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the last flickers of a candle

Chapter Text

A cold breeze blows into the blue nursery, fluttering the light, pale drapes of the large window. 

He shudders in his white crib– gilded cage— cold and miserable, mind muddled and thoughts scattered. The clothes he’s wearing, for once since they’ve taken him, thin and threadbare and not warm enough to battle the cold of winter chill. 

They had also taken the warm, fluffy blanket that dominated his. . . bed, so now there was nothing he could do but curl up and hope that he won’t get sick anytime soon. 

(Wishful thinking. Foolish hope.) 

The tears have long since stopped dripping from his puffy eyes, now only forming tracks on his damp, flushed cheeks. He has cried himself dry, and the most he can do is a dry heave that makes his lungs ache. 

(It’s been three months since he’s seen any of them– since he’s tried to run away – and he’d literally kill for any sort of human contact by now. Even them .) 

There’s a painful, shriek-inducing itch in his diaper, the result of continuous peeing without getting changes in regular, healthy time intervals. No feces waste, because he’s been on a strict liquid diet ever since they’ve got him. Magic makes the liquid literally disappear into his stomach, and so there’s no need for anybody to come and feed him. 

Another, stronger breeze blows in, and Harry Potter whimpers and futilely tugs against the padded cuffs that keep his hands restrained to the corners of his bed. 

(Have some mercy, please .) 


The next morning, after Harry had fallen asleep even with the biting chill, somebody comes in to watch him. 

It’s. . . Dada, if he remembers correctly. The man’s cold eyes stare at him from his place on the rocking chair, waiting, waiting, waiting for Harry to crack. 

Perhaps months ago, Harry would’ve stood his ground, spat on the disgusting man and his equally disgusting husband and wife, and fought back. 

He’s not the same Harry from before, however, and so he finally breaks, tears gathering in the corners of his bloodshot eyes and shame curling in the pit of his stomach. 

“D–” and yet, even with how tired he feels he still has trouble saying the title. 

The man leans forward, an eyebrow arched and his hands steepled in his lap. 

“Da– Dada,” Harry finally sobs out, the dam breaking as he feels himself and most of his rational mind slip away into the dark, hidden crevices of his mind. Instead, a timid, scared Little Baby emerges.

The smile that graces the man’s pale features is a proud one that makes butterflies flutter around in Little Harry’s tummy. “My good boy,” the man coos, moving to the crib in three slides and picking the distraught Little up. 

He moves them to the changing table, laying Harry down and causing the Baby the whimper in fright of being left alone again so soon. 

Dada shushes his softly, expertly vanishing the rags off his body to leave him only in his diaper, which he then takes off. 

Harry attempts to jolt and move away from the hands that rub something against his red, irritated skin, but Dada deftly held him until he spread the cream or whatever the hell it was all over his bits and thighs and then diapered him again.

(Before he ran away, Harry would’ve never accepted this treatment as easily as he’s doing now. He wishes for that time, a time before this wretched punishment broke him in such a way.) 

Dada Summons a dark brown fabric, the texture fuzzy and soft looking from what Harry can tell. The man easily maneuvers his weak body into what appears to be a bear onesie, attached mittens and feet included. 

Harry whimpers at first, having his hands forcibly closed into fists in the mittens making his feel uncomfortable. On the other hand, he’s no longer cold as he was before, now wrapped in soft, warm fabric.

The warning, cold look from Dada cuts his whimper off right away. The cool expression does not melt away as the older man gently taps plastic nipple of a pink and white dummy– the one that made him babble like a stupid baby– against his chapped lips.

Harry does not wish to go through that sort of punishment again, thus he opens his mouth right away and takes the dummy in, sucking on it immediately to placate Dada. 

Said man grins at him proudly, cheering and picking him up. “Such a smart, good boy,” he praises, bouncing him carefully to avoid putting unnecessary pressure on his flaming bottom. 

Praise means a bigger, better chance of avoiding punishment, as does being docile and compliant. It’s that knowledge that makes Harry cuddle into the man’s arms, babbling quietly to the pleased-looking man from behind his pacifier. 

“Today is only about you and I, Little One,” Dada says as he goes out of the terrible nursery. “Mumma and Daddy shall join us after dinner.” 

Behind his pacifier, Harry breathes a small sigh of reluctant relief, happy to know that ‘Mumma’ won’t be here until after dinner. 

Mumma is ten times scarier and more obsessed with him than the other two, and he has no doubt that she’ll immediately change him into dresses and feminine clothes, which he does not want.

Harry shudders again, curling up in the strong arms. 

“Dada,” he says in a pitiful tone as they step into a master bedroom that clearly belonged to the three monsters that took him. 

Dada looks at him with a smile, but Harry can see the dangerous glint in his eyes, so he spits his paci out to suck and gnaw like a teething baby on one of his mittened hands.

Dada cooes at him, and then raises his wand, snapping a multitude of wards into place. 

Never again, will he or his spouses let the Little Baby run from them again. 

Chapter Text

“Shush, little one,” Dada is humming, bouncing him to soothe his mournful cries. The blond man attempts, again, to push the bottle’s nipple into Harry’s mouth, only to have Harry block the nipple with his tongue. 

I want solid food, not milk! Harry thinks desperately in his mind, and as if the man hears his thoughts, he puts the bottle down on the coffee table in front of them and sighs.

“Only for today you are allowed to skip your baba, Harry,” he says sternly, only for the expression to melt away to one of fondness and excitement when he and Harry hear the clicking of heels and another set of legs. 

“It’s Daddy and Mumma, little one!” He exclaims to the now-terrified Harry, as though it’s a joyous occasion. Maybe for him it is, but for Harry it isn’t. 

Harry nuzzles the man’s broad chest and curls up in hopes that neither Mumma nor Daddy try taking him from Dada. He whimpers, sucking on his mittened hand in nervousness. 

(Wishful thinking. Foolish hope.) 

Hands, bigger than Dada and Mumma’s, reach towards him and pluck him up like a ripe fruit from a tree, raising him to meet the cold, dark eyes of his Daddy. 

(Fathomless and deeper than the abyss, and his glares more chilling than anything possible. Harry still has not forgotten the furious expression on Daddy’s face the day he tried to escape.) 

“Hello, little boy,” Daddy murmurs quietly, gently but firmly holding Harry to his chest. Harry sniffs and burrows into the man’s thick, voluminous black robes, sucking harder on the mitten to alleviate his rising fear anxiety. 

“Daddy,” Harry cooes, rubbing his face against the warm fabric and kicking his leg out gently. 

Daddy tuts and then non-verbally Accio’s a dummy, this one dark blue with a golden snitch on it. He says a spell, one Harry hasn’t heard before, and then plops the pacifier into Harry’s mouth. 

Further inspection reveals the same babbing charm the pink and white pacifier had, and another charm that makes him drool uncontrollably.  

Humiliated beyond belief as Daddy ties a yellow bib around his neck, tears gather in young Harry’s eyes, slowly sliding down his cheek while he hiccups and cries. 

(Please, have mercy.) 

Harry is babbling quietly to Mumma, even though he wishes he wasn’t, as the pale, grey-eyed woman changes him into a thin, white onesie that is sleeveless and legless. She smiles down at him, blowing raspberries against his clothed tummy and making laugh. 

(Harry is, truly, confused and wary as to why the woman would choose something so simple, but he knows better than questioning her.) 

She brings a giant creme-colored sweater out then and puts it on him with another bib, and then she dresses him in a pair of dark grey thigh high socks. A red ribbon is used to tie his hair in a messy bun, and Mumma does not stop her cooing at him at all. 

“My pretty baby,” she says happily and pinches his red cheeks and then easily picks him up, giving him an eskimo kiss. 

Harry’s babbling gets louder and Mumma laughs at him, sitting down on the rocking chair in the nursery. Harry’s tired face twists and then his lips quiver, much to her shock.  

There’s no way he’ll sleep in the nursery tonight. He’s slept in it for long enough. 

“What’s wrong, precious baby?” She cooes to him, surprised but delighted at having him snuggle with her so eagerly. Cautiously and yet eagerly, she asks: “Do you want to sleep with your parents tonight, little dove? Is that it?”  

Harry nods before she even finishes her question, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. 

“Yeth, Mumma,” he whimpers, sucking on his pacifier and curling up in her lap.

Narcissa Malfoy grins and silently congratulates herself for thinking of such a smart punishment. Had she known that it would this effective, she would’ve done it a lot sooner! 


Chapter Text

“No!” Harry sobs behind his dummy, twisting in Daddy’s arms to reach to the plate of apple slices that sits innocently on the table. It is now morning, and Harry’s still dressed in last night’s attire except he’s now wearing a new, star patterned nappy. 

“That is enough ,” Daddy snarls and slaps the inside of Harry’s thigh with a sharp, painful accuracy, and even though he does not raise his voice one bit, it still feels like he is screaming. “You will not eat those apple slices,” 

In a fit of anger and despair, Harry gives a broken cry and spits his dummy out, not caring to see where it lands. He shakes his head, his shoulders trembling with the force of his hungry cries. 

Last night, even though Dada had said that he could avoid the bottle, Mumma had refused and forced him to drink it while she pinched his nose so that he had no choice but to suck the bland milk. And so understandably— even if only to Harry— all he wanted right now was something solid. 

Naturally, his ‘parents’ are refusing him the privilege. 

Daddy sighs and puts the bottle in his hand down, pulling the still crying Harry up with himself to Dada’s private office, where Dada and Mumma are playing a round of chess. 

“Having troubles, Sev?” Dada questions lightly, after giving a scowl at his pieces because he has, once again, lost in the face of his wife. 

“He broke three rules, Lucius,” Daddy huffs, gently passing Harry to Mumma, whose frown makes Harry whimper in fear. “I would’ve punished him myself, but I have to go and check on the potions in the lab,” 

“Which rules did you break, little boy?” Dada asks him, an eyebrow raised. Daddy leaves them then, after he kisses both Dada and Mumma.

Harry shakes his head, now silent but tears still streaming down his cheeks. When Dada snaps his fingers once, Harry flinches and whines like a cornered animal, fear clear on his face. 

(A snap means the first warning has passed. Dada will go on until three snaps, after which he’ll punish Harry with the… animals.)

Dada snaps his fingers once more and now he looks amused and excited, as does Mumma. A small part of Harry is screaming at him to surrender and tell them, like an actual child, what rules he’s broken. A bigger part, however, says that Dada will not release the animals on him so soon after his last punishment. 

“Aww, is the little boy no longer scared?” Dada laughs, and then snaps his fingers one last time, immediately picking Harry up as he stands from his chair. Mumma only chuckles and waves at them as they leave the study. 

“No, no, nononono no!” Harry screeches as they near another dreaded room, its door the same color as fresh snow. Dada, whistling a cheerful tune, opens the door to a bare, windowless white room that holds nothing but a white, wooden crib with no padding that’s in the middle of the room. 

“Dada– Dada, please! I’m sorry!” Harry starts wailing again as he realizes that Dada was not joking, and his wails pick up in volume when Dada casts a spell that makes all his clothes, including the diaper, disappear to leave him naked as the day he was born. 

“This will teach you to obey us, little one, and not to attempt independent thinking again,” Dada says softly, but Harry isn’t blind to the gleeful glint in the man’s eyes. He puts Harry down in the crib and then, without turning back, leaves the room and closes the door shut behind himself, saying the activation phrase of the room. 




“Harry?” Daddy opens the door of the Snow Room, immediately cutting the simulation spells of the room. 

The acidic stench of urine hits him immediately, and he feels happiness bubbling in his chest; the punishment was a success, and whatever silly little thoughts their Baby had are now dispelled. 

Walking into the room, he sees Harry sitting with his arms wrapped around his skinny knees, trembling all over. He’s not crying anymore, probably because he does not have enough energy anymore to do so. 

“Little boy,” Daddy calls just as the room’s secondary functions come to life, cleaning Harry and getting rid of the urine and its stench. 

“Daddy,” Hary whimpers, immediately cuddling into the man when he’s picked up. He presses himself to the warm body— even if it’s one of his kidnappers— and holds on tightly, trying and failing to get the images and feelings out of his mind and body. 

“Let’s get you all dressed, baby boy,” Daddy cooes as they leave the Snow Room, taking Harry to his furnished and colorful nursery. He puts the Baby down on the changing table, and ignoring Harry’s whines, he spells the clothes and the nappy back on Harry. 

Harry thinks that they’re done, but then Daddy pulls a giant blanket from somewhere and expertly swaddled Harry in it tightly, chuckling at the stunned expression of their Baby. 

Awww! Severus, he looks so, so adorable like this!” Mumma crows from the doorway, smiling as she enters. In her hand, she holds a bottle filled to the brim with milk. Seeing Harry’s broken look, she laughs, picking him up to move them to the rocking chair.

“Now, dove, I do understand that you may want to eat fruits and whatnot, but you’re simply too little!” She says as she puts the nipple in his mouth, massaging his throat to indirectly tell him he better start drinking. “Why, darling, you still need to have your Mumma and Daddies swaddle so that you may not hurt yourself! 

“Itty bitty Baby,” she coos further. “What would you do without your parents, little one? You need us for everything, from feeding and changing you to the simplest of tasks!” 

An ice-cold feeling cramps Harry’s stomach, and seeing the look exchanged between the two adults nearly has him in a panic. 

Just what are they planning? 

Chapter Text

Harry awakes slowly to the sound of rain pelting against the window of his nursery. The room has darkened due to the heavy, grey clouds outside and the smell of lavender fills the room. The mobile above his crib is spinning slowly, and his eyes lethargically follow the stars as they glitter slightly. 

He sucks calmly on his paci, wiggling around slightly in his swaddle. Hmm, he felt so cozy and soft, he might just sleep again… 

The sound of the door forces him to open his eyes once more, blinking slowly to see the sight of  Daddy leaning over the railing of his crib to caress his cheeks softly with the pad of his thumb. 

“Hello, little one,” Daddy coos– and since when did his voice sound so soothing? 

“Daddy,” Harry mumbles behind the dummy, wiggling more insistently to try and get the blanket off himself.

Daddy chuckles and picks him up, but he does not take him to the changing table. Instead, they move to the living room where Dada and Mumma are sitting. A playmat, sea-themed with many strange, big buttons and shapes on it is laid on the floor in front of the couch where Mumma and Dada are on. 

Daddy lays him on the playmat gently and, much to Harry’s relief, opens the swaddle to let Harry stretch out his limbs. Daddy laughs lightly and runs a hand through Harry’s hair, which is no longer tied by the ribbon. 

“How cute,” Harry hears Mumma say faintly, but he’s too busy checking the playmat out. What purpose does it have? 

Daddy kisses his forehead and pats his cheek. “Be good now and play quietly, little one.” He says, moving to sit next to his spouses on the couch. 

Harry frowns and gives his dummy a suck. How does one play with this stupid thing anyways? Harry sighs and kicks his leg out gently to stretch it once more, only to jolt when his foot kicks one of the buttons. 

Bubbles start forming around Harry with a quiet pop , each a different size and color. Some of them glitter and others have swirls of light inside of them.

Eyes wide, Harry reaches out to a pretty frost-covered one. Instead of popping like he imagined it may do, it sits on his fingertips, rippling like a rubber ball and tickling him.

