Chapter Text
By the time that Harry hears about the Family Education and Care Unit, it’s long since made it’s way out of the Muggle Studies class run by Professor Burbage and all the way up to the Headmaster’s office and approval was given for the project. Since none of his friends were taking the class, neither he nor they had any warning of what was to come.
On the first night back from the winter holidays, all of the sixth years were gathered up and brought into one of the larger unused classrooms. There were over a dozen boxes on a front desk, as well as Professor Burbage, and all the Heads of House.
Harry sat somewhere in the middle with his friends on either side. The students chatted amongst themselves as they took their seats, naturally splitting into their house lines. He was as curious as everyone else, though reluctant to show it. After all, he didn’t have a good track record with large gatherings like this.
The last time he’d been sitting with a group of students, waiting in anticipation for something to start with teachers looking on had been fourth year, when the Triwizard Champions were picked.
“What do you suppose they want?” he overheard Lavender whispering to Parvati in the row ahead of them. “What’s in those boxes?”
McGonagall stepped forward and swept the room with a Look that brought everyone to silence. She eyed a few students here and there, Harry included, and then said, “We’ve gathered here today at the behest of Professor Burbage. Please listen all the way through before asking any questions.”
She then stepped back as Professor Burbage stepped forward. She was a happy woman, blonde and smiling and wore her hair in loose curls around her shoulders. Clapping her hands together, she exclaimed, “Thank you all so much for coming. I’ve been so excited to share this project with you all.
“For those of you who are in my class, you’ll remember when I spoke to you about a course that muggle teens tend to take in their later years of school. One that is supposed to prepare them for their future as parents or caregivers to a child. Several of you expressed a desire to do something similar, and I promised I would see what I could do.” She gave a few pointed smiles to students that Harry was unfamiliar with.
“After some discussion with the Headmaster,” Burbage continued, “We were able to come up with the perfect solution!” She turned and rested her hand on one of the boxes, “In each one of these boxes, we’ve made a little doll that is enchanted to behave like a child from three to six months old. They’ll have many of the same needs as a child, including hunger, comfort, social interaction, and overall care that will all be monitored through various other enchantments.
“Since you are all past your OWLs and not yet preparing fully for your NEWTs, we thought you would be the perfect class to take care of these little ones,” Burbage said, “So from now until the second week of February, you and a partner will be caring for your own little baby.”
Muttering immediately broke out. Harry saw people shift closer to their neighbors or farther from other people, already forming pairs.
“And,” Professor Burbage raised her voice to be heard over the murmur, “The Headmaster agreed with my idea to make this an Inter-House Unity project, especially since how splintered we were after the last year. Your partner may be of any gender, so long as they are from a House that is not your own.”
The muttering shifted to something annoyed. McGonagall stepped forward with a stern look, quieting people down. “This is intended to be a joint project between you and your partner. The doll will absorb the magical influence of the one who cares for it the most, ensuring that you will be graded appropriately on how much care you give your doll.”
“Graded?” Hermione’s hand shot up as she asked, “But what if we’re not in Muggle Studies?”
“The Headmaster has agreed that the care of the doll will be turned into raw grade points that can be redeemed with any of your classes for a higher overall grade,” Burbage said with a delighted clap of her hands, “Or, if you prefer, you can add points to your House cup of an equivalent point level once you return your doll and your work is evaluated.”
Harry sat back, absorbing this information while Hermione worried her bottom lip with her teeth and Ron shifted uneasily beside him. The caring for the actual doll didn’t seem to be an issue, but pairing up with someone in a different House than his own? Harry eyed the other students around him. He could probably name two, maybe three other students in his year. Those he was friends with outside his House were mostly from different years.
Someone else raised their hand and said, “Can we not have to take care of the doll?”
“Everyone must partner up and get a doll. How you treat it will be up to you. There will be no deduction of points for the evaluation of the doll, just the possible accumulation of more points,” Burbage explained.
There was some more muttering. Harry wished he could opt out, but not necessarily because he didn’t want to take care of the doll. He just didn’t want to partner up with someone he didn’t know at all—or worse, someone who thought the worst of him or who idolized him as a hero. Worst case scenario, he supposed he could partner up with someone from the DA the year before, even though he hadn’t really hung out with them since the beginning of sixth year.
“Take a few minutes to find a partner,” McGonagall instructed, “And once you have, come up to one of your two Heads to gather a doll.”
Immediately, the students began to chatter and get up, looking around, calling out names, making partners quickly. Hermione frowned as she looked around. Harry knew she was wondering not just who she could partner with, but who to get for Harry and Ron.
Surprisingly, it was Padma who approached Ron. “Hey Ron,” she said simply, “Want to partner up?”
“Uh,” Ron gave Hermione a glance, she arched her eyebrow at him and he shrugged. Then Ron said, “Sure.”
Padma gave an assured nod, not just to him but Hermione as well, and practically dragged him off to stand in front of Flitwick.
