluate my opinion on the matter,” said Snape, closing his eyes against images of Harry’s very real fear of his relatives.
“You say you’re keen to keep him away from those muggles, yet you press for me to re-age him, something that would almost certainly accelerate Voldemort’s arrival and force him to go back to the muggles’ house,” remarked the older man.
“It may bring the Dark Lord closer, it would not send Harry back to those people,” declared Snape, reaching into his pocket and revealing the parchment signed by the Dursleys.
“Oh, Severus,” sighed Dumbledore. “It was for his protection.”
“It was not for his protection! If you had any idea how they treated him, you couldn’t possibly say that! Those muggles have caused more damage to that boy than the Dark Lord ever has,” spat Snape.
“Really, Severus,” chided Dumbledore. “Voldemort caused the death of Harry’s parents, I really don’t think the muggles have done more than that.”
“Not for lack of trying,” muttered Snape.
“And Voldemort intends to kill him,” added Dumbledore.
Snape rolled his eyes. Certainly, the old wizard was correct, but with all the protections around The Burrow, it seemed absurd that Privet Drive could be considered safer, he was certain Vernon Dursley would be entirely willing to kill Harry if he thought he’d get away with it. “Are you able to revert Harry to his original age?” He pressed again.
………
It took three days for Harry to work up the courage to sneak out of the room and downstairs rather than waiting for Ron to get up, though no one had ever suggested that it might be a problem. Even then, he felt a bit like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, he pushed the door to behind him as silently as he could manage on leaving the room, then tiptoed towards the stairs, still wearing the pyjamas he’d borrowed from Molly’s stash of old clothes. Ron remained safely snoring behind him.
He grabbed the bannister, still less steady on his feet than he might normally be, going to head downstairs and hopefully find something to eat. However, his foot – in the process of reaching for the second step – remained suspended in mid air as both of his arms were grabbed from behind.
His heartrate shot through the roof, his brain rapidly flitting around in his head, wondering again if there’d been some sign that he was just supposed to wait in his room. He always had when he’d visited before, but then he’d been a teenager – getting up at the same time as Ron had been easy.
“Harry, my boy!” laughed one of the twins – possibly Fred.
“Leaving Ronnie so soon?” added the other one.
“Ssshould I sssttay?” stuttered Harry, panic still flooding through him.
“Sorry, mate,” smiled George (possibly), obviously recognising Harry’s nervousness and bending down to lift the boy into his arms.
“We didn’t mean to scare you,” added Fred (probably).
“We were just thinking that you might need some tips.”
“On being a kid,” added Fred.
George nodded. “You seem a bit hung up on what Ron does.”
“And we know you’re really 14, but you’re four too.”
“You should enjoy it,” they both added together.
Harry stared at them, trying to bring his breathing under control.
“I think he’s panicking a bit too much at the moment, Fred,” commented George, stroking Harry’s head in a remarkably soothing manner.
Fred nodded. “Maybe we should feed him breakfast first, George,” he suggested.
“We’ll give you some tips later,” said George. “You know you can get up whenever you’re ready though, right? You don’t have to wait for Ron.”
“We never do,” added Fred.
George grinned, heading down the stairs still holding Harry.
Harry knew he should protest, try to avoid getting into the habit of being seen as an actual little kid, but he really had had a nasty shock, and he was comfortable. He laid his head against George’s chest, instead, still trying to force himself to relax.
“That’s one of the things we thought we should mention,” whispered George. “All those extra hugs.”
“Nothing wrong with a good hug,” agreed Fred, heading into the kitchen and starting to sniff around the cupboards. “How do you feel about cereal, Harry?”
“Another advantage,” put in George. “Food delivered to you.”
“Handy,” they both nodded in unison.
“Good,” managed Harry, finally feeling a bit less like he’d had a run in with a boggart, and squirming to get let down.
George let him go easily, reaching for his own cereal bowl and pulling up a chair as the milk floated over to the table, causing Harry to clap his hands in delight. “Don’t forget though,” the older boy reminded Harry. “Enjoy the hugs, no one hugs a teenager.”
“Or carries them, no matter how tired,” added Fred.
Harry smiled. “But that makes me feel like a baby,” he replied. “I don’t want to feel like a baby either.”
“I think we should demonstrate, George,” said Fred. “You be my baby.”