Harry couldn’t help but giggle slightly, unaware of his audience. The bubble then changes its color to a green, closely resembling his eyes. It starts rotating then, still held in Harry’s hand. 

Suddenly, it pops. As it does so, it releases tiny bubbles that don’t have the same color. The bubbles move to Harry’s hands and face, and starts sliding across the skin to tickle him. 

As Harry laughs, he’s still not aware of his ‘parents’ looking at him with fondness. 

“Here comes the train…!” Mumma exclaims as she feeds him a spoonful of applesauce for lunch. Daddy and Dada have left to run errands, whatever those errands may be, and so Harry is now with Mumma in the informal dining room. 

He’s strapped tightly to a highchair, the straps going all the way from his legs to his chest and shoulders, as if to ‘support’ him and stop his from tumbling forward like one would expect from an actual baby. Still, he does not complain.

It feels weird to be eating something that’s not completely liquid, and his mouth, now unfamiliar with the semi-solid texture of applesauce, does now know how to avoid spilling some of it. 

It’s embarrassing and more than a little bit humiliating to have Mumma use the bib around his neck to clean his flushed chin and cheeks, and even more so when she uses the rubber spoon to collect the dribbles and put it back in his mouth. 

An elf pops then pops in as Mum feeds him the last spoonful, holding a bottle with a purple, lilac-ish substance. The elf says nothing, putting the bottle within Mumma’s reach and then leaving quietly with a bow.

Mumma summons a pack of cold wipes after taking his bib off, wiping his face clean of the sauce. She then picks him up along with the bottle and slowly makes her way back to the living room, where instead of the playmat there’s now a beige and brown baby swing big enough to fit him. 

Before she puts him in the swing, however, she sits down on the couch and cradles him, slipping the bottle’s nipple into his mouth. 

“It’s just some blueberry juice, dove,” she cooes, kissing his forehead. 

Sucking the bottle proves that it is, in fact, not blueberry juice; Harry has had it before when he was younger, stolen from his fat lump of a cousin, and it definitely did not taste like this. 

He whimpers and tries to spit the nipple out, but Mumma doesn’t let him. Her hold on him tightens, and her eyes promise punishment as she speaks next: 

“Don’t you dare, little boy. You will not like it when I put you over my knees.” She hisses, only relaxing her hold when Harry nods fearfully and drinks whatever is in the bottle.

Daddy mentioned potions before, so does that mean that what he’s drinking right now is that? Please, Harry thinks desperately, don’t let it be a potion or something they can control me with. 

Now he understands why she gave him the applesauce after today’s punishment, and he cannot help but hate her for it. 

Sweetening a poison doesn’t make it any less of a poison. 

Chapter Text

Whatever is in that bottle, it is messing with his thoughts; for he thinks of pacifiers, blankets, toys, Dada’s arms wrapped around him, Mumma’s rocking, and Daddy’s voice as he reads him a bedtime story. 

These thoughts are not his own, they should not be his, his kidnappers are dirty and creepy and— he shouldn’t be wondering what it would feel like to play with Dada’s hair; he shouldn’t be wondering whether the collar of Mumma’s dress would taste good or not; and he most definitely shouldn’t be thinking about sucking and playing with Daddy’s long, elegant fingers. 

“... Harry?” 

He turns his green eyes towards Dada, who’s looking at him in concern. Harry whimpers and presses his mittened hands against his eyes to avoid looking at the suddenly too-bright room. 

He hears someone coo and then warm hands pick him up from the swing. They guide his head so that it’s in the crook of their head, where Harry can smell the soothing– when did it become soothing?– cologne that Dada wears most of the time. Dada starts rubbing his back with one hand, bouncing him as they pace the length of the room. 

“Just accept it, little one,” he coos in Harry’s ear, pressing little kisses to his neck. Harry shakes his head and ignores what he says, trying his best to dissuade the new voice, thick and sickly sweet like honey, in his head. 

~ Dada, Daddy, and Mumma know what’s best for you, little Harry~ 

“No!” Harry shrieks, now twisting in Dada’s arms to get away. Surprisingly, Dada doesn’t reprimand him for either shrieking or saying ‘no’ to them. He only continues on cooing sweet nothings in his ear, a hand still rubbing down Harry’s back. 

~Dada, Daddy, and Mumma can take care of you—~ 

“NO!” Harry screeches as loud as he could, pressing his hands against his ears with tears streaming down his cheeks. Suddenly, a hand gently pulls his head from Dada’s neck, and the rim of a vial is pressing to his lips. 

Dada and Daddy wrench his mouth open and force-feed him the vial. Too upset and hyperventilating, Harry doesn’t bother making note of what the potion they fed him tastes like. A second later, another vial of potion is poured down his throat.

It takes a few seconds, but slowly Harry’s muscles and limbs reach a level of relaxation in which they feel too heavy for him to use, and his mind is now warm and full of cotton, no longer filled with that awful sound. Harry hiccups and trembles, and he’s thankful when Dada sits down on the couch with Mumma and Daddy around them. 

“Calm down, dove,” Dada whispers to him in the resounding silence, using a tissue to wipe Harry’s tears away. Besides him, Mumma calls for a house elf, but Harry doesn’t bother listening to what she orders from the elf.

Daddy and Dada rearrange him and his limbs, so that he’s now tucked and cradled against Dada’s chest with his head laying right under Dada’s chin. “This is much better now, isn’t it, little dove?” Dada rhetorically asks him, shushing Harry softly when the boy flinches and whimpers. 

“Here you go, darling,” Mumma coos and places a stuffed cat toy in his arms, a warming charm along with a calming charm placed on it. 

Harry sniffs, smelling the jasmine of the toy, and slowly tries to unfurl himself from his curled position, only to realize that the muscle relaxants which they forced into him are still in effect. The voice is now gone, but the thoughts of accepting these freaks are still on jis mind much to his annoyance.

“That was scary, wasn’t it, little one?” Daddy says sympathetically and starts running his hand through Harry’s hair. 

~Daddy’s arms can protect you–~

S’op,” Harry flinches and begs, ignorant of the way he’s passed to Daddy. Said Daddy casts a spell that Harry has not heard them use before, and all of the sudden the terrible voice in Harry’s head is now gone along with its whispering presence. Daddy starts bouncing his gently, humming sweet nothings to calm him down.

Hopefully, the wretched voice won’t return ever again.

(He has no idea that his torture isn’t even close to ending yet.) 

“Just a little bit more, sweet boy,” Mumma shakes the plastic keys in her hand in front of Harry’s face. They’re now in the nursery, Harry laid on his stomach on a fluffy blanket with Mumma sitting a few feet away from him with a chest of toys next to her. 

“Tummy Time with Mumma,” Daddy had called it when he had put Harry down. 

His muscles and limbs still feel heavy, and sometimes even his mind gets all warm and stuffed. The sensation makes him docile, cuddly, and content, something his ‘parents’ find delight in taking advantage of. He doesn’t know whether it’s the effects of the Calming Draught they had fed him during his earlier freak out, or something else entirely, but either way it scares him how compliant and obedient he becomes.

Like right now. 

Harry whimpers and reaches his arms, what little he can move of them, towards Mumma all the while ignoring the keys. He sucks on his dummy, uncaring of the drool slowly trailing down his chin. 

“Wan’ Mumma,” he says, eyes glazed. Mumma chuckles, delighted, and bundles him up in her arms as she stands up. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time and immediately cuddles into her warm embrace, only calmly watching as she wipes his chin clean. He babbles and coos behind his dummy, reaching curiously with wide eyes to the jeweled collar of Mumma’s dark blue robes. His hands, thankfully, don’t have any mittens on them. 

He doesn’t pay attention to their surroundings as Mumma moves them back into the private study, only playing with the collar. Therefore, he’s surprised when he hears Dada laugh loudly. 

He wiggles in Mumma’s arms until she repositions him so that he can see the other two occupants of the room. He gives Daddy and Dada a bright smile when he finally sees them, eyes zeroing onto Daddy’s long fingers and Dada’s pale hair. 

“Daddy,” he calls, raising his arms up when he gets Daddy’s attention right away. The man grins at him and does as Harry has wished, cradling the boy in his arms as he sits back down. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time, immediately grasping Daddy’s thumb. Daddy, knowing what he’s planning to do, quickly casts a cleaning chame on his hands just as Harry puts the thumb in his mouth. 

Deciding it’s better than the pacifier, Harry closes his eyes and relaxes, still grasping Daddy’s hand. He hears them laugh and coo over him, but he does not bother opening his eyes, instead more than happy to lean back and take a nap. 

Who would’ve thought that he’d like sleeping in their laps so much? 

Chapter Text

Draco Malfoy smiles lightly as he sees Granger sobbing into Weasley’s shoulder in the Library. He’s hiding behind a bookshelf, having heard her muffled sobbing when he had looked for a reference book on Runes. 

It’s been exactly five months since Harry Potter has been declared missing, and Granger and the other Gryffindors still look morose and sick with worry, Weasley and Weaslette along with Granger often looking the worst of the lot. 

The sight of any of them crying nearly has him in stitches with laughter, doubly so when he sometimes spies even the Headmaster looking worse for wear. Of course, the old fool still believes that Voldemort will return, even though the Dark Mark of every single Death Eater completely disappeared on the night Lord Voldemort went to kill the Potters. Draco has no doubt that if Severus still worked here, he’d have multiple memory copies of Dumbleodre throwing temper tantrums that rival a toddler’s. Alas, the Potions Master quit last year, during Draco and Harry’s fourth year. 

When Harry had disappeared, Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa immediately became aware that Order members were watching and stalking them to see if they were the ones who had taken Harry. However, most of the Order don’t know the meaning of subtle or double-checking, which the three Slytherins easily took advantage of.

Illusions, Polyjuice, and repelling wards were only some of the measures they took to fool the Order. Of course, they also made sure not to put Harry in Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, but in Prince Hall in Cheshire. 

Oh yes, Draco thinks maliciously with a grin, cry all you want Granger, he’s no longer yours . He turns and leaves them, his steps now light and happy.

Hmm, he should probably send a letter to his parents as well, if only to check on their progress in regressing Harry, his new little brother. 

On a second thought, he should also send the gift he had bought during Hogsmeade weekend to his brother.

“Wake up, little one,” Mumma coos, trailing her hand down his cheek gently. 

Harry’s nose scrunches up slightly as he awakes, stretching in his swing. He yawns, and then settles, sucking his pacifier calmly. Narcissa is happy to see that his eyes are still glazed over, proving that the potion and spell worked in pushing her Harry into his headspace. Though, they’d have to renew it next week. 

“Had a nice nap, little dove?” She then asks, smiling fondly. Her hand is still on his soft cheek, and her smiles grows as Harry nuzzles her hand. 

“Yeth, Mumma,” he lisps behind his paci, kicking his legs out gently. He rubs his eyes, still slightly sleepy. They must have bathed him while he slept, probably to get rid of all the sweat and tears from before, because he is now wearing a onesie with a bunny on its front and he smells like strawberries. 

“Good boy,” Mumma kisses his forehead and gives him a pretty rattle, and then says, “Now play quietly, little one, while Mumma finishes her work.” 

Harry nods, already distracted, and shakes the rattle, giggling as the little balls in it spin and make a sweet, tinkling sound. He babbles, and then his giggles pick up in volume when Mumma presses a button on the swing and it starts moving. 

Mumma grins and goes back to the catalogue he left on the couch, said catalogue full of pictures of nurseries and cribs. She and her spouses decided on redecorating Harry’s nursery, as they believed that the three months-long punishment probably made Harry hate his nursery. 

Though they’d have to go about getting everything new cautiously, as Severus informed them that Dumbledore still sometimes sends members to stalk them. 

No matter, they won’t take her little boy from her, not with the multitude of spells and curses she and her husbands have in their arsenal. 

“Dada!” Harry suddenly cheers after a while, bringing Mumma out of her thoughts.  

Lucius, Dada, walks into the room carrying a large box and a letter, the box wrapped with pacifier-patterned wrapping paper. He smiles at Harry’s enthusiasm and bends down to kiss forehead. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time and immediately tangles his hands in Dada’s long hair, squealing at how soft and silky it feels. Dada huffs an amused breath and instead of tugging Harry’s hands off, he passes the gift to Mumma and picks his Baby up, cooing all the while.

“What’s this, Lucius?” Mumma questions. 

“Draco has sent a gift for his younger brother through the new letterbox, and he said to give it as soon as possible,” Dada explains, swaying slightly with Harry in his arms. 

Harry babbles something that sounds suspiciously like the word ‘white’, and Mumma delicately unwraps the box and opens it, a smile breaking out on her face right away.  

“Aww, Harry, darling, look what your brother has gotten you!” She pulls out a giant, fluffy baby blue bunny out the box and shows it to Harry, who’s wide eyes are on the toy. 

Harry spits his dummy and points to the bunny, an expression of complete delight on his face. “Bun-bun!” He exclaims, and neither parents reprimands him for throwing the pacifier away. 

“Bun-bun, bun-bun,” he starts chanting desperately until Mumma gives his the bunny, which he then cuddles tightly. 

A flash sounds and they all turn to look at the doorway, where they then see Daddy standing with a wizarding camera, a fond smile on his face. “We ought to frame this one, it’s by far one of my favorites,” he explains, tucking the camera away to kiss Mumma’s cheek in greeting‍.

“Bun-bun, Daddy!” Harry squeals, showing the toy to his Daddy happily. 

“I can see that, little one,” Severus says and chuckles along with his spouses. “Draco sent you that, didn’t he?” 

Harry furrows his eyebrows at the “new” name, swinging his feet gently. “D’a— D’aco?” He tests out, and then grins at the proud looks he gets from them. 

“Yes, sweet boy,” Dada coos. “You’ll meet Draco soon enough, and then we can be a complete, happy family.” 

Chapter Text

“Don’t look so morose, Sirius,” Molly Weasley pats Sirius Black’s shoulder, looking sympathetic. She passes him a cup of tea and sits down on the table in 12 Grimmauld Place, near her husband. 

“How can I not when my Godson is Merlin-knows-where?” Sirius snarls, slamming his cup back down onto its saucer with a brutal clink. Remus Lupin, looking just as bad and sitting next to Sirius, sighs tiredly. 

“We all want to find him, Siri,” he says quietly, threading a hand through his hair. “But being angry is not how we should go about looking for him.” 

“They could be doing anything to him, Moony,” Sirius grits out, earning pitying looks from Molly and Arthur. They are currently going through a list of places where there are many abandoned warehouses and old manors, Dumbledore’s orders, in hopes of finding Harry in one of them. So far no luck, but as much as Sirius loathes to admit it, he hopes that Snivellus has had found at least a trail in the Sussex house that he’d been assigned to search through.

“I know, Padfoot. But we need a clear head if we want to go about this as efficiently as possible.” Remus says, and then takes a sip of his own tea. 

“Moody said that he’ll check on the progress of the Aurors today,” Arthur says idly as he draws a cross in front of the written Malfoy Manor again. “Hopefully they’ve found something we haven’t.” 

As they descend into a conversation about the Ministry’s efforts, Sirius gets lost within his own thoughts, remembering the scene they stumbled into the day his precious Harry got kidnapped.

