[identity profile] hp-ageplay-mod.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] hp_ageplay
Title: It Feels Like Coming Home
Author: [livejournal.com profile] loves_music17
Prompt: #39 The Dursleys always wanted a girl. When Harry came their wishes came true. No one can take their little girl from them.
Characters/Pairing: Harry Potter, Petunia Dursley, Vernon Dursley, Dudley Dursley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, George Weasley (eventual Harry Potter/George Weasley)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 7,500
Warnings: Forced infantilism, crossdressing
Summary: Harry Potter’s life doesn’t quite follow what the books would have you believe. This is the story of him struggling to find a place he belongs.
Author's Notes: So, this ended up being a lot darker than I’d originally intended but that’s where the muse took me. This is my first time writing age play so hopefully it’s not too atrocious.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter with all its characters and settings belongs to J.K Rowling and her publishers, no money is made with this fanwork.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley had lived at number four Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey for over ten years now. They’d moved in after they were married and Vernon accepted a job offer to become the director of Grunnings, a firm that made drills not too far from the neighborhood. To most it would seem a boring place to live perhaps, with its cookie-cutter houses, perfectly trimmed yards, and the predictable, normal lives of the people that lived there. To the Dursleys though, who prided themselves on being as normal as anyone could possibly be and had no time for such nonsense as imagination or anything strange, it was an absolutely perfect place to start their lives together.

They settled into the house quickly, filling it with the plainest furniture and decorations they could find but expensive enough that they could make their neighbors who came over to welcome them jealous. Petunia joined the local bridge club and got to know several women in the neighborhood but honestly was just interested in the gossip she could glean from them due to her overly nosy nature. Vernon was more concerned with competing with their neighbors over who had the nicest, priciest things because he was a very conceited man and always concerned about what others thought. When they eventually decided to have their first child, it was more out of a desire to keep up with the other married couples in the neighborhood who were starting their own families. So they welcomed their son Dudley into the world and they showered the boy with gifts and attention just to prove they were better parents.

However, it quickly occurred to Vernon and Petunia that to be a truly perfect family they needed a daughter to complete the Dursley household. Dudley was only a few months old when his parents started trying to conceive another child. No matter how much they tried for a second child, though, it seemed Petunia was unable to become pregnant again. Her first pregnancy had been hard on her, being an older woman in her mid-thirties and too vain to allow herself to gain more than fifteen pounds even while supporting another life. She had not dared tell her husband about her previous three unexpected pregnancies that had resulted in miscarriages over the years. She knew Vernon would see her inability to bear children properly as a sign of weakness and possibly think she was flawed as a wife. So when she’d been able to carry Dudley to term she secretly thought it was a miracle, no matter how much she outwardly denied such occurrences were possible because that meant they were less than perfectly normal.

She was so desperate to have a little girl, though she even started hoping some of her never-spoken-of sister’s magic could help her. Dudley had turned one in June, it was now October 31st—Halloween—and they’d spent the evening plying Dudley with sweets and taking plenty of pictures of their baby Duddykins in his handsome sailor’s outfit, even if it was a bit too snug for their big, sturdy boy. After they put the baby to bed for the night, Petunia and Vernon retreated to their own room.

Most nights they spent as much time as possible trying to create their much desired daughter until Dudley woke squalling or Vernon tired from the exertion. That night, as Vernon sat next to his wife on their bed, stroking her body as he always did before he started removing both of their clothing, Petunia felt her heart twinge in pain at the sudden realization that no matter how much or how often they tried, she would never be able to have another child—they would never have their little girl. She surprised herself when she began to cry, great heaving sobs which left her breathless, not a woman prone to show such emotion.