“OK, Fred,” agreed George, easily, winking at Harry. “Should be fun.” He lifted his thumb into his mouth and began sucking it.
Fred grabbed the cereal, tipping some out for all three of them, then passing each of the others a spoon. “What me to feed you, Georgie?” he asked as he took his own seat.
George nodded, removing his thumb from his mouth and slouching back into his chair comfortably as he opened his mouth.
Grinning, Fred took George’s spoon and acquired some cornflakes before flying the spoon into George’s mouth – complete with aeroplane noises.
“I don’t want you to feed me,” spluttered Harry, hurriedly taking hold of his own spoon.
“But only because you feel embarrassed,” pointed out George, still relaxing against the back of his chair.
“It’s not just baby stuff either,” explained Fred, handing George the spoon and moving on from their little demonstration. “You can sneak into places without getting trouble.”
“Or pull a cute face if you do,” put in George, pointing at Harry and adding, “yeah, like that one!”
“Very effective,” nodded Fred, seriously.
“Playgrounds!” exclaimed George.
“We love playgrounds,” they both nodded. “But we’re too big.”
“Grown ups can go on playgrounds,” protested Harry.
The twins shook their heads.
“Not really,” said George. “People don’t like it, not unless it’s really quiet. But you’d have no problem. You could even act as our ticket to get in.”
“You want me to take you to a playground?” asked Harry.
The twins shared a look. “Definitely,” they both nodded.
“But not til after breakfast,” added Fred. “Mum’d kill us.”
“There’s other stuff too,” grinned George. “People reading stories to you.”
“Carrying your bags.”
“And toys!”
“We have toys anyway,” protested Fred. “You don’t need to be small for that.”
“But you can play with toys instead of listening to boring conversations,” insisted George. “And it’s fine, no one will mind.”
“Oh yeah, good point George.”
“Thanks, Freddie.”
“You see what we mean, Harry?” asked George. “We’re just not sure you’re looking at this properly, trying to just be normal Harry for Ron.”
“Normal Harry, what?” Ron stumbled in, clearly still half asleep. “I was wondering where you’d got to,” he muttered. “Wait, have they been filling your head with ideas?” He stepped back slightly, looking nervous. “You do realise I’ve had enough jokes played on me to last a lifetime?”
Harry laughed. “Just breakfast,” he said, waving his spoon.
“Ah, excellent, I’m starving,” grinned Ron.
“Think about it,” said Fred, pointing to Harry as he and George stood up and put their dishes in the sink. “You know we’re right.”
“And if you need any help…” added George.
“What am I?” protested Ron. “I’m helping!” He turned to Harry. “You needed help with something?”
“Just reaching a bowl,” grinned Harry. He watched Ron wander over to the cupboards, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, then reaching for the milk – by hand this time. Harry kept scooping up his cereal, munching at it, then pausing to look up at Ron and establishing that he was still mostly asleep and entirely engrossed in his own food, he shifted his grip on his spoon, holding it sideways and quietly making little engine noises as he flew it into his own mouth.
It was quite satisfying.
It was only days after the majority of her children had returned from school and Molly already felt as though Harry had always been part of her family, despite the changes in him. It look longer for her to recognise the effect he was having on her family. After a few weeks, she could see how Ron and Ginny had been inspired by taking responsibility for looking out for Harry, how Harry himself had rediscovered magic and given them all a new joy in it, and how the little boy had taught Arthur so much about muggles in such a short time.
How Molly herself felt as though she’d got her own children back. Naturally, she’d been aware that the house was empty a great deal when the children were all away at school, but she hadn’t truly considered how independent they all were now – they needed her, but not as much. Harry, despite his slowly emerging teenage side, was still also a small child, and sometimes he behaved as such. Sometimes the others joined in.
Well, Fred and George were like giant children all the time anyway, even if they were now of age, but it was different.
It was lovely.
Last week Harry had even let Arthur give him a bath (apparently that was something he didn’t want Ron to help him with, and definitely not one for Molly herself), and demonstrated the use of a rubber duck. Her sweet, batty husband had been talking to her about it for days afterwards.
In honour of all that, Molly felt it was important they did a good job of Harry’s birthday. It was still two weeks away, but she had plans.
First, Bill and Charlie were going to visit, and she would finally have all of her children together.