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He gave Xander Spinnet a month-long detention, and the rest of the third year class – both Houses – lost two hundred points between them for tittering. He ordered them all out, then shrugged off his oversized clothing, wrapped his now knee-length frock coat around him tightly, and padded barefoot through the cold stone halls to Dumbledore’s office.
“It seems to have made you prepubescent,” the old man said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Gumdrop?”
Pomfrey could do nothing. He waited in misery for the potion to wear off. Week by week he grew taller, and then just older.
His body had to be at least thirty again, but the Dark Mark had not reappeared.
Lucius Malfoy appeared at his office door, wondering in vague and cautious terms why he hadn’t been coming to meetings. Severus bared his arm.
Spinnet’s mistake with the Shrinking Solution was not hard to replicate. Dumbledore had a word with the Wizengamot. Amnesty was quietly arranged for those who cared to take advantage of the offer.
Less than a week after Lucius’ visit, a tiny blond boy who could have been Draco’s brother sat with the first-year Slytherins. The day after another child joined him, and in the following weeks many more. Soon Voldemort had very few followers left.