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Harry knew he wasn't supposed to leave his brothers' side. He hadn't wanted to! He was trying to follow along, but there were a lot of people, and it was hard to follow them when a crowd was trying to push him in another direction! See, it wasn't Harry's fault. If he had been with the Dursleys, he might have been tempted to get lost on purpose, just so that he could get away from them. Permanently. He wasn't with his relatives, though. The twins had made sure of that. They had taken him away from King's Cross as soon as the Order looked away, and they had promptly gotten onto a train on the Muggle side of the train station.
"Now, listen here!" a male voice fumed a bit ahead of him.
Harry backed away at once. It sounded way too similar to Uncle Vernon. He knew it wasn't him; the Dursleys never took the train, but that didn't make the discomfort go away.
Harry's small feet carried him forward. He had no idea where he was going. He only ever went to King's Cross to go and leave Platform 9 3/4. He didn't know the place, and everyone was so tall and busy! He had been pushed around by adults too busy looking ahead to see the small human toddling in front of them. Most of them hadn't even apologised! Harry would have been severely reprimanded for that.
Not for the first time, he cursed his small body. It was all Voldie's minions' fault! A spell colliding on him at the Department of Mysteries had resulted in this. Of course, at first, no one had noticed anything because the effects were time-delayed, but a day later, Harry had woken up small!
He had hidden under his bed and waited till his roommates had vacated the place before calling the twins for help. Fred and George had immediately sneaked into Hogwarts and taken care of things. Fred had taken Harry with him, and George had stayed at Hogwarts, under Polyjuice.
They had met up at the train station to wait for George and were on their way to wait for their train when they were separated. Harry knew he was supposed to take the train and get out at Potters Bar. He didn't know which he was supposed to take or which platform he was supposed to go to.
He didn't know where he was supposed to go if he got lost.
Harry squeaked in a mix of surprise, fear and pain when a man who hadn't noticed the child in front of him almost stepped on him.
"Harry!"
The dark-haired boy whirled around, small fist enclosing the rabbit plush Fred had transfigured from one of Hermione's books (the redhead had a grudge against the girl, for some unknown reasons) and given Harry. It had soothed him when it came time to sleep in his huge bed, much, much bigger than the cot he had in his cupboard. Logically, Harry had all his memories. He knew that he was supposed to be bigger. He knew why he was small right now. He knew everything that had happened, but it was like some distant memories. He remembered, but the spell as well as his current body influenced the way he behaved and reacted to things.
Of course, Fred (and George in a moindre mesure) had been delighted. Not that Harry had been hit by spells, no, but they had been ecstatic at the idea of seeing how Harry was before Hogwarts. How small he was. George had been transfiguring and buying children's clothes ever since it had happened.
It was a bit ridiculous if you asked Harry; they didn't even know how long the spell would last, but George seemed to love choosing the colours and fabrics of his new clothes, so Harry let him have it. He didn't even pout when Fred presented him with the wolf onesie that George had sent them from Hogwarts.
"Fwed!"
Did Harry say how much he hated the way he sounded when he was younger and incapable of pronouncing the "r" in words? It was so embarrassing.
Fred was standing near the counters, worry etched on his face. The worry seemingly vanished, replaced by utter relief upon seeing Harry turning towards him. He practically sailed across the station, rushing to meet him and knelt once he was in front of Harry.
"You scared me, baby, when I turned around, and you weren't there."
He shushed him when Harry tried to apologise. When Fred finally stood up, he was holding Harry, apparently not trusting the Muggles around them not to separate them again.
"Okay, you remember where we're going?"
"Take the train and get off at the Potters Bar station," Harry repeated. "George?"
He was tired and sleepy. Maybe a bit upset, too, from getting separated from Fred and getting lost. Sighing, he rested his head against his brother's shoulder, and his thumb found its way into his mouth.
"He'll meet us at Borehamwood. For now, he's fooling the Order. They haven't noticed anything. Thank Merlin, Moody is on a mission, or it would have been over for us."
The redhead carried Harry towards the commuter rail. They barely had to wait a couple of minutes before the train arrived, and Harry felt Fred untense. Right. They were avoiding the Order.
Once they were in the train, thankfully trunk-free because Fred could use magic outside of Hogwarts now, the redheaded teen walked to an empty seat and sat down, Harry in his lap. The child was half-asleep by now, and Fred passed the time by watching the landscape at the window.
The lady in front of him – a woman in her seventies- cooed when she saw them. She had a gentle smile, the kind of smile that would look alien on Aunt Muriel.
"He's adorable. Is this your brother?"
Fred nodded with a grin.
"My baby brother," he whispered.
Her smile softened. Despite her white hair and wrinkles, she looked younger when she smiled. She was wearing a floral-print pair of trousers with a black top and a jacket. She had earrings in the shape of birds, the kind of earrings you would see kids wearing.
She reminded him a bit of Luna. She probably didn't care what others might have to say about the way she dressed. Why would she? Older people didn't have to take lessons from anyone (at least, not someone as nice as Miss Sheila).
Miss Sheila got off the train exactly one station before Harry and Fred did. When it was their turn, Fred almost tripped over a bag that one of the passengers had left in the middle of the damn path.
Silently cursing, Fred adjusted his hold on Harry and pushed the button to open the train's door.
Once they were out of the train station and in a discreet alley, Fred figured that any trail they might have left would be cold, and he apparated away with Harry. They landed in a public bathroom Fred had once had to stop at when he and George were practising their apparition.
"Okay, we have to meet George at the local café. It might take a little bit," he told Harry when he noticed that the dark-haired child had opened his eyes.
Harry nodded sleepily, but didn't reply. Fred figured that he must have been exhausted, and left him alone. Besides, even when he wasn't tired, Harry was rather quiet. Forcing him to socialise or talk would not be well-received.
"You're hungry, baby?"
Harry nodded against his chest, and Fred grinned as he opened the café door. George wouldn't be there for a little while. He might as well order something for himself and Harry.
George showed up an hour later, grumpy and tired. Lupin had apparently thought it a good idea to threaten Harry's relatives, and it had taken a while before he could slip away from Privet Drive after they had gotten there because Vernon was spitting mad. One more good reason to keep Harry away from there, even if he wasn't currently child-sized.
As soon as he put his bag on the empty chair next to his, George swooped down and lifted Harry from an indignant Fred.
"Hey, you don't hog him. I haven't seen Harry in two days! I deserve some Harry time too."
Harry, for his part, was all too happy to let George cuddle him. He had missed the other redhead, after all. He deserved some George time, too.
"Not fair," Fred argued, pouting.
"Ha? You've been hogging him for the past few days. I've been experiencing Harry withdrawal symptoms."
"Now, you're just making that up," he heard Fred argue, and had to hide a grin in George's chest.
He felt safe, right there, surrounded by the twins' familiar scent, and far, far away from the Order and the Death Eaters.
Being child-sized wasn't nearly as bad an experience as he had expected.
He wouldn't mind staying like this for a while.