Disclaimer: I own...well, nothing in this fic.

Warnings: Slash of the Draco/Harry variety to come...

Notes: This is...odd? Yeah, definitely odd. Odd and fluffy. I don't know if this plot's been used before, but it suggested itself to me when my sister and I were talking about the Attack of the Chibi Snapes. Another odd idea, that...Oh yeah, and sorry for any OOCness if you should stumble across any...^_^



~Daisy Chains~

~A Somewhat Minor Mistake and the Consequences~

"Here, drink this."

Ron Weasley shoved a vial of something under Harry Potter's nose. Harry gagged and tried to back as far away from the concoction as possible, and in doing so succeeded in falling off of Ron's bed. When he had composed himself again, he stared distrustfully at the potion (for that was what it clearly was meant to be). It was a sickly blue color, and it had a strange consistency--like mud.

"What is it?" Harry asked, pushing his glasses up with one finger.

"It's a potion," Ron said shortly.

"I know that. But what IS it?"

"It's part of the Potions project Hermione's been badgering me about--it's a Shrinking Potions. You know, we learned of Resizing Potions a while back- -"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Harry said impatiently. He sniffed Ron's potion; to his surprise, it smelled not unlike cotton candy. "What exactly were we s'posed to do, again?"

Ron scratched his head, chewing on the end of his quill in thought. "I wasn't paying attention in class the day it was assigned--but from what I gathered from Hermione...Well, Snape claims there are a load of ways to make Shrinking Potions, and he's told us to try to figure them all out."

"Couldn't you use a textbook for that?" Harry asked.

"The library's closed for the evening. And the project's due tomorrow."

Harry frowned. "I forgot all about it..." Harry Potter, in his Fifth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was a well-known Seeker on Gryffindor House Quidditch team. He'd been focusing so hard on Quidditch the past few weeks (the Quidditch Season was coming up, after all) he'd been falling rather behind in his studies. Usually he could count on Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley to help him keep up, but apparently Hermione, the only consistent one out of their midst, had forgotten to keep him up to date.

Ron, noticing the worried frown on Harry's face, said, "This is the last potion I'm working on--I've managed to glean the others off Seamus and Neville--Dean outright refused, can you believe it, he's as bad as Hermione- -and if you test this for me, you can have my answers."

It was a very tempting offer. Still, Harry was wary. "Shrinking Potion, you say? You DO have the antidote, right?"

Ron nodded. "Hell, yeah. Wouldn't want you to be tiny forever, now would I? It's a pretty simple formula, really--came up with it myself. Foolproof."

Harry sighed in resignation. He was really regretting all the extra Quidditch practice now. At least the Shrinking Potion didn't SMELL awful. "All right, I'll test it. Do I take the whole vial?"

Ron considered. Then, "Yeah, you'd better." He handed the vial to Harry, who held it uncertainly. Ron grinned. "Drink up."

So Harry recklessly did. He waited for Ron's coverlet to come rushing up at him, but before it did, he felt as if a cloud was covering his mind. Soft, sweet, suddenly everything was simple.

Ron, on the other hand, stared in rather rapt horror. He'd been expecting Harry to shrink to about the size of a chess piece, yet still look unmistakably like, well, like Harry Potter. What he hadn't expected was to see Harry age backward before his very eyes. Suddenly, instead of short, wiry Harry Potter, there was a child sitting in the place where Harry had sat a moment before.

A child with wide green eyes, wild black hair, glasses that hung off of one ear, and a well-known scar.

Harry's robes swamped the child--wait, Ron thought, that IS Harry. Oh. Shit. The redhead reached out in a shocked daze to child-Harry, and nearly fainted when little fingers grabbed his own and a little mouth opened in a giggle.

"Harry?" Ron whispered in disbelief. The kid began shaking Ron's hand up and down idly, then abruptly climbed down off the bed and began toddling around, tripping over his huge robes. Ron was reminded of when his little sister Ginny had been learning how to walk--she'd been about three before she'd started to get the hang of it.

"Um. Geez." So much for "foolproof". His mind was mush, and the only thing he could think was this: ask Hermione.

As soon as that occurred to him, everything seemed okay. Hermione ALWAYS knew what to do! She could fix this. He stuffed the antidote in his pocket--just in case, though he suspected it would have no effect on Harry-- and grabbed the miniature version of Harry Potter around his waist. The robes hung to the floor, and Ron scooped them up, too.

He was at the head of the staircase when he realized he'd have to go through the Common Room to find Hermione. He paused a moment, then decided it really didn't matter if anyone else saw Harry. Soon all would be put right, anyway.

Halfway down the staircase, Harry began pulling on Ron's ears. Ron hefted the wiggling child from one side of his body to the other, finally putting him astride his shoulders. Curiously, this mode of transportation worked. Besides enduring delighted calls of "horsy!", Ron made it down the stairs all right.

About fifteen heads shot up at the appearance of Ron Weasley and a familiar looking child in the Common Room. Dean Thomas gasped in recognition (a gasp which escaped the happily oblivious Seamus Finnigan) and Lavender Brown shrieked. Parvati Patil wanted to hold Harry, but Ron took the boy from his shoulders and swung him out of her reach.