Hermione slowly got to her feet, “I suppose I’ll...see who there is still…” Her hesitance was obvious. At least half the students had already paired up and were being instructed on the more immediate details of ‘adopting’ their doll up front. Harry caught glimpses of magical flares as whatever the teachers did bound the dolls to pairs of students.
Harry watched as Hermione approached then Justin Finch-Fletchley who stood near a few Slytherins. To his shock, the dark haired Pansy Parkinson turned to Hermione, looked her over, and began to chat. He could tell that it wasn’t a great conversation, but Hermione got that set to her shoulders which meant she wasn’t about to back down.
To Harry’s shock, not even a minute later Hermione was striding down towards McGonagall with Parkinson only a step behind.
That left Harry alone of his friends, as he watched even Neville get paired up—with Hannah Abbott—as well as Dean and Seamus with a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff respectively.
Harry nervously got to his feet, realizing abruptly that he was really the only one left sitting and that there were fewer and fewer students left to partner up. A cold lump formed in the pit of his stomach as he headed towards the last cluster, only to do a quick count of them and realize that there was an even number of students left.
At least, there were if you didn’t count him.
Harry jerked to a stop. He clenched his fists at his side, trying not to think about why no one bothered to approach him. Was it because they thought he was still crazy from last year? Did they worry he was going to get them hurt or in trouble? Did they just not like him?
Burbage noticed him by his lonesome and she waved him over. Harry swallowed down the knot that had formed in his throat as he went. He was glad Hermione was busy getting her doll so she couldn’t notice his situation and even Ron was busy with his. At least there was that.
“It looks like we have an uneven number of students after all,” Burbage said with a little smile as she brought him over to the table, “But that’s okay, Mr. Potter. Single parenthood is just as valid as dual-parenthood. In fact, it’s quite common for a myriad of reasons. Unless, of course, you wanted to be part of a triad? While it’s unusual in the Muggle world, it’s not uncommon in the Wizarding world to form a triad of two of one gender and a third of another.”
“No—I—” Harry swallowed tightly. He’d stand out on his own or he’d stand out as part of a trio. Either way, he was unusual yet again. “I can do it on my own.”
Burbage smiled brightly at him. She handed him a box and started to instruct him how to bond with the baby. “When you take it out, you’ll find a rune carved into the back of the doll. Take your wand and concentrate your magic into the tip. Then, push your magic into the baby and speak it’s name.”
“It’s name?” Harry blurted, “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“It doesn’t really matter,” Burbage said with a shake of her head, “Since it’s only a simulacrum. You could name it after anything you want or even something silly, so long as you pick a name. It won’t work if you don’t pick a name.”
Harry stared at her a little longer and then looked down at the closed box. He carefully lifted the lid and then stared down at the doll. It really did look like a doll, too. He could see the joints in its arms and legs clearly. It had a smooth belly. Its hands and mouth were frozen in position. It was bald as well, not even having eyebrows.
Staring at it, Harry was reminded of Voldemort’s pre-resurrection body. It was just as pale and creepy looking, though that...thing had been more oddly proportioned than this.
“Have you got a name?” Burbage asked.
Harry bit his cheek to keep the hysterical giggle to himself—he was not going to call the baby Voldemort no matter how much it reminded him of the man.
“Yeah,” he said. He reached in and turned the baby doll over—it was heavier than he expected, and cool to the touch. He saw the little rune between its shoulder blades, plain as day. Drawing his wand, Harry gathered magic into it. He was most used to doing this for the Patronus, so he instinctively thought of all his happiest moments as well—time spent with his friends, his first real Christmas, the feeling of hugging Sirius even if he was all skin and bones—and then he pressed the tip of his wand to the baby’s back and whispered the first name that came to him.
“Tommy.”
Almost immediately, the doll—Tommy—began to squirm. Harry quickly put his wand away and turned the baby back over. Burbage began to explain more things to him in rapid fire—he’d be given a bag with the basic supplies that he was to keep track of and use while tending his baby, the castle would supply him a handful of clothes and nappies for the baby, and while there would be bottles available at meal times, Harry was to be mindful of his baby’s needs and seek out ways to feed and care for it on his own outside of mealtimes if necessary.
She did all this while Harry held the wriggling baby in his arms and watched in wonder as some features began to form. First the skin darkened to more closely match his own skin-tone, though it remained somewhat lighter. Then tiny dark eyebrows sprouted on his forehead and wispy black hair formed on top of its head. Tommy opened his mouth, baring pink little gums as he cried.
“How do I know if he’s hungry or tired or anything?” Harry asked frantically. Burbage handed him the bag with supplies as well as a thin booklet.
“This has basic childcare spells as well as some household charms. Part of your evaluation will be how well you do with these charms after the fact,” She beamed at him, “Isn’t it brilliant? You get to learn practical skills and practical magic all at once!”
