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Draco wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten stuck looking after a de-aged Potter. Sure, it was his prank that caused the Potions explosion that shrunk Potter in the first place, but that certainly hadn’t been the plan. And loathe as Draco was to admit it, his reward for his bad behaviour shouldn’t have been being entrusted with the whelp’s care.
But as soon as Potter had woken from being knocked out and shrunken, he had clung to Draco’s robes and had barely released him since. Not the pleas of his friends, scathing remarks from Snape, nor a visit with the headmaster could convince baby Potter to relinquish Draco. Snape was working on an antidote, but for now, no one knew how long the effect would last. Draco couldn’t say he was amused the first day or two, but now, as the currently five-year-old Potter looked up at Draco with big, doe eyes, Draco could admit that he was softening. Potter really was a cute kid.
Fortunately, the rest of the Slytherins agreed. Instead of further intimidating a kid that was clearly already scared and in unfamiliar terrain, they gathered baby Potter into the fold since it looked like he’d be hanging around for a while. They played games with him in the common room, urged him to try treats in the Great Hall, and read him stories by the fire. If they took the opportunity to jeer at the Gryffindors that the Saviour was theirs now, well, they were Slytherins, after all.
Granger and Weasley had taken to following Draco about, convinced he was going to harm Potter while he was in such a vulnerable state. Draco wasn’t that much of a knob, but he supposed he could see where their fear came from. He could be a bit of a prat, he supposed. But if all Draco had wanted was Potter’s attention these past several years, he certainly had it now. Draco’s bed wasn’t even his own anymore.
Currently, he was walking to Hogsmeade with baby Potter still attached to his robes, who was listening to Pansy talk about all the sweets he could acquire at Honeydukes. Acid pops and chocolate frogs and jelly slugs and ice mice. Draco tuned out as the list kept expanding.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have, as Pansy had apparently promised baby Potter that Draco would buy him whatever he wanted. The boy disappeared as soon as they entered the shop and returned to Draco with his arms laden with sweets. Draco tried to refuse but baby Potter countered with a pouty mouth and more doe eyes with tears and Draco was sunk. Draco did, however, manage to pick Pansy’s pocket to pay for all the sweets that she had promised the boy.
That night, Draco wished he’d put his foot down on the number of sweets. Baby Potter was a whirlwind with a sugar high as he zoomed around the common room, bouncing off furniture and talking to the Slytherins, being less shy than he’d been since he transformed.
Pansy snickered, delighted at the outcome of her scheme, when baby Potter’s energy was still going strong well into the night. Draco tried to convince her to read Potter a bedtime story as she had before, but she cackled at him, gestured to the little boy who had almost no likelihood of sitting still, and wished Draco luck as she laughed herself down the hall to her dorm.
Draco glared after her, but sighed as he rallied himself to wrangle the hyper boy for bedtime. Baby Potter resisted, of course. More interested in playing in water than bathing. More interested in drawing designs with the toothpaste than brushing his teeth. More interested in jumping on the bed than getting under the covers to sleep.
Draco was exhausted and just when he thought he had reached his breaking point, the energy high left baby Potter and he crashed right into a hard sleep. Draco glared at the energetic cause of his damp hair, toothpaste-stained shirt, and dishevelled bedding. He sighed. Baby Potter was lucky he was so cute.
Draco rearranged the small boy properly in the bed and climbed in beside him for a much-deserved rest of his own.
When Draco awoke, it was to a returned sixteen-year-old Potter, sitting cross-legged on Draco’s bedspread, with slightly flushed cheeks and biting his lip. Draco had to admit that this Potter was ridiculously cute in an entirely different way than baby Potter had been.
When older Potter turned large, doe eyes on Draco again and smiled, Draco knew that he was sunk.