"You know where Hermione is?"

Parvati pouted. "In our room, studying."

Ron rolled his eyes affectionately and said, "As always. Get her, will you?"

Parvati sniffed but went to do as he asked, returning moments later with a miffed Hermione Granger.

She took one look at Harry and went bright red. "My GOD, Ron, what did you DO to him?"

Ron frowned inwardly on the fact that she hadn't even wasted a second to consider his innocence in this affair--right off the bat she assumed he was guilty. He WAS...but still. Whatever happened to benefit of the doubt? He realized the entire Common Room was now staring at the two-well, three of them and he said, "Why don't we take this somewhere else, eh?"

Harry was getting heavy and he could feel his definitely-not-hulking muscles tensing. She nodded briskly and said, "My roommates are still up and about...We'll have to go to yours."

"M-mine?" Ron flushed. "You can't--"

"I can and I will," she stated grimly before practically dragging him and Harry up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

She locked the door as Ron gratefully set Harry down on his bed, grumbling about how, had he known they were just coming back up here, he wouldn't have bothered carrying the little monster all that way.

Harry pulled up his ridiculously large robes and began playing with his toes.

Hermione stared at the raven-haired toddler in amazement before rounding on Ron. "What happened?"

"Well..." Ron shifted uncomfortably and told her about the potion.

She nodded in the appropriate places and, after he'd finished, said, "You certainly didn't mean for...THIS to happen. I suspect your potion ingredients were incorrect."

"Thanks for stating the obvious," Ron muttered moodily. He felt rather guilty for turning Harry into a (bothersome) child--the brat was chewing on Ron's Divination homework at the moment--but he would never admit that to Hermione. So instead he stood there shuffling his feet as Hermione pulled out her wand and began casting a series of spells on Harry, none of which seemed to work.

"Hm..." Her forehead wrinkled in thought. "To tell you the truth, Ron...I don't think there's anything we can do."

"What?" Ron squeaked.

"I mean, this is WAY out of my league. I've heard of it being done before...but never legally--" Ron paled. "--And never by accident." She gave him a hard look. "I hope this'll put an end to your experimenting days."

He nodded, absently pushing Harry's glasses up for him. "What'll we do with him? He can't very well go to classes like this...and...we can't leave him here alone. How long will it last?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly.

"'Ohnee!" Harry dimpled and reached for Hermione. "'Ohnee!"

"Aw, isn't that cute?" Ron teased as Hermione lifted Harry and playfully tickled his bared shoulder.

"We really have to consult a professor," she said at length.

Those were the words Ron had been dreading to hear. "Aaaaaaaargh!" He kicked his bedside trunk, then howled again, this time in pain. When he'd calmed down slightly, he said, "D'you have any idea what'll happen to me if someone figures out I had Harry take the potion?!"

Harry, staring with great interest at a furious Ron said, "'On angee?"

"Yes," said Hermione gently, "Ron angry."

Ron growled and plopped on Seamus' bed, eyes shooting daggers at Harry, who had returned to slobbering all over Ron's star chart. "Tell you what, Hermione: you go tell McGonagall while I find someplace to hide for a very long time."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, don't be absurd."

"Surd, surd, surd!" Crowed Harry.

Ron crossed his arms sulkily.

Fifteen minutes later an unfortunate Weasley, Hermione Granger (resident bookworm), and mini-Harry were all lined up in front of Professor McGonagall, who did not look the least bit pleased to see them. Maybe it was because it was eleven o'clock pm, or because the Boy Who Lived was now barely three feet high--whatever the reason, Ron could almost swear flames would shoot out of her nostrils any minute now.

Ron, predictably recieved the chewing out of a lifetime, but Harry didn't really care about this. He had spotted a funny crawly thing near his big toe, the latter of which was sticking out from beneath the black fabric of his robe. He squatted down to prod the crawly thing with his index finger, then attempted to pick it up. It took several tries, but at last he succeeded in scooping it into his palm.

The crawly thing scooted all over his hand, and he clapped his left hand over his right to keep the crawly thing still. Then he laughed because it tickled. He looked up at Ron, who was standing in silence (Professor McGonagall was discussing something with Hermione, and Ron had been temporarily pushed to the side). He wanted to show Ron the crawly thing, because Harry liked it so much, and he thought Ron might like it too.

He tugged on Ron's sleeve, and the redhead knelt down to Harry's eye level. "What, Harry?"

Harry held out his clasped hands.

"What've you got there?" Ron pried apart the tiny fingers, and a spider quickly tried to make its escape; it ended up on Ron's hand. Ron screeched and swung his hand about wildly, falling on his rear in the process. Harry, startled, began to cry.

The spider, sadly, was squished by Hermione, though quite by accident-- she'd whirled around to try to calm down Ron and Harry.

"MR. WEASLEY!" Professor McGonagall thundered.

Ron stood up quickly, shaking, searching the folds of his robes in a frantic attempt to be rid of a million invisible spiders. Hermione picked up Harry and spoke in a low, calming voice until he was quiet.

"Please, refrain from wreaking havoc in my office," said Professor McGonagall dryly.