“That’s great,” Harry said as he hurried to rummage through the bag, holding Tommy with one arm and trying not to freak out about it. He remembered being cold all throughout his own childhood, never having enough clothing or food or comfort and he wanted at least a blanket for Tommy before anything else. “Excuse me-”
“Good luck with Tommy!” Burbage exclaimed before she left him fumbling. Harry cursed under his breath and brought his bag over to a desk so he could rummage more easily.
He found a stack of nappies, some clothes, and at last, a blanket. It was thick and felt warm. He spread it out with a flick of his wrist and a push of magic and then laid Tommy on it. The nappy took a bit of trial and error, but a quick flip through the notebook given to him gave him a guide and Harry had always learned best on his feet.
Soon Tommy was covered, dressed, and bundled up as a little burrito in his navy blue blanket. Harry decided to charm Tommy’s little onesie to be a dark green and the blanket to be scarlet with gold snitches on it. There was something deeply familiar about the look of the blanket and after he wrapped up his new baby in it, he stood there for a while with Tommy against his chest just petting it and watching the little snitches flick by.
“Harry, mate!” Ron called out to him. Harry turned to greet his friend, who had Padma at his side. She was carrying their little bundle of joy.
“Hey Ron, Padma,” Harry said. He felt a lot more calm about the whole thing now that Tommy was nestled against his shoulder. He was a comforting weight against his chest. “Congrats on the baby.”
Padma rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip. “Thanks.” She turned her baby around. It had shocking red hair—clearly from Ron—and dark skin. “This is Paraminta.”
Ron gave a sheepish look when Harry glanced over. “I figured she could have naming rights since she said she’d take care of it the most. I’ll probably just end up putting the points into the House cup at the end.”
“Ron, Harry!” Hermione approached them, baby held in her own arms, wrapped up tightly. Parkinson came with her, making Ron do a double-take. “Hello Padma.”
Padma’s return greeting was drowned out by Ron’s shout, “What’s she bloody doing here?”
“That she is your little friend’s wife for a month,” Parkinson said with a smarmy look. She flung her arm around Hermione’s shoulders. Hermione shrugged her off with a sharp look.
“What did you two name your baby?” Harry asked, hoping to cut off the explosion that seemed to be brewing in Ron’s head.
“Our little bundle of joy is Cassiopeia Eleanor Granger-Parkinson,” Parkinson said with that same smug look.
“You did a full name?” Ron gaped.
“Of course,” Hermione said, “Professor McGonagall said we were to name the doll properly and so we did. Why? Didn’t you? What did you name yours?”
“Paraminta,” Padma said when Ron gave her a quick questioning look. “Well, Paraminta Patil, actually.”
“Did Weasley not contribute at all?”
“I did!” Ron declared, “But Padma said she wanted to be primary caretaker so she called naming rights.”
“And what about you, Potter?” Parkinson swung her sharp gaze to him. Harry hugged Tommy a little tighter to his chest. “What did you name yours? And who’s your partner?” She made a show of looking around, but Harry could tell it was just for show. It was clear he didn’t have one.
“I don’t have one,” he said, “And I named him Tommy.”
Parkinson wrinkled her nose, “How banal.”
Hermione gave Harry a little frown but quickly shot Parkinson a sharp look. “I didn’t agree to be your partner so you would disparage my friends, Parkinson.”
Parkinson huffed.
“It is a little...plain,” Padma said cautiously, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to agree with Parkinson. “Did you pick a last name for him?”
A last name sprang to Harry’s thoughts—there really was only one last name that he thought of when he thought of the name Tom—but he knew better than to say that out loud.
“Well, mine, obviously,” Harry said, “Since I’m the only one taking care of Tommy, he’s got my name. Tommy Potter.”
He looked down at the infant in his arms. Tommy’s hair had finished magically growing in. It was soft and surprisingly thick for a baby. He had tiny dark brows that were scrunched together and dark eyelashes. His eyes were a deep blue-green color and stared back up at Harry, while Tommy pressed his tongue out between his little lips. Harry cooed over his baby. He could just pinch his cheeks forever.
When he looked back up at his friends, and their plus-ones, he saw them sharing a look over his cooing.
“Is anyone else surprised that it’s Potter who got baby fever from an enchanted doll?” Parkinson asked.
Harry blushed in embarrassment and turned to put Tommy on his other side away from Parkinson. “He’s cute, okay? It’s not like I’ve ever even seen a baby before.”
Padma gave him a considering look and then cast her gaze on the others, “Have any of you seen or held a baby before?”
“I have cousins,” Parkinson said with a toss of her hair.
“My sister and I are the youngest set of cousins,” Ron said as he shook his head.
“Not before now,” Hermione said, “Though these are dolls, not babies. They’ll be easier to care for than a real baby.”
Harry frowned a little at Padma’s expression. He could be a good father to his baby. No. He would be a good father to his baby. He’d be the best. He had the best role models, after all. Just think what Petunia or Vernon would do to him as a baby and do the exact opposite.
Easy-peasy.