••It had been terrible, too much blood and guts spilled all over the muggles’ house. Sirius hated them and the way they treated Harry, but he still didn’t wish for them to die in such a barbaric way. Petunia and Vernon Dursley had every bone in their body, including the ears, broken after getting Crucio’ed multiple times. Petunia had the garden equipments embedded in her body, the hand trowel shoved deep to her stomach and intestines and two garden scissors had their sharp points in her eyes. Vernon, on the other hand, now that was a terrible sight. The kidnappers had employed what was called a “blood eagle” on him, a torture method from the older ages. Their son, Dudley, had been killed by getting bashed in the head, probably after being forced to watch his parents die.•••

The muggles’ deaths, along with the knowledge that it is more than likely that Dark wizards had taken his Godson, kept Sirius from having a peaceful sleep. 


“Daddy, Bun-bun p’ay!” Harry giggles, shaking his limbs excitedly about as he lays on the play mat on the floor. His eyes are on the bespelled bunny as it dances around, the spell work courtesy of Dada.

Daddy smiles down at him, blowing a raspberry on his tummy before snapping the buttons of Harry’s onesie shut and vanishing the soiled nappy. Harry shrieks with laughter, blowing his own raspberries at his Daddy. 

Daddy them reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rather unusual dummy, with a rather big nipple that has something red inside of it. He plops it in Harry’s mouth right away, the Baby immediately and eagerly sucking on it without much thought. 

He jolts when he tastes strawberries, and then starts sucking again with vigor, humming and gradually relaxing at the delicious taste. He closes his eyes, and as he feels Bun-bun being put in his arms he hugs it with all his might. 

He hears Mumma cast an Engorgio, and then all of the sudden Bun-bun starts getting bigger and bigger, until he’s well thrice the size of Harry and too heavy for the Baby to hold on his own. Wingardium Leviosa is next cast on the bunny, and then a whimpering Harry is picked up. He then gets his hands put in grey, striped mittens, and afterwards he’s swaddled in a fluffy blanket.

Bun-bun is put down on the floor on his back, and then Daddy puts Harry within Bun-bun’s big and warm arms, right on top of the bunny’s stomach and chest area. Mumma and Daddy spell Bun-bun so that his arms are caged around Harry’s form, in order to make sure that Harry won’t somehow slip off and onto the floor. 

His whimpering now gone, Harry closes and sucks on his dummy mindlessly, falling asleep to the sound of Daddy and Mumma’s comforting voices. 

He’s unaware of the fact that they are discussing changing altering his potion to a more potent version, one that would need to be reapplied only once every two months.

Chapter Text

“Daddy– Daddy,” Harry cries the next day, shivering even with the warm onesie he’s wearing. Hiccuping and sobbing in his highchair, he reaches towards his Daddy, who’s holding a Pepper-Up potions. 

“Drink this for me, little one,” Daddy coos, helping Harry drink the potion. After that is done, he picks the sick Baby up and holds him, gently guiding Harry’s head to the crook of his neck. Harry’s hand, currently not mittened, tangle in his hair and robes, the Baby’s miserable sobbing not ceasing in the slightest. 

Daddy’s heart twinges in pain and worry for his Little, and he sighs as he bounces Harry. “Hush, dove,” he soothes the distressed Little, walking to the bathroom in Harry’s nursery where Dada is preparing a lukewarm bath. 

“Owie, Daddy,” Harry sobs, his cries picking up in volume when Dada and Daddy start taking his clothes off. Once he is naked, they gently put him in the bathtub, both flinching at the wail Harry makes. 

“We’re so sorry, little one,” Dada apologises, kissing Harry’s brow. They make quick work, and after they’re done, Harry’s cries have ceased to whimpers and hiccups that, quite frankly, hurt more than his sobbing did. 

“Come here, my dove,” Dada says softly, picking Harry up and wrapping him in a fluffy towel. They leave Daddy to clean the bathroom, the door still open after them. 

“Noooo,” Harry whimpers and coughs, his eyes now barely open. Dada shushes him gently, making quick work of dressing him in a warm onesie with attached feet and mittens, and on top of that it has buttons at the crotch area for easy access. 

Snapping the last button shut and checking that the mittens won’t slip off, Dada Accio’s a warm, fluffy blanket to swaddle Harry in, sighing when the Baby starts quietly crying again with tears streaming down his soft, flushed cheeks. 

“Dada, p’ease,” Harry whimpers, even though he has no idea what he wants. The light hurts his eyes, his body hurts, his ears hurt, his throat is irritated and it hurts

Dada takes him to the rocking chair and sits down with Harry cradled lovingly in his arms. Right as he sits down, an elf pops in with a bottle of milk in its hand, which the elf gives to Dada before popping away. 

Dada hums softly to Harry, kissing his forehead. “I know it hurts, my dove. Why don’t you try drinking some milk, yes?” He asks rhetorically, guiding the nipple to Harry’s mouth. 

Harry immediately latches on, wiggling a bit before getting comfortable and closing his eyes, finally willing to take a nap. Halfway through the bottle, with Harry dozing and barely aware of his surroundings anymore, Daddy returns. The chair is expanded to make space for Daddy, and Harry listens to their hushed conversation without paying it much attention. 

“—is Cissa?” 

“The blood-traitor attacked him from behind, so she went to scare Dumbledore and the Weasleys and bring Draco back for the weekend. I wanted to go with her, but she refused.” 

“I see. Have you….” 

Harry ignores them after that, not awake enough. Eventually he falls asleep, even if it is fitful.

 “Madame Pomfrey said that you’ll feel sleepy, so let’s tuck you into bed, darling,” Narcissa runs a hand down Draco’s back, kissing his forehead. 

“At least let me greet Father and Papa?” Draco pleads, but he cannot stop yawning halfway as he talks. 

Narcissa smiles and nods, leading him to what he knows to be Harry’s nursery. She opens the door— and the sight that greets them has Draco muffling his laughter with his hand. 

Lucius and Severus are leaning against one another on a… rocking couch? And then he sees Harry, worrying pale with a flush but also very cute wrapped in a blanket, sleeping in Lucius’ lap while sucking on a pacifier. 

“Perhaps you can greet them at another time, darling,” Narcissa chuckles quietly, and then leads him. 

Although sleepy due to the pain potion Madame Pomfrey gave him, Draco still couldn’t help but get slightly excited at the thought of having a little brother who’d look up to him. 

It is the best feeling ever! 

 Harry blinks, confusion clear on his face as he first stares at Draco and then Dada, then once again Draco. He furrows his brows, his sucking on his dummy getting quicker. Finally coming to the conclusion that he doesn’t understand understand why there’re two Dada’s (even if one is small with shorter hair), he whimpers and reaches towards Mumma, shaking when coughs suddenly wreck through him. 

”Poor baby,” Mumma sighs as she cradles him, dunking a clean rag into a bowl of water and, after twisting it to get rid of excess water, putting it on Harry’s forehead. 

“Dove,” Dada— longer hair— coos to him from his place on the giant bed in their bedroom. “That’s Draco, your older brother!” 

Draco grins and moves further into the room, joining Dada’s side. “Hi, Harry,” he beams, and then he pats Harry’s head gently. 

“I know you’re very sick,” Draco says. “So we won’t play until you get better.” 

“D’aco, Bun-bun!” Harry exclaims with a hoarse voice, and then he whines, turning to look at Mumma with wide, pleading eyes and a quivering lip. 

“Bun-bun, Mumma? P’ease?” He asks, and the three occupants of the room nearly melt. 

”Of course, little one. How could I refuse when you ask so nicely?” Narcissa smiles, but before she could Accio the bunny, Daddy walks in holding Bun-bun in his hands. 

Curiously, he’s also wearing his black, formal robes that he only wears when he goes to an Order meeting. 

“He has sent an owl to Malfoy Manor,” is all he gives as an explanation, chuckling at the small cheer from Harry when he’s given his Bun-bun. 

Mumma and Dada nod, and only after giving a kiss to everyone (on the cheeks and forehead for Draco and Harry), does Daddy leave. 

Still, he cannot help but worry; what could the old man be up to now? 

Chapter Text

“Is it safe to bring it home today, Cissa?” Lucius asks Narcissa a while later, Harry in his swing with Draco keeping him entertained. They’re in the Lucius’ private study, discussing whether they should bring… it… back tonight or wait yet. 

“I believe it’d help Harry feel better,” Narcissa murmurs, clasping her hands together. Her robes, pale green with cream accents, flutter slightly with her movement. 

Lucius sighs and nods his head in agreement, smiling slightly when she kisses his cheek. “I shall inform them to bring it home tomorrow,”

“Thank you, my love,”  

“For the last time, Headmaster; I have not seen, nor heard, anything about Potter and wherever he could be,” Severus sneers at the older man and the Weasley family, glaring when his dark eyes meet the grey ones of the Mutt. 

“Hmm,” Albus sighs, pinching the bridge of his crooked nose. “Very well, thank you, Severus. If you do hear anything, please inform me as soon as possible.” 

Severus nods curtly and whips around, his robes billowing behind him. As he leaves, he non-verbally casts a spying and monitoring spell, one of the spells that not even Voldemort could detect. 

As he walks out of Grimmauld Place and apparates to Malfoy Manor, aware of the Elphias Doge following him, the spell works and a piece of parchment appears, writing down who is speaking and what they’re saying. 

He quickly walks to the potions lab, not reacting as the elves remove his black cloak. Appearing in the lab, he sits down and starts reading the parchment.  

What he reads leaves him seething with anger. 

“... and that’s how you hold him,” Dada explains to Draco, the latter holding Harry’s slightly heavy body delicately in his arms. Harry coughs, whining and whimpering, his arms reaching towards Dada. 

“Nu-uh, wan’ Dada,”Harry cries, his wails now picking up in volume as he kicks around in Draco’s arms. Dada sighs and takes the Little from Draco, shushing him gently. He is now truly worried, as the Pepper-Up potion Daddy gave Harry earlier is ineffective.

His little one hiccups, burrowing his teary face into the crook of Dada’s neck as his hands spasm in the mittens, trying to grip Dada’s robes through the cotton fabric. One of the older man’s hands rubs down his back, and the other tangles in his hair, gently holding Harry’s head. 

Harry slumps down, his cries now just plain miserable as his body throbs in pain, particularly his throat. Behind Harry, Draco bites his lip, and starts apologizing.

“Did I hold him wrong, Dad?” He asks, worry clear in his pale, silvery eyes. Lucius coos, to comfort both of his children: 

“No, son,” he says. “You did not hold him wrong or anything of that sort. Your brother is merely sick, that’s all,” 

“Hasn’t Papa given him any medicine yet?” Draco furrows his eyebrows as he asks, clearly confused. 

“He has, but I believe that it’s ineffective due to the Headspace potion. Your Papa probably knows better about it than me, though, so I believe that he’d have a better way of explaining it,” Lucius says, kissing Draco’s forehead. Draco smiles and nods, now relieved to know that he wasn’t the one who causes Harry to start crying. 

Speaking of Harry, he’s still whimpering and hiccuping quietly, but his cries are no longer the same intensity as before. Turning his head while Draco simply changes positions on the bed to see better, they both ‘Awe’ at the sight of Harry— cheeks flushed, eyes teary, and his hair mussed— sucking hungrily on his mitten, a very thin line of drool trailing down his chin. 

“Dippy,” Dada calls, and an elf pops in, bowing. “Prepare a bottle of warm milk for Harry, and bring a bib, too,” 

“Yes, Master Lucius,” Dippy nods vigorously, and popped out.

As they await the elf, Lucius gently tugs the mittened hand out of Harry’s mouth, cooing soothingly when the Baby whines. “Shush, little dove,” he murmurs. “Dippy will come back right away,” 

As he says so, Dippy does indeed pop back in, immediately handing the requested items to Dada before going away. 

Dada lays Harry down momentarily, showing the eager Draco how to tie the bib without hurting Harry. Dada then cradles Harry in his arms and leads the the bottle’s nipple into the Little’s mouth, leaning back against the pillows and the headboard. Draco snuggles beside them, getting comfortable against Dada’s side. 

Harry makes small, quiet snuffles as he drinks, his eyelashes fluttering. He’s much calmer now, the warm milk soothing his throat. 

He closes his eyes and smiles slightly as he feels Bun-Bun being put in his arms, falling asleep to the thump thump of Dada’s arms.

Chapter Text

“My poor baby boy,” Narcissa sighs as she pulls Harry closer to her bosom, gently trailing a finger down his warm cheek.

Her youngest shifts in her arms, sucking lethargically on his paci in his sleep. He mumbles something indistinguishable behind the pink pacifier, huffing a breath afterwards. Every so often, he wiggles in his swaddle, babbling to himself. 

Her words, quiet as they are, cause him to whimper and whine, slowly waking up. His eyelashes flutter, and he yawns wide behind his dummy, squirming some more. 

“Hello, my dove,” Narcissa cooes, bouncing him gently. She unwraps the blanket, chuckling when Harry stretches his limbs right away. 

Settling down, her Baby sighs and cuddles her embrace, sucking on his paci and closing his beautiful eyes once more. Mumma chuckles, and then gently shakes him slightly, so that he may not fall asleep again.

“Nuh, Mumma,” Harry grunts, falling silent due to Mumma’s soothing humming. Said Mumma sets him down on the changing table, expertly taking his onesie and nappy off to clean him. After putting a new, clean nappy on him she dresses him in a set of pyjamas, the hoodie-top white and the bottoms floral-patterned. Then, she puts ankle-length whits socks on him, leaving his soft hands bare. Afterwards, she gives him a white pacifier with a beautiful butterfly on it, the slight drooling charm being the only charm active on it. Lastly, she ties his hair with a pink ribbon, kissing his forehead.

“Let’s go see Daddy, little one,” she whispers to him, mindful of how tired and in pain he still is. She hopes Severus may have some potion or anything of the like to ease her Baby’s pain; seeing him like this makes her heart ache. 

“Owiee,” Harry says hoarsely, coughing. He pinches his eyes shut and tucks his face in the crook of her neck, hands gripping the lapels of her robes. He lays limp and curled in her arms, miserably sucking on his paci. 

Narcissa quickens her pace, sighing in relief as she steps into Severus’ main lab. Her husband is writing down notes in one of his journals, a potion vial on the desk in front of him.  

“Daddeeee,” Harry whines, detaching himself from Mumma and reaching out towards his Daddy. The older man coos and holds him, tutting as he checks Harry’s temperature with a spell. 

“Still not good,” he sighs, and then reaches for the potion. 

“Severus, is this the same dose from before?” Mumma questions, clasping her hands together. 

“No,” Daddy says as he uncorks the bottle. “I have changed the amount of fire seeds so that it wouldn’t react with the moondew in the Headspace potion.” 

Mumma sighs. “I trust you, husband.” She watches worriedly as Daddy, using his fingers, pries Harry’s uncooperative mouth open and sets the pacifier down on the desk, pouring the potion down Harry’s throat. 

Her baby boy whimpers and grimaces at the taste, his lips quivering. “Yuck,” he cries out, tears welling up in his eyes. Before he can start crying though, Daddy stuffs the pacifier back into his mouth. 

