((Note - This was inspired by a Gundam Wing fic series I read a loong time ago. I thought I'd give it a bit of a HP twist. and since it's my second fic ever, comments are quite appreciated. Please note: due to my inner oddness, this could get slashier later on. Consider yourself warned. Enjoy. ~Solo))

Icy drafts whipped through the dungeon that served as the Potions classroom. The walls were still hung with rusty chains, dire reminders of darker days. However, the chamber presently echoed with the chatter of students working in pairs to brew an Aging Potion. As usual, the class was divided: Slytherins on one side of the room, smirking at the annoyed Gryffindors on the other.

Draco was busy sipping from a flask he had concealed beneath his robes, breaking the rule of 'No food or Drink in the Classrooms'. Naturally, Snape didn't appear to notice, Harry thought in annoyance. Had it been me, he would have taken 500 points from Gryffindor or some such thing. His brooding thoughts were interrupted by a nudge from his best friend.

Ron had apparently caught sight of Malfoy's disregard for the rule as well, for his eyes twinkled mischievously, much like his brother Fred's used to when playing a prank. What a great way to pay the Slytherin back for tripping him in the Great Hall this morning.

Nudging Harry, the redhead whispered "How d'you reckon Malfoy will look with a nice blondie beard?" Dipping a spoon into his cauldron, Ron managed to pour a good-sized spoonful of the Aging Potion they were brewing into Draco's momentarily unguarded flask. Harry could hardly hide his grin as he watched Malfoy turn back around, grab the container and drink the spiked liquid.

Finishing it off, the pale boy glanced up, catching Ron and Harry staring at him. "What are you smiling about, Potter?" he snarled, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Harry simply shrugged as Ron coughed, trying to choke back his laughter. At the front of the room, Snape was prowling back and forth in front of the class, peering into their cauldrons in a dissatisfied manner.

"Remember, Aging Potion can only be consumed alone. When mixed with food or drink, it tends to have. . . adverse effects." Ron had looked up sharply, meeting Snape's dark gaze. "There are the usual ones, of course. . . abdominal pain, paralysis, death," he continued in an offhand manner. At this, Ron had gone so pale his freckles stood out like dots of paint. Harry glanced over at Malfoy. He was muttering something to Goyle, smirking. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Snape continued: "However, the most common reaction is." he was interrupted by a bellow of shock from Crabbe. The entire class whirled around to look, and there was a dead silence, followed by a tumultuous burst of shrieks and laughter.

Sitting in the midst of a pile of dark robes was an adorable, pale blonde toddler. Luminous silvery eyes fringed with long lashes looked out at the class as he giggled right along with them, apparently finding the whole situation a great joke.

". . .A reversal of the aging process." The Potions Master finished, looking wholly unamused. Ron and Harry cringed down slightly at their seats as Snape strode up the aisle, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. As his gaze traveled slowly from the smiling three-year-old Draco to the dropped flask on the floor to the nervous pair of Gryffindor boys, he spoke two words in a soft, dangerous voice. "Outside. Now."

Harry and Ron gulped, standing up slowly with the eyes of the entire class upon them. Snape spoke over his shoulder as he exited the room: "Bring the child." Ron, having had a younger sister, approached the little blonde boy nervously. He half expected Draco to snarl "Weasley! Get your filthy hands off me!" in a three year old voice. Instead, the child held his arms out to Ron with glee, smiling winningly.

"Up now!" he chirped, waving his chubby fingers. Harry stared, amazed, as Ron lifted the toddler into his arms, wrapping the ridiculously-too-big robes around him like a blanket. The ringing laughter of the Potions class followed them out into the chilly stone corridor, encouraged by Draco's enthusiastically waving 'bye bye'.

Snape rounded on them like an angry panther. "Which one of you boys thought up this. . .amusing little practical joke?" Harry glanced over at Ron. The baby in his arms was tugging on a strand of the tall boy's bright red hair, apparently trying to get some into his mouth. Ron was attempting to hold him at arms' length, apparently not enjoying little Draco any more than the full-grown version. He already had too many 'practical jokes' on his record, taking strongly after the antics of his twin brothers, long since graduated from Hogwarts. Something like this could get Ron expelled, Harry realized with a start.

"It was me, Professor," the dark haired boy muttered, catching Ron's look of deep gratitude out of the corner of his eye. No doubt Snape would take full advantage of his admitting to guilt. Indeed, the Potions Master's eyes flicked from Harry to the toddler in Ron's arms and back again.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, the effects of your little gag are not immediately correctable," Snape said coldly. Harry looked up at him abruptly, rather surprised. The teachers of Hogwarts were usually capable of doing everything from transforming into animals to regrowing bones. "Yes," the professor continued icily, "Speeding up the aging process again could be dangerous to Mr. Malfoy after so soon of a reversal. Not to mention the Aging Potion was used incorrectly." He finished speaking, glaring maliciously at Harry. Being well used to this, the green-eyed boy merely looked back, trying to keep his face blank. Next to him Ron yelped as Draco began to squirm fitfully, whimpering.

Snape's look became a disturbing mix of hatred and triumph as he spoke: "Therefore, Mr. Potter, I entrust the care of young Mr. Malfoy to you. This of course will require you missing your classes for the next day or so . . .without being able to make up any of your work, since Mr. Malfoy is obviously not in a state to learn because of your foolish antics." Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach as Snape placed the child into his arms. Little Draco immediately stopped squirming, snuggling up to Harry and placing a tiny hand on the seventeen-year-old's cheek. "Mine!" he said happily, at which the Harry nearly fell over.

Take care of his worst enemy?

As a three-year-old?


((To be continued.))