Ron's hands were clutched into frightened fists, but he mumbled a "Yes, Professor."

Hermione sighed. She and Professor McGonagall had come to the conclusion that it would be too dangerous to meddle with Harry-the potion had been experimental ("And concocted by WEASLEY," McGonagall had said, as if that said it all) and therefor highly unstable. He seemed perfectly fine to Hermione, his fingers tangling in her hair and pulling so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

All the same, they'd just have to wait for it to wear off, and that would hopefully take no more than a week or two.

Professor McGonagall gave Ron a detention ("Nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, Mr. Weasley, gives you the right to use your Housemate as a guinea pig.") and mentioned asking Madam Pomfrey if she would watch over Harry for the next few days, but Hermione interrupted as politely as she could.

"Please, Professor, I--we--wouldn't mind taking care of him."

Professor McGonagall snorted rather loudly. "Ridiculous. Harry is." She coughed. "Well, he's a CHILD. I can't expect any student to--"

"We'll be very careful," Hermione assured.

Ron lifted his head long enough to say in an abashed tone, "I helped a lot with my sister when she was younger. So...I know a bit about kids."

Professor McGonagall gave the two of them a skeptical once-over. She considered all of the trouble they'd gotten into during the past few years-- somehow, they'd always managed to get back out of trouble. Why not now? She sighed and with a flick of her wrist said, "Very well, he may remain in your care. As long as...babysitting Mr. Potter doesn't interrupt your studies--"

"It won't!" Ron blurted, returning to silence, however, at Hermione's quelling look.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, but..."...You're dismissed."

As soon as they left the office, Harry, who had been scooped into Ron's arms with no ado at all, began whining for Ron to put him down. After five minutes of (mostly feigned) tears and loud protests, Hermione exasperatedly ordered Ron to put the "poor child" down. Harry promptly tripped over his own robes. When Hermione bent down to help (Ron sulked moodily a foot away), he shrugged her off.

He didn't like the odd clothes that swamped his rather small body, so he shucked them off. Hermione blushed and looked anywhere else--there had been a shirt underneath the robes, but it fell off without anything to hold it on. Ron laughed and said, "Aw, ickle Harry's in the buff."

"Um, Ron, perhaps you could...clothe him?"

"He doesn't seem to want anything on, does he?" Ron replied reasonably.

Hermione huffed. "He might catch his death of cold out here!"

True, Harry WAS shivering now, but he seemed quite content without the bulky robes. Ron pondered for a moment, then picked up the plain t-shirt Harry had had underneath his robes. He pulled off his own belt and from these materials fashioned a makeshift outfit for Harry.

"There. You can turn around, Hermione."

The brunette did so, then nodded reluctantly. "You'd better hold his hand, Ron, or he might wander off..."

Ron did so. They made awful time getting to Gryffindor Tower, though, mainly because Harry kept stopping to poke at seemingly unremarkable tapestries and window ledges.

The Gryffindors were happy to do anything Hermione and Ron asked, as long as they were allowed to goggle at Harry. Taking advantage of this, Ron convinced Dennis Creevey to let Harry borrow one of his old robes--Creevey had been tiny only a year before, though he'd grown a few inches over summer holiday.

"Oh, he's so CUTE!" Parvati Patil squealed, finally able to have her way with a giggling Harry, who was enjoying every bit of the attention he was getting. Dean Thomas was busily sketching Harry's portrait, and Seamus Finnigan was trying to get Harry to say various curse words (much to Parvati's dismay).

It wasn't until Lavender Brown pinched Harry's cheeks and made him cry that Ron came to the rescue, taking Harry into his arms and saying, "I think it's Harry's bedtime, now."

Parvati argued this point with him, but he was adamant--Harry had had enough excitement for one day, he insisted. Hermione yawned and said her goodnights, kissing Harry's forehead indulgently. Then Ron turned on his heel, nodding to Dean, who had given him a parting wave.

Away from the bustle and noise of the Common Room, Harry snuggled into Ron's chest, and the redhead found himself smiling. It felt good to be the strong one for once, the one in charge. When he entered their dormitory, it only took one glance at Harry's large and potentially dangerous four- poster for Ron to decide where Harry would sleep--next to Ron, of course. It was the safest alternative; there was no danger of him rolling off the bed or waking up scared and alone.

Carefully, Ron tucked in his best friend, pausing to stare at the bright green eyes before taking off Harry's glasses and placing them on the bedside table. "Better?" he said, folding up the robes Dennis Creevey had provided before shoving them in Harry's unlocked trunk.

Harry only yawned and turned over, clutching a corner of the sheets in his small hand. He missed the crawly thing and he felt very, very sleepy and warm. He liked having Ron pay attention to him, but he didn't like the parchment pale light and hoped that it would go away soon.

Ron emptied his pockets (wand, antidote, stale cracker) and slid out of his clothes, pulling on his pajamas quickly. He wondered what they would do with Harry come morning; take him to class with them? Not a bad idea, he thought. At least it'll be interesting. He melted into the comfortable covers, and Harry curled close to him. Ron switched off the lights.

So, what do you think, dear readers? Does this deserve continuation, or not?