Harry sniffs and wipes his eyes, leaning against Daddy’s strong, broad chest once more. His Daddy summons a blanket and wraps it loosely around Harry’s shivering body, laying multiple kisses against the crown of the Little’s forehead. 

“Go get some rest, love,” Severus says to Narcissa, laying back against his own comfortable leather high-back chair. Their Harry is now silent, the potion currently in effect as it soothes the aches in his body slowly. “You need it, Cissa, more than Lucius and I.” 

Mumma bites her lip, but in the end, she concedes, knowing that her baby boy needs her to be at the top of her health. “I shall be in our own rooms, then,” she finally says, expression softening when Harry coughs slightly. Kissing his forehead, she whispers her goodnights to him and then leaves, closing the door silently behind herself. 

Severus cuddles Harry close, murmuring a spell so the chaid could start rocking, similar to the rocking chair in the nursery. A bottle of milk appears on his desk then, a note with Narcissa’s handwriting beside it. 

Lucius said that he didn’t eat his dinner earlier, so please try getting him to drink this. 

“You must be feeling very ill if you missed dinner, little one,” Daddy murmurs, trailing a finger down Harry’s soft cheek. Harry spits the pacifier out, turning his head so that he could place Daddy’s index finger in his mouth. When sucking doesn’t yield the results Harry wants, he whimpers and spits the finger out as well. 

“Here, darling,” Daddy says, placing the nipple of the bottle against Harry’s still open mouth. His Baby immediately takes it, sucking enthusiastically to fill his hungry stomach as soon as possible. 

“How about a bedtime story, hmm?” Daddy smiles slightly, summoning a colorful book. Harry curls into Daddy’s warm body, his eyes heavy but still not completely asleep. 

“One fish, Two fish, Red fish, Blue fish, 

Black fish, Blue fish, Old fish, New fish.” 

Daddy starts, his baritone of a voice soft and smooth and lulling Harry further to sleep. 

“This one has a little car.                   

This one has a little star.

Say! What a lot of fish there are.

Yes. Some are red, and some are blue.

Some are old and some are new.

Some are sad, and some are glad,

And some are very, very bad.

Why are they sad and glad and bad?

I do not know, go ask your dad.” 

Harry giggles sleepily, his hands now tangling in Daddy’s hair and robes. Severus is glad to hear him giggle, proof that this altered potion works so Harry won’t be suffering anymore. 

“Some are thin, and some are fat.

The fat one has a yellow hat.

From there to here,

From here to there,

Funny things are everywhere.

Here are some who like to run.

They run for fun in the hot, hot sun.

Oh me! Oh my! Oh me! oh my!

What a lot of funny things go by.” 

Severus coos during the last bit, bending to kiss Harry’s nose. 

“Some have two feet and some have four.

Some have six feet and some have more.

Where do they come from? I can't say.

But I bet they have come a long, long way.

we see them come, we see them go.

Some are fast. Some are slow.

Some are high. Some are low.

Not one of them is like another.

Don't ask us why, go ask your mother.” 

As he continues, Harry’s body becomes limp and relaxed, and his eyes close, finally falling asleep in his Daddy’s arms. 


“What if they’ve taken him outside the country?” Hermione suddenly asks Ron, her eyes wide. 

Ron flinches, first at the suddenness of her voice and then at the question. “Don’t say that, ‘Mione!” He snarls, fear curling like a ball in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t you think somebody would’ve informed the Headmaster if they crossed the borders?” 

“Be reasonable, Rob,” Hermione rolls her eyes. “There are thousands of ways to go undetected, and there are probably branches of magic that can easily forge new identities and the like that could help with keeping them hidden.” 

“.... perhaps we should tell the Headmaster then? Try to see if he’d send Order members to outside Britain?” Ron asks after a moment, elated to help find his best friend. 

Hermione grins and stands up from the couch in the Common Room, checking the hour. “We still have an hour before curfew, so we better get going.” 

Ron grins right back at her, and so they go. 

Chapter Text

“D’aco!” Harry laughs the next morning, kicking his legs out excitedly. He’s laying on his play mat, one hand holding a pink rattle that tinkles prettily whenever he shakes it. He’s still wearing last night’s clothes, Mumma deciding on changing his clothes after lunch in case he made a mess of himself. 

“ACHOO!” Draco imitates his exaggerated sneezing again, inwardly grinning as Harry dissolves into laughter once more, all traces of sickness gone from his body. 

Harry’s eyes are then drawn to the door, and he squeals as he sees Mumma, Dada, and Daddy all enter, his rattle tinkling madly with all his continuous wiggling. Draco smiles as well, though his smile slips to an annoyed frown when Papa picks him up and holds him on his hip like a toddler. However, he doesn’t protest loudly, instead only huffing a bit as he knows that the toddler treatment is to punish him for staying up late last night without their permission.

“Still in your pyjamas, Draco?” Mumma chuckles, kissing Draco’s blushing cheeks. 

“I was too excited to bother changing, Mum,” he tries to explain, making his voice slightly haughty. Papa and Mum only shake their heads in amusement. 

“Dadaaa,” Harry coos then, content as he watches Dada pull two baby blue levers from the sides of the playmat, crisscrossing them over Harry with a white fish swinging from where they crossed. Along the length of the levers, other toys swing as well, some making tinkling noises much like the rattle, while others changed their colors. 

“Play with these, little one,” Dada smiles down at him, leaning to kiss his cheeks. He and the others laugh as Harry grasps his long hair, giggling loudly at the silky feeling of Dada’s hair as the strands move over his skin. 

Dada moves away and, feeling the loss of the amusing hair, Harry immediately pouts and wiggles around, trying to reach Dada. Ignoring Harry for a single moment, Lucius touches a bright yellow button on the fish, turning it on. 

The action immediately yields favorable results, for Harry’s whining ceases right away, the Baby now entranced and in a daze as he watches the fish swing on its own. Lethargic and eyes half-lidded, Harry sucks on his pacifier, only barely aware of his surroundings. His limbs relax, spreading around him as the smell of lavender drifts over him.

“It worked even better than I thought,” Lucius murmurs to his husband and wife, eyes on the completely entranced Harry and the partially dazed Draco. Their toddler— Draco— is also just as transfixed by the fish as Harry is, however he is still in control of his limbs and is aware of his surroundings. He wiggles from his place on Severus’ hip, reaching out with his hands towards the fish. 

However, before he could get himself out of Papa’s hold, the man himself sets him down beside Harry, draping a blanket over them both. The closer proximity has Draco now completely under the fish’s hold, the boy relaxed and half-lidded the same way Harry is, silent and calm as he watches the pretty, colourful fish swing around along with the other toys. 

“Well, now we know what’ll calm them down right away should they throw a tantrum,” Lucius chuckles, raising an amused eyebrow when Harry starts cooing to the fish, babbling quietly. 

Narcissa smiles, relaxing on the couch with Severus next to her. “You said that it should be used for an hour only?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Lucius says, smirking. His glee is mirrored in the shark-like smiles Narcissa and Severus give him as he continues speaking. “Otherwise they might develop an immunity to the charm and magic that’s in the fish, and we certainly don’t want that.” 

“No,” Severus murmurs. “We certainly don’t.” 


After the hour is done, Narcissa lifts a sleeping Draco from the playmat and takes him back to the Green Room, where Draco’s toddler stuff was kept, including the barriered bed. She and her husbands are more than aware of his habit of staying up late, something dirty he learned to do in Hogwarts, and so each time he returned home they had to reteach him his sleeping schedule through keeping him as their toddler. 

Harry is still awake, quietly blinking the daze away. He grins as Dada picks him up, laughing when the man starts blowing raspberries on his tummy. 

“Pish, Dada!” Harry claps his hands excitedly after he points at the fish, an expression of delight on his face. The two men grin at him proudly, and so he repeats the word many times over, if simply for the subconscious pleasure of making his Daddy and Dada proud. 

“Clever boy,” Daddy coos. 

Our clever boy.” 

Chapter Text

“Such a hungry Baby we’ve got!” Dada laughs lightly, scooping up another spoonful of puréed apples and pumpkins on a plastic spoon. 

Baby Harry opens his mouth the second the spoon is near his mouth, uncaring of the thin dribble of purée going down his chin. His eyes, glazed as they are, are alight with childish delight and awe as he stares at Dada, cooing to the older man. Even with the bib around his neck, orange splashes of purée still cover the wrists of his white hoodie along with his cheeks. 

Out of curiosity, Mumma asks, “Say, Luc, what’d he do if you refused to feed him?” She still has not forgotten the first two months of his new life, how he did not care whether he had eaten or not, something that he picked from the Dursleys’ loving care. Her precious Baby had already been too thin, and even away from those monsters he still did not allow himself to he rid of their rules and treatment. 

But no matter, her Baby is now with her and her husbands, not with those monstrous Muggles. She ought to keep herself in check– no use getting angry over dead insects, after all.

A whimper drags her away from her thoughts, so she turns back to Lucius and Harry, the former now having cast an invisibility spell on the spoon and purée. 

Her Harry, however, is pouting with his hands reached towards where the jar was before, tears glistening in his eyes. Kicking the highchair, Harry lets out a shrill cry, clearly still hungry, and bangs his hands on the tray of attached to his seat. 

“Hush, little one, there’s no need to cry,” Dada coos, dropping the spell and showing the food and its spoon to Harry. Quickly, he scoops up some of the purée and plops it inside Harry’s mouth, cutting the cries off. 

Harry happily swallows it, wiping his tears away using his sleeves and making himself even more dirty. Dada and Mumma chuckle, exchanging a fond glance. 

Calmly, they continue eating their lunch, the air light and comfortable. 


“I’ll wash him, Cissa. You go prepare the clothes,” Lucius says says to Narcissa, picking Harry up from the highchair after taking the dirt bib off. His hunger now sated, their darling Harry lays comfortably against Dada’s chest, his hands clutching the lapels of the man’s robes. 

“Very well,” although her answer is soft-toned, her eyes hold an eager, slightly crazed glint, and her steps are a bit faster than they usually are. 

Dada chuckles at her retreating figure, before he sharply calls out: “Tilly!” 

An elf, wringing its hands fearfully, pops in and bows, not looking up from the floor. “Yes, Master? How may Tilly serve Master?” 

Dada does not bother looking at Tilly, instead smiling at the quiet cooing noises Harry makes subconsciously. “Prepare the Baby’s bath, Tilly, and make sure that the vanity in Harry’s nursery is prepared.” 

Tilly nods her head vigorously, her ears flopping around. “Yes, Master, Tilly be doing so right away!” She pops away then, leaving the blond and raven-haired ‘child’ together. 

“Let us make haste, sweet girl ,” Dada coos, much to Harry’s muddled confusion. Is Dada talking to him or somebody else? But Harry is a boy, isn’t he? This is the first time they’ve used girl, so who are they talking about? 

Dada takes him— her?— to the bathroom in Harry’s nursery, the white tub filled with pink bubbles while the smell of jasmine emitted throughout the gigantic room. 

Three big, fluffy towels are set on the marble sink, so Dada takes one of them and spreads it on the sparkling floor, laying Harry down to take his clothes off. 

Harry giggles as Dada does so, blowing raspberries on the sensitive parts of Harry’s body. Finally, he’s naked as the day he was born and is placed inside the big tub. 

Dada washes him gently and carefully, a gentle smile on his lips as he watches Harry play around with the pink bubbles. At last, they’re done and Dada is taking Harry out of the tub, immediately wrapping him in another fluffy towel. 

“Are you two done?” Mumma suddenly says from behind the door, startling Harry while Dada merely gives a fond sigh. 

“We’re done now, dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. Mumma then barges into the room, eagerly taking Harry into her arms without giving much attention to Dada. She coos to him all the while as she lays him on the changing table, excitement clear on her face. 

Harry giggles at her happiness, shivering slightly when she takes the towel away after drying him. “Now, baby girl—” Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he frowns, they called him a girl again! “Today we’ll be playing in the gardens, and since it has snowed last night, we need to get you all bundled up!” She coos, pinching his cheeks before she summons his already prepared clothes.

She begins by putting a simple white onesie on him, one that had feet but no attached mittens. Unlike his other onesies, this one was a lot more thicker than usual. 

Then, she brings a warm, long-sleeved, striped black and white shirt, a grin on her face as she dresses him in it. Finally, much to his shock, she puts a yellow suspender skirt on him, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in the fabric with her hands. 

Harry whines, pouting as she starts cooing over him once more. He does not want to wear these girly clothes! Harry fusses, kicking his legs angrily to avoid the black winter boots she’s trying to make him wear. 

“No, no, no nononono no , Mumma!” He finally screeches, ripping his left foot away from her enthusiastic hands. 

For a single second, Mumma is stunned into silence, her mouth slightly open and eyes a tad wide. But soon enough, the second passes and she glares at him, cold and furious, nearly gritting her teeth as her gaze leaves her Baby trembling in fear on the changing table. 

“I don't think you understand yet, my precious little baby, but when I call you baby girl , you are, in fact, a baby girl for as long as I wish it. You will be referred to as her, because I said so, and you will not answer to any other pronunciation, do you understand, little girl? 

Still afraid and terrified, Harry does not nod or answer her. Immediately, Mumma gets near her Baby’s face, her grasp tight on Harry’s chin. “I said,” Narcissa nearly hisses. “Do you understand, little girl ?” 

Quickly, Harry nods, a sob immediately making its way out of his— her?— mouth. Mumma does not comfort her, instead calmly lacing up the warm boots. From one of the drawers in the table, she brings forth a diamond-studded pacifier, plopping it in Harry’s mouth after casting the charm that made it impossible for anyone other than her and her husbands to remove the paci. 

“Say Mumma, princess,” she coos to her frightened baby girl, picking Harry up and swaying her gently after placing yellow mittens on her soft, sensitive hands.

Afraid of the consequences of not doing so, Harry complies right away. “Mum— Mumma,” she whimpers, her eyes widening and tearing up at how delicate her voice has become. 

Her Mumma, predictable as she is, only gushes fondly over her Harry. And stupidly, Harry kicks Mumma in her arm.


“That’s enough, little girl,” Daddy cooes, bouncing Harry. They’re in the snow-covered gardens now, and Harry is crying into Daddy’s shoulder, her cheeksflushed from the slight cold that penetrates even the wards. 

“Daddeee,” he– she whines, pressing closer to Daddy when Mumma’s eyes turn to her, still feeling the pain in her spanked backside. Just what made her hit Mumma so stupidly like that!? 

“You shouldn’t have kicked Mumma, princess.” Daddy sighs, waving his wand so that little butterflies would form from the snow to flutter around Harry.  

Harry sniffs, wiping her eyes with the mittens before looking at the butterflies, hesitantly reaching towards one of them. The animated snow lays on her hand for a second before traveling up her arm to her face, rubbing itself against Harry’s nose. 

Harry giggles wetly, trying to take a swipe at the little creature. More surround him, and soon the gardens are filled with his and Draco’s laughter, the latter attempting to “teach” his Dad how to make a snowman with no apparent success. 

“Having fun, sweet girl?” Daddy chuckles, threading a hand through Harry’s soft hair. Harry only continues giggling, clapping her hands as the butterflies make circles around her.

Severus is smiling along with his spouses at the endearing sound, but his mind is still wondering on the issue of Harry’s Headspace potion, for it was supposed to make Harry agreeable to everything they did to him, and yet today, according to Narcissa, has proved otherwise. 

Has the altered Pepper-Up messed with the Headspace potion? If so, how much has it changed? Just exactly what is Harry’s mindset currently like? He has many more questions, but those are the most pressing. 

Of course, this means that he has to do further experiments and note-taking, but hopefully he’ll find an answer to this conundrum soon enough.

Chapter Text

Harry whines as Dada changes her nappy, as grouchy and grumpy as can be. Her face is slightly damp from the snow butterflies, and so Dada uses a tissue to clean her face as well. Earlier, Daddy passed her to Dada after Draco demanded that Papa help him make another snowman, and so Dada halfway through her playing with her butterflies decided to go inside to check on her nappy.

Instead of putting the skirt back on her, Dada takes off the shirt and then the white onesie, changing her into another pair of long-sleeved pyjamas which had ‘isn’t she lovely?’ written on it in cursive. 

Seeing the confused look on his daughter’s face, Dada says: “You’ve played enough in the snow, sweet girl. We are a bit worried that you might get sick again, and we certainly don’t want that, do we?” He cooes, frowning when Harry’s lips quiver. 

“What’s the matter, baby girl?” He asks softly, quickly tying her matching mittens before picking her up.  

“S’ow, Dada, wan’ S’ow,” Harry whines, pouting at her Dada. Said man only shakes his head firmly, saying: 

“No, sweetheart. You’ve played long enough there, and Little Girls do not whine.” Dada hums, ignoring her whining; she’s probably sleepy, and so she’s becoming cranky and annoyed. 

He gets out of the nursery, still cradling Harry safely, and takes her to his private study, where a bassinet with wheels is situated next to his own chair behind the desk. Kissing her forehead, Dada sets her down inside the bassinet with all of its fluffy blankets and pillows, giving her her precious Bun-Bun. 

“Bun-Bun!” Harry giggles drowsily, her earlier grouchiness forgotten in favor of hugging her toy bunny. Dada chuckles and drapes a blanket over her until it reaches her chin, stroking her hair for a while before taking his hand away. 

Harry stays awake for quite some time, waiting for her bottle without making a sound, except it doesn’t come, no matter how long she waits with Bun-Bun in her arms. Too drowsy to fuss or cry for her bottle, she falls asleep still hungry, unaware of Dada moving her back to her nursery.

At about 5:30 in the evening, an hour into Harry’s nap, they hear a wail reverberating throughout the house, coming straight from Harry’s nursery. 


Narcissa immediately jumps up and races to the room, banging the door open to see her baby girl crying her eyes out and the blanket unwrapped. Bun-Bun has been thrown out of the crib, lying uselessly on the carpeted floor. 

She moves to Harry, picking the crying Baby up right away. Narcissa cooes to her with no use, and a quick look at Harry’s diaper shows that her little girl hasn’t used it. 

“What could be wrong with you, little dove?” She sighs, bouncing Harry when the little one’s sobs pick up in volume. Cradling her gently, Narcissa gets out of the nursery, and as she makes her way to the living room where her husbands and toddler are, she thumbs away Harry’s tears.

As she does so, Harry clumsily grasps Narcissa’s hand and puts her thumb in her mouth, sucking on the appendages. Discovering that the fingers hold no milk, Harry throws her hand away and cries again, face blotchy and eyes puffy. 

“Hungry, are you?” Mumma says sympathetically, calling for one of the elves as she rounds inside the living room, ordering it to prepare a bottle immediately.  

“Mama, Mama,” Harry sobs out, and with her delicate voice ‘Mumma’ sounds more like ‘Mama’. The Baby tries to grip Mumma’s robes, but the mittens make nigh possible to do so. 

“Mum?” Draco questions from his place by Lucius’ side, a grin on his face. “May I feed him— her , please? Dad showed me how to hold her already,” he pleads quietly, and then cheers quietly when she nods, a bit hesitant but nonetheless proud of how easily Draco’s taken with Harry. 

“Wait until he’s a bit calmer, Dragon,” Narcissa smiles, sighing in relief once the elf pops in with the bottle and the bib. Quickly and efficiently she ties the bib and gives Harry to Draco, the former’s cries cutting off at the unfamiliar smell of Draco. Draco holds her tenderly, Papa helping him fix the position of Harry’s head a bit before they’re good to go.

That second that Harry’s cries lessen, Draco puts the nipple against Harry’s mouth and laughs when she hungrily takes it, sucking eagerly. 

Slowly, she falls back asleep, nuzzling Draco. A flash sounds, and Draco along with Dad and Mum turn to Papa, the man smirking as he looks at the wizarding camera in his hands. 

Feeling eyes on him, Severus raises his head, raising an eyebrow at the way everyone (sans Harry) is staring at him. “What?” He asks, getting quiet laugh in returns. 

As he’s about to ask again, Lucius take his chin and kisses him, still chuckling. 

Although still a bit confused, Severus decides not to ask again and instead smiles into the kiss. 

They’re, unfortunately, unaware of an intruder planning his attack. 

Chapter Text

The next day, a chilly Sunday, two hours after lunch, Harry is sleeping in his crib in the nursery. He is on his stomach, his cheek squished against the blanket under him while one of his arms is wrapped around Bun-Bun. The windows are closed, the fireplace burning away merrily to keep Harry all cozy and warm. 

He’s, thankfully, their baby boy once more, and so his mind feels a lot more at ease compared to yesterday. He shifts, cuddling into Bun-Bun’s soft fur with a content sigh from behind his dummy.

An alarm, loud and sudden, blares throughout the entirety of Prince Hall, and it wakes Harry up right way, the Little frightened beyond belief. 

As he opens his mouth to cry, a clammy hand clamps down on his throat, and all Harry can do is release a frightened squeak. While the alarm continues blaring, the intruder curses and swears, and seconds later their wand lights up the room with a loudly stated Lumos. 

Peter Pettigrew’s ugly, snivelling face comes into view, and Harry actually screams so loud he’s pretty sure the windows broke. 

A crash sounds outside his nursery, and Pettigrew leans over him; the smell of his breath has Harry’s stomach rolling and clenching in disgust. A waterfall of tears stream down Harry’s face, and Pettigrew smiles, showing his rotten teeth. 

“Whoever found you has been promised a hefty amount of Galleons, Harry. Isn’t that exciting?” He wheezes, but then wrinkles his face in disgust. “Though why you’re dresses in these sick garbs I have no idea—” 

Another crash sounds just right outside the door, and said door is suddenly burst open, Daddy standing there with a glower on his face as he points his wand right at Pettigrew. 

Petrified, Harry sobs as the rat rips his hand away from the boy’s throat to face Severus head on, leaving light scratches on his delicate skin. Daddy’s scowl becomes even angrier, and he does not waste any time before throwing a Petrificus Totalus at Pettigrew. “Get away from him!” He snarls, wand shooting sparks.

Just barely, Pettigrew manages to dodge the spell, laughing like a maniac. “Never thought you’d be into this nasty stuff, Snivellus, but then again it’s you so I’m not that—” while the idiot talks, Severus sends a vicious and angry Sectumsempra, cleanly cutting the man’s legs off from just above his knees, sending him crashing down on the floor with a disgusting shliick sound. 

“I. Will. Never. Grant. You. Such. Mercy.” Severus grits out when the rat tries to kill himself with an Avada Kedavra, the Potions Master using an Expelliarmus to take Wormtail’s wand and then Stunning him right there in his own blood. Just in case, he also cuts off the man’s arms. 

“Dad— Daddy, Dadd yy ,” he then turns to Harry immediately, uncaring of the cut on his face to hold Harry tightly. His baby sobs, voice hoarse and body curled in Daddy’s arms. His hands tangle in the black robes, his crying not tapering off. 

“Hush, my dove. I’m so sorry you had to see that,” he cooes, threading a hand through Harry’s hair. Harry does not respond, whimpering still. 

Severus sighs and banishes the mess that is Pettigrew’s body to the dungeons, where he knows Lucius and Narcissa have thrown the other intruders into. He bounces Harry, cooing all the while as his heartbeat finally settles back; he’d been bloody terrified of losing either Harry or Draco, and he had nearly tripped more than once the second he had heard Harry’s frightened screech. Narcissa and Lucius had immediately pushed him in the direction of Harry’s nursery since he was the closest to the door, Narcissa shielding Draco while Lucius dealt with the three intruders with Narcissa aiding him. 

“Let’s get out of here, sweet boy,” he says softly, and as he leaves Narcissa and Lucius appear, Draco trembling in the folds of Lucius’ robes but not crying anymore. Lucius appears fine aside from a small bruise on his cheekbone, and Narcissa has scratches along her hands and forearms. They both gasp as they see him, Narcissa’s hand immediately moving to the cut. 

“Severus–” she begins, but cuts herself off as she notices how how distressed Harry is becoming. 

“To our bedroom.” She says firmly, and they don’t waste another second as they move.


“Calm down, sweet boy,” Daddy coos to Harry after Mumma fixes his face, resulting in Harry being even more distressed, bouncing him im his arms. Harry has refused to get out of Daddy’s arms, and so far nothing the others did made him change his mind. 

His scratches have been healed already courtesy of Mumma, but even as she treated him he refused to move from his place in Daddy’s arms. In fact, seeing Mumma heal Daddy had made him even more distressed, and any attempt at covering his eyes had Harry screeching like a banshee.

“Daddy,” Harry whimpers, pressing closer. Daddy sighs in worry, but also tightens his hold, pressing kisses to the crown of Harry’s forehead. 

“We’ve got to change you, sweet boy,” Daddy says, setting Harry down on the changing table the elves brought in after they woke up from the forced sleep the intruders put them in. 

Harry cries right away, only settling slightly when Dada comes and gives him his paci. Daddy changes him quickly into a warm yellow onesie, throwing the other blood-covered one away to be burned later. 

Once he’s changed, Harry immediately settles back in Daddy’s arms, burrowing himself against the man’s chest. 

“We ought to go to sleep,” Mumma whispers, crading her hand through Draco’s hair, who is alseep after she gave him some Dreamless Sleep. 

“What about the wards?” Dada asks, kissing Harry’s forehead. He and Daddy sit side by side on the bed, shoulders rubbing together slightly. 

“I fixed the tear they created in them, and I’ll add an Animagus one tomorrow,” Daddy says tiredly, and then cooes to Harry when their Baby whimpers, settling him back down. 

“And Draco?” Daddy then asks Mumma and Dada, summoning Harry’s blanket to swaddle him in it. Harry hums happily, eyes half-lidded as he attempts to ignore Morpheus’ call.

“The shock of the whole mess made him snap out of his Headspace,” Mumma sighs, frustration colouring her tone. “He said he’ll go back to school tomorrow after breakfast since he has no class until the afternoon.” 

“He’s not traumatized, Sev,” Dada comforts Daddy. “As the Heir of the Malfoy line, he’s already been taught what to do in situations like this, and the only reason why he was clinging to me was because he was in his Headspace.”

Daddy nods, now a bit more mollified. 

“N-no s’eep, Daddy,” Harry murmurs behind his dummy, whining. 

“Hush, dove, Daddy is here and the bad men are gone,” Daddy soothes him, kissing his forehead and patting his bum. 

“You’re completely safe now, little one.”

Chapter Text

“Da— Daddeee,” Harry sobs from his highchair during breakfast the next morning, face flushed red and tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“Where’s Sev, Mother?” Draco asks, sympathetic as he stares at Harry. He shakes a rattle for Harry, but the baby does not respond to it at all like he usually does. 

“He and your Father went to check on the wards again, just in case,” Mumma says, sighing. She sets Harry’s plastic spoon down to unlatch the highchair tray and then unstrap her boy, picking him up. 

Harry curls into her body and lays his head on her shoulder, still sobbing. His hands, currently not mittened, grasp her robes tightly. Mumma bounces gently, but he does not let up on his crying no matter what she does. 

“Hush, my love, it’s alright now,” she cooes to him, just as Daddy walks inside with Dada in tow. 

“DADDY!” Harry struggles in her hold until she gives him to Daddy, where he immediately settles down and cuddles into Daddy’s robes, wiping his tears roughly with a fist. 

“Stop crying, dove,” Daddy cooes. “Daddy’s right here.” He kisses Harry’s forehead, and unnoticeable to Harry, nods to Mumma. 

“How about you and I have some breakfast, hmm? A little birdie told me you haven’t had anything yet,” Daddy smiles down at him, and Harry babbles happily, one hand holding tightly to Daddy’s robes. 

Much to Harry’s relief, Daddy does not place him in the highchair. Instead, Daddy sits down on a chair, bringing Harry’s breakfast from the highchair to the table. Spooning some banana purée, he begins feeding Harry, whom is happy and content now that he’s in Daddy’s arms. 


“No,” Harry pouts, holding tightly to Daddy. 

“Daddy will be right here,” Daddy says calmly, not wavering to Harry’s adorable pout as he sets his baby down on his stomach on the playmat to have his Tummy Time. 

Harry kicks his legs out in slight petulance, “glaring” at the fluffy playmat. His eyes then stray to Daddy, watching as the man moves to the wingback chair behind his desk after setting a bunch of colorful toys in front of Harry. The boy is glad to know that Daddy will be in his peripheral vision, not out of sight. 

Picking up a rattle, Harry gives it a shake, giggling from behind his dummy as it tinkles. His hands then reach for a set of rubber, multi-colored… fruits (?) tied in a chain formation. The fruits are pleasantly cool to the touch, and Harry being curious as to whether they taste like actual fruits, he places the peach look alike in his mouth and chews on it. 

Immediately, the sweet, cool flavor of peaches bursts on his tongue, and Harry can’t help but squeal happily, now chewing with vigor and ignorant to the spit drooling down his chin. However, he still keeps an eye on Daddy, ready to cry the second it looks like the older man may leave him. 

He absentmindedly asks himself where Mumma and Dada could be, because after breakfast they left somewhere. But no matter, if they did not return soon enough, he’s going to cry for them; Harry simply refuses to lose either one of his family. 

Chapter Text

All morning, Harry stays with Daddy, crying occasionally whenever the men gets out of his sight or when his thoughts stray to Dada and Mumma, who do not return until just an hour before lunch. 

Mumma is smiling, and she bends down to kiss his cheeks, carding a hand through his hair. Harry kicks his legs out in excitement from his place in the swing, still holding on to the fruit chain. “Hello, my dove,” she cooes, unstrapping him. “How was your day with Daddy?” 

Harry simply squeals and grabs her pretty earrings, nestling himself comfortably in her arms. The second he notices Daddy trying to get out, however, he whimpers and drops the chain, a loud cry emitting from him. 

Mumma bounces him, sighing. “Calm down, little one,” she says desperately, but much to her worry and sadness he only calms down when he’s within Daddy’s arms again, teary eyes staring at her and Dada.  

Dada sighs frustratedly, sitting down on the couch. “She’ll be there tomorrow, Severus,” he informs Daddy, calling for an elf to bring him a headache potion. 

“And the Cabin?” Daddy then asks, sitting down next to Dada, Harry tightly clinging to his robes but looking at Dada. 

“It’s in perfect condition, our rooms are already prepared and the kitchens are fully stocked,” Dada says, smiling at Harry to ease him. “We only needed to decorate Harry’s nursery and fill in his wardrobe and other necessities.” 

Ignoring their conversation, Harry reaches one hand out to Dada, grasping his collar. Dada raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything in order not to scare Harry away. 

“When will we be able to leave?” Daddy asks, stroking Harry’s hair. 

“Tonight would be good, I believe, and Draco already knows what he has to do,” Mumma says, smiling softly, and their conversation ends there.


The rest of the day isn’t easy; Harry cries and nearly hyperventilates every time Daddy steps out of his sight, and his crying only stops when he’s encased in Daddy’s arms. His bottles, along with dinner are fed to him also by Daddy, and he doesn’t even let anyone but Daddy wash him. 

Thankfully, he does let Mumma and Dada hold and change so as long Daddy stays in his sight, and he only takes a nap once, in the swing. During that nap, Severus had to go and quickly pack all of his potions and potions ingredients and move them to the Cabin along with Narcissa and Lucius, who brought their own stuff along with Harry’s belongings. The elves were also moving what Severus ordered them to move.

Harry wakes up from his nap after dinner earlier than usual due to a nightmare, and so until they finish moving everything, Harry stays in Daddy’s arms, sucking miserably on his dummy and trying to forget his awful nightmare. 

Due to Harry’s refusal to even get out of his arms, Daddy is forced to step aside and merely watch as the last of their belongings is moved to the Cabin. He decides to set Harry down on the fluffy rug in the living room, summoning a diaper and some wipes to clean Harry. 

While he does that, the last of their stuff is moved. Dada and Mumma stay with him while he changes Harry, and after he’s done they tell him that everything is now ready. Mumma is the first to Floo out to the Cabin, and then it’s Daddy and Harry’s turn. 

“Hold on tightly, dove,” Daddy tells Harry, pressing Harry’s face to the crook of his neck as they Floo to the Cabin. 

Once they’re out of the fireplace, Harry whimpers, frightened at the awful feeling of Floo travelling. Daddy shushes him, cooing. 

“Look around, darling. This is our new home!” He whispers excitedly to Harry, in hopes of distracting him. 

It works: Harry raises his head up and looks around, eyes wide as he stares at the giant Cabin interior. “‘Ome?” He asks, looking at Dada.

“Yes, love, this is home,” he says, opening his arms invitingly. Harry is about to refuse immediately, but then he sees the desperation and want in Dada’s eyes and can’t help but feel slightly sad and guilty for the way he’s been ignoring them. 

Harry reaches out toward Dada, snuggling in his arms when the man happily takes him from Daddy. He giggles when Dada bounces him, playing with the man’s robes collar.  “Dada,” Harry cooes, nuzzling his neck and making himself comfortable. 

Dada moves to the couch and sits down, Harry cradled safely in his arms. He Accio’s a pretty rattle, and shakes it in Harry’s face. His baby giggles and claps his hands, delighted by the sound the rattle makes.

Unknown to Harry, Daddy and Mumma smile and kiss, both hoping that with tomorrow’s arrival, things would become better.


Chapter Text

Harry snuggles into his portable crib, cheek squished against his pillow as he sleeps contently. His breath is deep and even, and the blanket he’s swaddled in is soft and warm. 

Suddenly, much to his annoyance, he feels someone pick him. Harry grunts and grumbles, still not opening his eyes as cuddles into the person’s warm embrace, ignoring their quiet chuckles. 

“You’ve already slept a lot more than normal, little one,” Mumma whispers softly into his ear, not disturbing the quiet in the Master Bedroom. “It’s time to wake up, sweetheart.” 

She places him down in the middle of her and her husbands’ bed, kissing his forehead gently. Harry’s face scrunches up, but he still refuses to open his eyes. 

Mumma opens the swaddle, and Harry slowly stretches his limbs out, attempting to roll over upon his stomach to continue sleeping. 

“Ah— no, no, no more sleeping,” Mumma stops him, and then she starts taking his clothes off, her movements gentle and loving. When he’s naked— and slowly opening his eyes— she changes his dirty nappy as well. 

Now in a clean diaper and more awake, Harry calmly watches as she begins dressing him in a bear onesie, wiggling his toes in the feet of the onesie happily. Mumma blows raspberries on his tummy as she dresses, causing Harry to giggle sleepily. 

“My little cub,” she cooes once she’s done, pinching his reddened cheek gently. Harry smiles up at her, and when she picks him up he snuggles close to her, babbling happily. His hands play with the collar of her maroon robes. 

“There’s a surprise waiting for you downstairs, my dove,” she says to him with a smile, patting his bum. 

Harry looks at her curiously, his thumb in his mouth. “Mumma?” He asks, wondering what she could be talking about. “Go Daddy?”

“You’ll like it a lot, I assure you. And yes, my dove, Daddy is there,” Mumma bounces him for a few seconds before they descend down the stairs and into the living room, where Dada and Daddy awaited them. 

“Good morning, happy boy,” Daddy greets him first, kissing Harry’s forehead as Dada kisses his cheek. 

“Daddy,” Harry cooes, latching himself onto the man and holding on to the voluminous robes. He babbles his happy dream to Daddy with a smile, kicking his legs out contently. 

“Oh really?” Daddy asks amusedly as he “listens” to Harry, now settled on the couch. Mumma also sits beside them, while Dada goes off to who knows where. 

“Yeth, Daddy. S’owwww,” Harry says with ‘snow’ with a drawl, giggling when Daddy presses his nose with the tip of his index finger.  

“And what else, little one?” Mumma asks, smiling. Unbeknownst to Harry, his “parents” are happy and joyed to see him so full of energy again compared to yesterday. 

Harry’s face scrunches up, apparently deep in thought. “Nana!” 

Daddy and Mumma exchange a look, confused. “What do you mean, baby boy?” 

“Yummy nana, Mumma,” 

Daddy makes a noise of understanding from the back of his throat. “Yummy banana?” 

“Yeth, Daddy,” Harry nods, smiling again. 

“Would you like some bananas for breakfast today, darling?” 

Harry nods again just as Dada enters again, catching their immediate attention.

Much to Harry’s shock, the biggest cat that he's seen yet walks beside Dada’s legs, its fur white and grey. 

Harry whimpers quietly as Dada and the cat walk further inside, pressing back against Daddy’s chest. Distantly, he remembers a ... dog chasing him when he was younger, but the thought is far out of his reach. 

“Harry,” Dada starts. “This is Celeste, isn’t she beautiful?” 

But Harry doesn't hear him, tears now gathering in the corner of his eyes as Daddy sets him down in his stomach on the play mat. 

“Daddeee,” Harry whines, wiggling around frantically. Daddy sits down next to him, placing his hand on Harry’s back. 

“You’ll be fine, little one,” he cooes, as the cat hesitantly walks over to them. “She will protect you, Harry.”  

Their Baby whimpers again, a soft sob making its way out of his throat as the huge cat reaches him. For a few seconds, Celeste merely stares at him and his tears, and then she meows, pressing herself to his body and purring deep from her chest. 

At first, Harry cries and wiggles, until he feels her wrap herself around him partially and continue purring, now butting his chin with her nose. She meows soothingly, noticing that her charge is slowly calming down. 

Harry sniffles, wiping his tears with his sleeve before looking at Celeste again. She calmly watches over him, her tail swishing contently. She continues purring, and Harry cannot help but relax further in her soft body, less afraid then he was before. 

“I imagined that it would’ve been harder than this,” Dada whispers to his spouses, watching along with them as the magical Maine Coon easily calmed their Harry down. The only difference between a non-magical Maine Coon and a magical one is that the latter has a tendency of becoming violent real quick to whatever their charge considers a danger. 

Hopefully, she’d help keep their Baby as safe as possible.



Chapter Text

heHarry shrieks with laughter as Celeste, once more, drags her furry body across his naked legs and feet.  

The giant Maine Coon purrs and curls herself around him comfortably, her face close to his. Giggling, Harry smiles at her before swiping at the toys hanging from the two levers of his playmat, cooing and babbling happily. 

Feeling playful, Celeste also bats at them along with Harry, occasionally licking Harry’s cheeks. 

Harry’s ‘parents’ sit on the couch, wrapped up in each other. They watch with smiles as Harry and his new protector play, vehemently putting the thought of the Headspace potion out of their minds. 

“He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?” Dada says, threading his hand through Mumma’s hair while Mumma has an arm wrapped around Daddy.

“He has.” Mumma chuckles. “Remember how nervous we were when we first got him?” 

“Oh, yes,” Daddy grumbles. “I remember it perfectly, especially the condition he was in.” 


“Are we ready? Severus, you have your healing kit, correct?” 

Severus nods determinedly, “Yes, Cissa, I do. Have you and Lucius brought the ward stone?” 

She nods as well, “Yes, Lucius is just checking the supplies once again and then we’ll go.” 

At the mention of his name, Lucius walks into the parlor of Prince Hall wearing the same black, dueling robes as his spouses.

For  years they’ve been searching high and low, Severus keeping an eye on Hogwarts’ students while Lucius discreetly searched through Ministry Achieves and Narcissa kept an ear during her tea time with her friends, and it was all just to find someone they could call their, as the Muggles named them, Little.

The idea of treating someone most certainly not an actual baby like one was something Narcissa had whispered into his ear one night, two years before the Dark Lord’s fall. It had sounded strange, absurd, at first to Lucius but Narcissa was persistent, her whispers often creating a desirable image in his mind. By the time Severus joined them in both their bed and relationship, Lucius was also on board with the thought of having a Little looking up at them to care of him or her.

Much to their shock and pleasure, Severus himself was already aware of such a... lifestyle; although nobody was aware of it, Severus often went out to exclusive clubs and the like in the Muggle world that catered to the more delicate kinks, and so he was no stranger to Lucius and Narcissa’s wants; in fact, he further encouraged it as the control element in the lifestyle drew him in. 

The main issue, however, was finding said Little; for a long time, no teenager they gazed upon caught their attention in the slightest— that was, until Draco’s First year.

The second Severus caught sight of those jem-like green eyes, he was a goner; his first thoughts were about immediately informing Narcissa and Lucius, and he did not even care about James Potter’ features in the boy. That night, after he sent a letter to his loves, he also sent a vial of memories of the boy, to show them what he saw. 

Although very adorable, they waited for a long time to see whether anybody else would catch their interest before they finally, formally, chose Harry. Of course, then came the spying, which wasn’t easy considering the few Order members protecting that wretched family’s plain house and totally ignorant of the pain and starvation their baby went through.

But no matter. Tonight, on a warm July night, they’re finally getting him home. Mundungus Fletcher is supposed to be watching the house, but sadly, he’s currently busy dealing and trading with people of questionable backgrounds in Knockturn Alley. And so, it is the perfect time for them to act. 

“Let us go, there’s no use in dwelling around unnecessarily.” Lucius says with determination and eagerness matching that of Severus and Narcissa, and so they apparate to Privet Drive. 

Silencing and Disillusioning themselves, they make their way to non-warded house, where Lucius upon nearing the porch places the now activated ward stone in the bushes, erecting an unseen dome around the house. 

Now, nobody outside of the dome would hear or see anything from inside the dome. 

Silently, Narcissa unlocks the front door and steps inside, her husbands following behind. Although her wand is itching to curse the Muggles black and blue, she’s more interested in finally, finally, holding her baby boy. 

She and her husbands make their way up the stairs and to Harry’s locked room quickly, a silent Alohomora used multiple times to have all the locks opened. Immediately, Lucius tenses and Severus grits his teeth in anger. 

Their precious baby is curled on a tiny mattress sleeping in too large, hold-ridden clothes. Ugly, yellow faded bruises dotted his skin in several places, and he looks too thin to be healthy. 

Right away, Severus pushes forwards and begins searching through the kit, pulling out a particularly strong Dreamless Sleep first thing since Harry is beginning to stir. That’d ensure to keep their little one asleep for the next 20 hours. Then he begins loading pain-relievers and healing potions into Harry, while the other two, now hungry for revenge, go to the bedrooms to play with the Dursleys’ dreams. 

Of course, it is nothing compared to the fun they’ve planned for the Dursleys, but then again there’s nothing wrong with warming up before they truly begin, right?

Kissing Harry’s forehead gently, Severus grins savagely to himself. No, there’s nothing with that.

6 hours. 

That’s how long they played with the Durselys before finally killing them, their Harry asleep and unaware upstairs. 

“A Scourgify, and then we’re leaving,” Narcissa mutters, her two men agreeing. 

Everything now done and dealt with, she eagerly goes back upstairs to her baby. Murmuring and casting the featherlight charm on Harry, she happily picks the sleeping boy up and squeezes him fondly. 

“Oh, my little one,” she cooes, her husbands watching affectionately. “You shall have the best life with us.”   

Chapter Text

Bah!” Harry exclaims delightfully, squirming happily in Mumma’s arms. The woman smiles down at him and rocks the chair, cradling her Harry against her bosom. His hands reach for the wide sleeves of her robes, tugging and twisting his fingers in the fabric. 

“Such a good boy,” she praises him, and holds up a brown-tinged bottle for him. “How about a treat, hmm?” 

The first suck of the bottle has Harry going wide-eyed, and then he begins sucking more enthusiastically, a hand laying over Mumma’s. He nestles himself inside Mumma’s warm embrace, only grumbling once when she loosely swaddles him. 

The door of the nursery, which Mumma left ajar, slowly opens to admit Celeste inside, the Maine Coon watching her feed Harry with sharp eyes. She walks completely inside, pausing in front of the rocking chair to simply sit back and gaze at them. 

Harry’s eyes now have slipped shut, his cheek pressed against Mumma’s warm skin as he slowly fell asleep in her arms. His cheeks bulged slightly as he drank, content clear on his face. 

“What a pretty babe,” Mumma cooes quietly, kissing her baby’s forehead. She then chuckles to herself, “If only you were this calm during your first feeding.”


”Let me  go!” Harry is shouting the afternoon he wakes up, angry, embarrassed tears sliding down his reddened cheeks in a steady stream. Her precious baby is freaking out, has been freaking out for over three hours now, and he does not appear to be calming down anytime soon. 

”Please! Professor— I—” he stutters and attempts to talk from his immobilized place in Lucius’ lap, but the man only shushes while Severus just gives him a small, warm smile.  

“Come now, little one,” Narcissa cooes softly, wiping his tears with a handkerchief and ignoring his violent flinch. “Be good for Dada.” 

Harry’s beautiful eyes, wild and afraid, widen further when he hears the title, his mouth opening to insult them or perhaps demand his freedom. 

Except he does neither. 

Lucius, the sly Snake, took the chance to place the— oh, God no—  bottle’s nipple inside his mouth.  

He glares at them angrily, beyond humiliated at the way they treat him. Still, he does not suck on the bottle, cringing at the barest taste of the milk. His actions, however, displease the three former Slytherins greatly, for Narcissa  snarls and reaches out to pinch his nose, cutting off his air. 

He literally begs them with his eyes not to follow with this even as his face slowly purples from the lack of oxygen, and only when dark spots start appearing in his vision does he, with a great amount of shame and difficulty begins sucking on the disgusting liquid. 

Throughout his choking ordeal, Professor Snape’s face is emotionless and cold, Lady Malfoy firm and unrelenting, while Malfoy Senior is smug. But as soon as he starts sucking, they... ease up a bit, Lady Malfoy’s hand still on his cheek as a warning. 

Tears of humiliation drip down his eyes, but the three do not relent. 

Stuck with them in this unknown place, being forced to drink milk and dress like a baby, all Harry can think about is his Godfather and Remus’ warm, protective embrace. 

“How adorable,” Snape murmurs to himself, and Harry cannot help but feel his eyes sting with more tears. 

He wants to be as far away as possible from these three sick persons.


”Sleep well, my love,” Mumma cooes and places him inside the crib, tightening the swaddle. She puts a charmed paci in his mouth and kisses his forehead. 

Curiously, she watches as Celeste nimbly jumps up to the crib’s railings and then inside the crib, curling herself near Harry after nuzzling his face for a bit. 

Narcissa dims the lights and then leaves, going to Lucius’ new study where her men are waiting for her. Entering, she kisses them both before she sits down, a glass of wine floating over to her. 

She takes a sip, and then asks: “So what did Greyback say?” 

Lucius and Severus give her matching, cold grins. “He said he’ll take care of his wayward wolf soon, so as long as we supply his pack with the potions they need. Severus says the potions are pretty easy make; they’re your normal fever potions, sleep potions and the like,” Lucius says. 

“And my mutt of a cousin?” 

“We’ll have Greyback capture him as well, and then we’ll deal with him in the Prince Hall dungeons along with the other prisoners. Finally, I’ll get to... play with him,” Severus this time answers, twirling a Gringotts key in his hand. He has a pleased grin on his face. 

“They’re still alive?” She asks, humored and in an even greater mood than before. 

“The elves have been giving them enough food and water to survive until we get rid of them,” Lucius chuckles, and then asks, “Is Celeste with Harry?” 

Narcissa’s expression softens, fondness clear in her gaze. “Oh yes! She taking a nap with him in the nursery. Truly, she’s a natural at taking care of him!” 

Chapter Text

“Stay away from me!” Harry screams the next day, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and further accentuating his flushed face and wild eyes. 

“Sweetheart—” Severus tries to reach further to the crib where Harry is crouching with Celeste, the Maine Coon hissing at them whenever they try getting close. 

Like now. 

“NO!” Harry screeches and throws the closest thing to him at the man and his spouses, which turns out to be a fluffy pillow that doesn’t even hit its mark(s). 

Harry wants Sirius, wants Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, wants Remus’ warmth and he wants Headmaster Dumbledore’s advice. He just wants away from these monsters, who somehow managed to force him to become something that he is not.

“Harry James!” Lucius snaps, finally reaching his short limit. “That is enough !” His loud, sharp voice cuts through Harry’s ‘tantrum’, causing the boy to look at them with wide, fear-filled eyes. 

“No, no, no,” Harry whimpers and begins sobbing, desperation and sheer panic causing him to claw at his face and arms and tug on his hair without a care to the damage he’s doing. Immediately, Celeste and his ‘parents’ rush over to him, the cat expertly and forcefully pushing his hands away. 

Narcissa, who’s previous expression of annoyance and anger has melted to one of extreme worry, summons a pair of extra thick mittens to tie around Harry’s hands regardless of however much her baby struggles. Celeste, on the other hand, is helf back from attacking by Lucius.

“Calm down, dearest,” shee cooes, Harry flinching as she begins running a hand down his back. When Lucius and Severus step closer, he sobs out protests and pleas, but neither of the three bother listening. 

“This should help with the scratches,” Severus mumbles to himself, gently slathering some ointment in the cuts on Harry’s cheeks. Celeste finally manages to get out of Lucius’ arms by scratching him and hissing, immediately rushing to force Harry out of Narcissa’s arms. 

Frowning, the woman sets Harry back down in the crib, where the boy curls up and begins rocking. Much to their ire, he begins murmuring and begging for Black and Lupin, not once looking at his ‘parents’. Celeste, after giving them a very angry glare, jumps up to lay in front of Harry protectively. 

“Cissy, Sev,” Lucius says with a whisper. “Perhaps we should return when Celeste is sleeping and Harry is calmer? In the meantime, we’ll have the elves watch him carefully.” 

Although a bit hesitant, the two agree, casting wary and worried glances at their baby boy. Still, they do have to think up of a new routine that’d help Harry settled back into his role without the usage of potions and drugs.  


“That was a tiring episode, wasn’t it, my Harry?” Dadd— Snape hums to him, swaying with the freshly diapered Harry in his arms. Harry has tears in his eyes and bile in the back of his throat, clearly disgusted and humiliated by his own control on his body. Or lack of, more like. Unfortunately for Harry, the three have somehow lured Celeste out of his room

‘Le’ guh,” Harry tries to plead from behind the charmed dummy, a thin trail of drool dripping down his chin, but the Potions Master merely ignores him. 

“Can you say Daddy, little one?” He asks softly, sitting down on the living room couch with Harry cradled in his arms. With a thumb, he swipes away some of the drool. 

Seeing Harry turn away from him in disgust with his cheeks flushed bright red, Severus tries a different approach: 

“If Harry doesn’t misbehave for his Mumma and Daddies and listens like a good boy to what they say, then he’ll be rewarded handsomely!” He says mock-excitedly, knowing Harry is listening. “But if he doesn’t listen and he misbehaves, then his parents will have no other choice than to punish him! Maybe they’ll use the Snow Room, or maybe they’ll bring out the paddle—” 

“Daddy,” Harry whimpers in fright, cuddling into the man’s voluminous robes. His stomach turns and churns from fear and repugnance. “P’ease no spankies, no S’now R-Room, Daddy.” 

Smirking victoriously, Severus kisses Harry’s forehead. “So as long as Harry’s a good boy, he won’t be punished.” 

Chapter Text

“Oh no, little one, there’s no need to cry!” Lucius kisses Harry’s forehead, the boy sobbing softly, brokenly, into the man's chest. Lucius sways gently, but the motion doesn’t soothe Harry any. 

“We’ll just cuddle for a bit, alright?” He cooes to the distraught ‘baby’, going over to the rocking chair. Much to Harry’ shock, a flick of Lucius’ wand has the man naked from the waist up.

Not even reacting to Harry’s shock, the blond presses Harry against himself and his bared chest as close as possible. Harry tries to move away, but Lucius’ hold is tight enough that eventually, Harry admits defeat and slumps tiredly into the man’s arms. He’s disgusted, he’s freaked out, but beyond all he’s just so tired .

“They say skin-to-skin contact is good for babies, my Harry,” Lucius muses to himself, nuzzling Harry’s soft hair and smelling the vanilla shampoo they use on their boy. Harry whimpers, his tears finally coming to a stop due to sheer confusion. Unfortunately for Harry, Lucius takes it the wrong way and beams, cuddling Harry closer. 

Harry wants to scream and yell, to demand to be with literally anybody other than these three, but he knows that he’ll only end up punished. Still, he cannot help but ask for Celeste. “Da– Dada,” he says weakly, “Want Celeste,” he begs quietly, lips quivering when the man shakes his head with pursed lips. 

“No, Harry. This is a quiet time for Baby and Dada only; you can have Celeste later, once she’s awake,” he says firmly, Accio’ing a dummy. He quickly plops it in Harry’s mouth, not giving Harry the chance to beg and plead some more. 

Harry whimpers, but he knows better than to answer. He’s already on thin ice, no need to worsen his situation even more. 


“Remus, I can’t take this anymore!” Sirius shouts hysterically, throwing his wand as hard as he can against the wall of the warehouse they’re in.

Another failure, another place they searched with no lead or anything to help them. 

Remus, who’s barely in a better state than him, sighs. “I know, Sirius,” He says, defeated and tired.

“I—…. miss him so much,” Sirius sobs, falling to the floor. His smacks his fisted hands against the worn floorboards, frustrated and worried beyond belief for his beloved Godson. 

Just where could Harry be? 

As they ponder these dark thoughts, they miss smelling a foul, familiar scent. 


“How do you feel, baby boy?” Mum— Narcissa cooes to him, sitting cross legged in front of him. She takes a rattle and waves it gently in front of him, the toy tinkling. 

Harry growls and glares, curling up on his stomach after turning away from her. Angrily and absentmindedly, he sucks on his knuckles, only noticing his actions when Narcissa and Severus, who got in about a minute ago, chuckle at him. 

He rips his fisted hand away from his face, blushing and stomach revolting at how they’ve managed to condition him even without drugging him. Harry knows that he really isn’t that strong, nor that smart (the proof being Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia’s shoutings and mutterings, respectively) but must he really be this pathetic?

Deep in self-loathing notions, Harry jolts when the plastic nipple of a syrup covered paci is pressed to his lips, instinctively opening his mouth even though somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks about how he shouldn’t be doing it.

The first thing he tastes is the sweet flavor of strawberries, and then he cannot help but continue sucking, his tensed muscles relaxing and the angry thoughts in his head finally flying away. He sighs happily, mind slipping right back into his Headspace, where Mumma, Dada, and Daddy are his protectors.

“Mama,” he cooes, much to their surprised delight. Giggling, his hands eagerly reach for the rattle, blowing a happy raspberry for Daddy when the man gives the toy to him. “P’ay!” 

“You wish to play, my little one?” Mama croons, grinning as an idea hits her. “How about a little tea party, hmm? Daddy and Dada can be our invited Lords, and my baby boy can be my baby girl!” 

Unbeknownst to Harry, Daddy shoots Mama a panicked, pleading look. She merely smiles and kisses Harry’s happy face, particularly his cheeks. 

Harry claps and smiles widely.

“And no black clothes are allowed.”

Chapter Text

Much to the ‘parents’ annoyance, Harry stays in his Headspace for about two hours before he resurfaces with a frightened cry. 

“Calm, my dear,” Narcissa cooes as she sways him, Harry tucked in her arms. Inwardly, she’s seething; she wanted to have her baby girl, but unfortunately she’ll have to wait until Harry is calmer. 

“No!” Harry sobs frustratedly, trying to unlodge himself from her steel-like grip. Somewhere, he hears Celeste growl loudly before she jumps at Narcissa, causing the woman to gasp and drop Harry. 

Harry yelps, but he’s thankfully dropped onto the soft blanket of his playpen. While Narcissa attempts to dislodge Celeste without hurting herself or the Maine Coon, Harry, with aching and slow limbs, crawls to a corner of the playpen, hugging his knees. 

Celeste runs over to him once she’s done with Narcissa, licking his tears off his cheek and purring as she wraps herself around him. Harry, terrified of Narcissa’s reaction, closes his eyes in fear as he awaits her punishment. 

He is, understandably, blindsided when he hears a soft sniff from her. 

Harry’s head snaps up to look at her, only to see her dab at the corner of her eye and flee out of the room with fast strides. 

Harry hates himself a little more than usual when a part of him is concerned and wants her back. 


As the rest of the day continues on, Harry is surprised to see that they all leave him completely alone aside from putting a milk bottle in front of him during lunch silently before leaving him with Celeste. Harry doesn’t drink it, because he has no idea how to hold it with silk mittens and out of fear as well. 

As equally as he’s surprised, he’s also… uncomfortable, to say the least. It feels unnatural and weird not to be the centre of their attention anymore, especially since Narcissa does not return after Celeste attacked her. 

Halfway nearing the evening, a flash of lightning lights up the room and seconds later angry thunder follows. Harry flinches from his place with Celeste wrapped around him, a whimper sounding from his throat. 

The room is empty, his stomach is empty, and even with Celeste wrapped around him Harry still feels cold and alone and— he wants them, wants Daddy, Mama, and Dada even if they’re manipulative bastards. 

(He’s not even in that stupid Headspace where everything is soft and warm, and yet he’s still calling them by those names. Lovely.) 

Harry sniffs and whimpers, tears of frustrating (at himself) and longing (for his parents) sliding down his cheeks and a soft sob coming out of his throat. Celeste meows loudly, worriedly, as the sound of footsteps becomes clear. 

Snape walks in, and although he must have heard Harry’s cries, he does not appear worried like he usually would at the sound. He does not even look at Celeste when the Maine Coon hisses at him, claws extended in warning. 

“Up please, Daddy,” Harry whimpers, a blush blooming on his cheeks as he raises his arms up. His breath stutters when Sna— Daddy shakes his head, an eyebrow raised. 

“Why should I do that, Potter ?” The use of his last name in that tone snaps Harry’s attention up unlike anything else. “You have fought this… treatment every single step of the way, why should I hold you now when you refused to be held just this morning?” 

Harry’s stunned and silent but he refuses to let the man’s words affect him. “Because this is sick!” He snaps at Snape, feeling tired as the man doesn’t even appear bothered. 

“Is it, really? Tell me you haven’t been relaxing; tell me you haven’t been getting fed regularly; tell that you’d rather be with the Dursleys.” At the name, Harry flinches back with a frightened sob, but Snape does not stop. 

“Where do you think Dumbledore will send you to should he find you, huh Potter? I can assure you it certainly won’t be with Black and Lupin. And speaking of those two, don’t you think they would’ve found you by now, Harry? Both have an enhanced smelling ability and both are talented with charms and spells. Surely they would’ve found you by now— unless they haven’t even tried .” 

Snape picks his trembling body after his speech, and much to Harry’s confused emotions, kisses his forehead gently. “We will go and have a snack now, because Daddy knows you haven’t drunk your milk, but I want you to think carefully about what I said, Harry.” 

Harry simply nods, mind and heart warring with each other. 

Chapter Text

“They don’t want me anymore,” Harry sobs into the pillow inside his crib, curled up. He’s trembling, feeling cold from both the thinness of his onesie and the realization he’s had. 

After his snack, Snape left him in his nursery to either sort out his thoughts or take a nap. Harry had done the former, and he’s now reaping the ‘benefits’. 

Footsteps sound from outside the nursery before the aforementioned man comes back inside, now looking worried. “What’s wrong, my Harry?” He asks rhetorically, picking the boy up and wrapping him in a blanket as he moves to the rocking chair. His tone is soft, so unlike before.

Harry wails his betrayal into the man’s broad shoulder, grasping the dark robes. He curls up and doesn’t react as Snape’s hand begins patting down his back, too busy crying his heart out. 

“Oh, little one,” Snape sighs, kissing Harry’s forehead when Harry turns his head. He stares down at Harry’s tear-streaked cheeks, a concerned frown on his face. With a gentle hand, he wipes away the fat tears and hums, letting the vibrations of his chest soothe the boy further. 

“How about we go and see Mama, yes?” He murmurs, summoning the shrinked Bun-Bun to his person to give to Harry. The boy doesn’t protest as the stuffed bunny is dropped into his arms, merely sniffing. 


“Cissy? Luc?” Snape calls out as he opens the door of their chambers, Harry now silent but occasionally . 

“Sev?” Narcissa wonders, her features blanking upon catching sight of Harry. Noticing this, Harry whimpers. He knows that if he has more tears to give, he’d be tearing up right now, but his reserves are more than well dry now. 

I cannot lose her as well, Harry thinks frantically to himself, no longer caring about his pride as he leans towards her and opens his arms, calling for her pleadingly. 

“Please, Mama, don’t go,” he says, not bothering to hide the longing, desperation, and fear in his voice. “ Please .” 

Narcissa’s cold resolve immediately breaks and she strides forward, taking Harry and his Bun-Bun into her arms. She sways him gently, sharing an unseen (by Harry) smirk with Severus. 

“Mama is not going unless you wish her to, little one,” she cooes, patting his back. Harry cuddles with Bun-Bun absentmindedly, subconsciously bringing Bun-Bun’s fluffy ear to his mouth to suck on it as if it’s a paci. He’s only aware of his actions when Narcissa and Severus tut, the blond woman Summoning a dummy and plopping it in Harry’s mouth even if he twists his face in disgust. 

“Mama has missed her little boy a lot today, but she’s glad to see him behaving like a good boy once more,” Narcissa says as she and Severus sit down on a couch, cuddled together with Harry cradled in her arms. The woman kisses his forehead and cheeks, chuckling at his blush. 

Harry doesn’t say anything, content to draw heat from her body. When thunder strikes outside and he flinches, he’s comforted by the soft blanket from before, Bun-Bun, and the two spouses’ soothing touches and words. 

A small part of him wonders where Lucius could be, but he doesn’t pay it much thought; his mind is still on Sirius and Remus, and their inability to find him. 

Chapter Text

“Come here, my Harry,” Mam— Narcissa says a while later as she takes him out of his swing, a frown on her face. “Why didn’t you say you were cold, baby? Mama saw you shivering earlier,” she asks, laying him on a changing mat on the floor to take off his thin onesie and replace it with a warm, navy footed one. She leaves his hands encased in creme mittens (probably still worried he’s going to scratch himself again). 

Harry sighs, finally feeling his shivers subside. He opens his eyes when he hears Celeste meow loudly before rushing for him, curling around him protectively and hissing at Narcissa. 

“Noo,” Harry drawls out slightly with a whine, not wanting Celeste to push Ma— Narcissa away. Celeste stops, but her gaze stays alert and aware as Narcissa slowly picks Harry up again. 

Harry does not really cuddle her, but he doesn’t shy away from her touch either. She’s noticed how cold he was and immediately got into action, which is more than what Remus and Sirius had done for him even when he was begging to stay with them for the summer. Treating her with a little respect isn’t that wrong, is it? 

“Would you like to get back in the swing, my love, or stay with Mama?” Narcissa cooes, giving Harry an eskimo kiss. 

“Stay?” Harry asks with a quiet pleading, blushing. He’s still so emotionally wrought out, and he doesn’t want to be away from any if his ‘parents’ even if he knows what they’re doing is wrong .

“Of course, dear. Come, Celeste,” She says and then gets out of the living room to the master bedroom, where she puts Harry on the bed after warding. 

Celeste jumps up onto the bed as well and cages Harry protectively with her body, beginning to groom him. 

“Sweet dreams, little one,” Narcissa whispers softly as she kisses Harry’s forehead. The boy blinks one last, slow time before sighing and sinking into the soft blankets on the king sized bed, Celeste wrapped protectively around him as she occasionally nuzzles his soft hair. Narcissa herself is beside the two, watching them with fondness. 

She smiles and runs a hand through his hair, smiling when Harry nudges her hand to get closer to her. Taking out her wand and casting a heavy sleeping spell, she picks him up. Celeste follows her as she makes her way to the Floo, not even looking at least bothered after the Floo spits them out back in Prince Hall. Harry whimpers in her arms at the motion, but a small hush from her soothes him. 

She briskly walks down to the dungeons with Celeste at her heels, a small smirk pulling at her lips. 

Oh yes, she’s waited for this for a long time. 



“Hello, Black,” Lucius smirked down at the bound man, a low, mad laugh bubbling inside his chest as the animagus stared around with wild eyes. 

“We’ve waited a long time for this,” Lucius hisses, and delighted with the man’s horrified and alarmed expression, he hits Blackms stomach as hard as he can with the sharp head of his cane. 

Finally, Lucius thinks to himself. We’re finally getting rid of him. 

Chapter Text

Harry’s day starts out terribly, his gums aching a dull sort of pain and he himself in the throes of a strange nightmare in which Sirius is being tortured right in front of him. 


Pushing his dream into the back of his mind, Harry whimpers and struggles to get his swaddle off his body. As the pain grows, so does Harry’s frustration until finally, Narcissa enters the room in a hurry. 


“Grouchy already?” She asks with an amused smile, nuzzling Harry’s hair; the boy whines, immediately reaching to press his hand against his mouth once he’s free of the swaddle. 


“Hurts,” he whimpers to the woman, who doesn’t bat an eye as she lays Harry down on the changing table. 


“Here, have your paci,” she says instead, and expertly changes Harry into dinosaur patterned onesie. Harry, too pained to really think about anything else other than his gums and teeth, doesn’t protest against Narcissa. 


“I’m sure it’s nothing, little one,” The woman pats Harry’s tummy and smiles down at him gently. 


“We’ll only worry if the ache continues.” 



“You will never see him again, Black.” 


Sirius gasped and heaved, spitting blood out unto the concrete floor. With blurry eyes, he looked up at the sight of Harry— dressed in infants’ clothes with a pacifier in his mouth— curled in his cousin’s arms. 


“What have you done to HIM!?”  



“My poor boy, just open your mouth, yeah?” Severus cooes to the distraught boy crying in his swing. Harry’s hand is his mouth, pressing to his gums harshly in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain on them. Tears stream down his cheeks, and he doesn’t answer Severus at all.


“This should help,” Lucius says as he enters the room once more, a silicone teething ring dipped in some clear liquid held in his hand. He quickly takes Harry out of the swing and settles him in his arms, sitting on the couch next to Severus. 


“Here, baby boy,” Lucius, with a grimace, takes Harry’s hand out of his mouth. Harry sobs and kicks around, but when the cold teething ring is slipped past his lips and presses against his aching gums, he stops. 


He sniffs, making a confused noise in the back of his throat. The coldness and the numbing agent on the ring immediately lessen his pain, so Harry sighs and settles down. When he attempts to clutch the ring however, he’s dismayed to realize that he cannot grip it regardless of however much he tries. 


He wants to get out of the man’s arms and be alone with the ring, dammit!


“You can’t hold it by yourself, baby,” Lucius and Severus chide him, the former cuddling Harry tighter in his arms. “Just let Dada hold it for you, alright?” 


Harry glares at them and rips his mouth away from the ring, all of yesterday’s worries out of his mind. “No!” 


Lucius raises an eyebrow at the reply, but he doesn’t say anything much to Harry’s confusion. Except, he realizes why as the pain returns with a vengeance. 


Harry cries out in pain, and even though Lucius sighs, he still gives the ring back to Harry. “See, little one? Daddy, Mama, and Dada will still take care of you even when you’re icky and in pain.” 



“Why, Black, we’re simply taking care of him,” 


Sirius feels sick and disgusted, and fear curls in his stomach as he watches Harry sleep comfortably in Narcissa’s arms, murmuring what sounds suspiciously like ‘Mama’ in his sleep. 


Lucius hits him one more time with the cane before Snivellous gets near him with a vial. 


“Do you see this potion, Black? I’ll be giving it to you in a second but before that, how about a bit of history on it? 


“I made it during the war, at the request of my Lord. Your brother died because of this, and now you’re going to join him. Isn’t that such a nice thought?” 


Sirius fights as much as his restraints allow, but in the end he’s forced to succumb and have the potion poured down his throat. 


Just a second before the potion takes effect, he sees Harry’s eyes— bleary and unfocused from sleep— open up and the boy smiling dazedly at his captors. 





“Are you content, baby boy?” Severus later cooes to Harry, who’s now in his arms while Narcissa took Lucius away to deal with some errands. 


Harry blinks lethargically up at the man as the last of the ring’s gel is rubbed on his gums, the pain now long since gone. Still, the cold ring feels extremely nice, so he keeps it. 


Severhs chuckles and nuzzles Harry’s hair; truthfully speaking, while at first they did find Harry beautiful, they didn’t anticipate how possessive and protective (in their own way) they’d be over him. But they welcomed those feelings without a problem. 


“How about trying your Headspace, hmm?” He asks the boy, bouncing him when Harry whimpers and shakes his head. While that happens, Celeste enters and makes a beeline for Harry. For a moment, she simply watches them before shrinking in size until she’s the size of a kitten, and then she jumps into Harry’s arms to cuddle her charge. 


“I promise you, Harry, nothing bad will happen to you,” Severus continues to try, discreetly bringing his wand out to cast soothing music. The potions master kisses the boy’s forehead, humming gently. “You’ll be perfectly safe, baby boy,” 


Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath; he doesn’t want to do it, but he feels so warm and nice and his teeth no longer hurt, that he cannot help but allow the music and the warmth to push him into that place where everything is nice and fuzzy. 

“Daddy,” he cooes, blinking up at the man. Severus grins down at him and begins kissing all over his face, bringing a quiet giggle from Harry as his hands move to pet Celeste.


“Our good boy~.” 

Chapter Text

“Do you like your walker, sweetie?” Mama cooes and kisses Harry’s cheek, grinning at the happy gurgle she gets in response. 

Harry kicks and stretches his little feet, toes barely touching the floor. He squeals and giggles when Mama reaches to playfully tug and tickle his covered feet, growing excited as Mama takes his mittens off. 

He smacks his hands on the multitude of toys embedded in the tray, watching and listening curiously at all the colors and the sounds the toys make. “Mama,” he calls, pressing a button that has the tray making chirping sound much like that of a bird. “Wook!” 

“What animal makes that sound, baby boy?” Mama asks, sitting down on the couch. Harry smiles up and her and exclaims, 


Mama laughs, and then Dada and Daddy walk into the room, both flushed and Daddy fixing the collar of his casual robes while Dada is buttoning his own robes. 

“Such a smart boy,” she cooes, not paying either men attention. “How about we try the other sounds, yeah?” 


“Pretty baby,” Daddy croons to Harry, the naked and freshly washed boy clinging to the man’s robes. “All nice and clean now, aren’t you?” 

He wraps his Harry in a huge, fluffy towel and dries him off after setting him down on the changing table. Harry giggles as the man cleans inbetween his toes, but then turns to look confusedly at his Daddy when the man turns him onto his stomach. 

“‘Abby?” Harry mumbles, words slurred and muffls. 

“Hush, little one,” Daddy pats his back, kissing the nape of his neck. “Daddy is just going to massage you for a bit, alright?” 

Something slick and peachy-smelling is dripped upon the skin of Harry’s back, and it causes the boy to squirm even with Daddy’s hand gently pressing him down. 

Daddy begins the massage, and as he slowly works the decently sized knots in Harry’s back, the boy begins to relax and become pliable, eyes slipping shut but not falling asleep. 

Daddy is soon done, cleaning his hands with a scourgify before taping a nappy on Harry and then changing him into a white onesie and some baby blue pants with feet. 

“Are you asleep, little one?” He lifts Harry up, and it’s then that Harry cracks his eyes open, giving his Daddy a lazy, content smile. 

“We go, Daddy?” he stretches, leaning comfortably against the man’s firm chest and sighing happily. 

“Yes, my Harry,” Daddy chuckles, nuzzling Harry’s soft hair. “We’ll go to the living room so that you may have some Tummy Time while Mama, Dada and Daddy watch over you.” 

And that’s, indeed what they do, Harry stretched out on a humongous pillow on his stomach with a multitude of toys surrounding him while his parents occasionally swap chaste kisses and work on their own individual things. 

Chapter Text

“Are you happy? Oh yes, you are !” Dada cooes to Harry, the boy smiling with crinkled eyes up at the man from his place in a nest of blankets on the chair. They’re in the patio, the wards around the property making the area less cold that it actually is. Previously, he was in Mama’s lap but the woman sat him down after kissing his forehead to come and drag Daddy out of the potions lab.

“Look here, baby boy,” Dada brings Harry back to the present, a grin on his face. Dada waves his wand, and suddenly a huge ball of fire appears, encased in a rippling bubble. 

Harry jolts and whimpers, immediately reaching up to Dada. “Up, p’ease,” He whines, fearfully staring at the fire even though he cannot even feel any heat coming from it. “Up, Dada!” 

Dada complies right away, crooning to soothe the trembling boy. “It’s alright, little one,” he rushes to explain, taking the thickest blanket and loosely wrapping it around Harry. “The bubble won’t allow the fire to hurt us. See?” He touches the bubble, and true to his words, nothing happens. Still, Harry doesn’t loosen his grip on his Dada, whining into the crook of his neck when the man attempts to put him back down. 

“Nuh wanna,” He mumbles.

Dada chuckles fondly, swaying. It is then that Mama and Daddy return, Daddy grumbling but Mama smiling. “Oh, what happened?” She asks, pushing the fire a bit more to the left before she sits by Dada. Daddy joins them a second later after taking his outer work robe off. 

“He got a bit scared of the fire, I reckon,” Dada explains, turning Harry around so that the boy is facing Mama and Daddy. 

“Aww,” Mama cooes. “Dada surprised you, didn’t he? Well, let’s turn that frown upside down, yes? C’mere, sweetie, Mama has a treat for you, since you’ve been such a good boy today,” 

She takes Harry and cradles him, Harry humming and making himself comfortable in her arms. His hands eagerly move to the collar of her robes, and his cheeks flush a pale pink when she kisses his forehead. Opening his mouth and closing his eyes, he accepts his bottle, only to immediately open his eyes in excitement once he tastes the strawberry flavored milk. 

His parents laugh, but too happy with his treat, Harry doesn’t pay them any attention. He only reacts when Celeste comes, shrinking herself until she can fit by his side, and his only reaction is a happy wiggle. 

“Give him for bit, won’t you?” Severus muses once Harry’s done with his bottle and asleep. The potions master’s hand runs through the boy’s hair, chuckling when Harry, much like a kitten, nudges his head further into his hand. 

Suddenly, a howl sounds throughout the area, and a few moments later red sparks shoot up into the sky. Harry squirms when he hears the howl, but settles down quickly when Severus rubs down his back. 

“Ah, Greyback must have finished Lupin,” Lucius chuckles, sharing victorious grins with his husband and wife. “I do so hope he had fun with him.”

Albus Dumbledore has never felt quite as hopeless and worried as he does now, staring at the newspapers and their headlines. 

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin found dead! 

He has already read it more than three times, but the reality of the situation hasn’t really sunk in yet. 

First, Harry is kidnapped, and now two of those searching for him are dead. By who? He has no idea. 

Albus contemplates calling Severus— and oh, if he still wasn’t irked by the potion master’s hidden relationship and his quitting on his job— but decides ultimately against it; Severus and Remus and Sirius never had a good relationship, so he imagines that Severus, callous as he is, merely sniff and utter ‘good riddance’. 

But aside from that, his main issue is finding Harry; the boy still has a duty to fulfill— protect Muggleborns from the Pureblood extremists— and he cannot do that if he’s not here. 


He has to find Harry. As soon as possible.