Vernon stilled, but swiftly pulled his wife into his arms to comfort her as he guessed what brought about the sudden outburst. He’d wondered for some time if Petunia was incapable of becoming pregnant again, they’d surely tried often enough in the past year for another child. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want her to feel pressured or worried. They both wanted a daughter so much it was hard to accept that it would likely never happen. Dudley was perfect of course, the apple of their eye, but for some reason it felt like their family wasn’t complete. As Petunia sobbed into his shoulder, Vernon tried to soothe her with loving words and gentle touches but the woman was inconsolable. It felt like she was losing another child, the pain was the same as it had been for each of her miscarriages. They sat there in the dark bedroom for hours, silently mourning the loss of a daughter they never even had to begin with.

Many, many miles away an even more horrendous tragedy was unfolding in Godric’s Hollow as a young, beautiful couple was struck down by a mad-man, a dark wizard who called himself Voldemort. What the Dark Lord had not foreseen was that the mother, none other than Petunia’s own sister Lily Potter, would freely sacrifice her own life to protect her son, Harry, resulting in a magical protection so powerful the Killing Curse rebounded off the child and destroyed all but his spirit.

As profound as this act of love was, it left young Harry an orphan as well as a hero to the entire wizarding world at the mere age of one. It was decided after a half-giant came to his rescue that it would be best for the child to be placed with his only living relatives, the Dursleys, because the powerful wizard Albus Dumbledore thought the blood protection from his mother should extend to the sister, Petunia. He also believed Harry should grow up in the Muggle world away from his fame to have a chance at a normal childhood. Perhaps if the wise wizard had known the fate he was sending the boy to, he might have reconsidered.

He knew the Dursleys were not exactly the best people to take in a magical child, well remembering Petunia’s resentment of Lily for being the favored child once it was discovered she was a witch. And his dear friend Minnie warned him she did not care for the Dursleys, after watching them in Little Whinging, reporting that Harry would be better off with a couple who would appreciate the magical power the child would assuredly have. Albus insisted, and that is how Harry Potter ended up left at the front door in the middle of the night with nothing but a note pinned to the blanket he was swaddled in for the Dursleys to find.

When Vernon opened the door the next morning to head out for work, he was shocked to see a baby had been left on their doorstep. He called for Petunia immediately as he brought the baby inside. Petunia came into the kitchen slowly, still drained from her breakdown the night before last, but when she spotted the child in her husband’s arms she gasped, not in horror but in amazement.

“Oh, Vernon, our wish came true! She’s wonderful!”

Vernon nodded eagerly as he carefully passed the bundle over to his wife. Neither husband nor wife would acknowledge the fact that they were holding a baby boy, even after they uncovered the child to inspect it and found distinctly non-female genitals, too consumed with the idea that they’d been granted their wish for a daughter finally to care. They stood there for a while staring down lovingly at the newest addition to their family, before Petunia eventually plucked the letter from the blanket to investigate. As she read her smile soon faded and her hands began to shake. Vernon noticed and asked what was wrong.

“It’s from…th-that man, the headmaster from her school. He says something has happened to my sister and that good for nothing husband of hers, leaving little Harry here parentless. Apparently he believes we can offer some sort of protection by letting her live with us. Vernon, what should we do? The child is one of them.”

Vernon’s face turned red with indignation, “No, I absolutely won’t allow it. If it’s true that those freaks are dead and the rest of their kind aren’t willing to take the child in, that must mean she isn’t like them, right? They would have kept her if she was m-magic.” Vernon nearly whispered the last word, too uncomfortable with the idea of magic to bring himself to say it any louder for fear of it bringing about some sort of freakishness.

Petunia readily agreed with her husband, even if she didn’t fully believe it, not willing to believe her newfound little girl could possibly be one of them, because then those freaks would come and take her away just like they had her sister Lily all those years ago. They decided then and there that they would raise Harry as their own daughter Harriet Dursley, no one would know her true identity or where she’d come from, and they would keep her safe from all things magic and freakish.

10 years later

Harriet Dursley awoke on the morning of her older brother Dudley’s birthday completely content with her life and family. She was lying in her crib in the nursery, happily sucking on a pacifier while she waited for her mummy to come up to change her out of her messed nappy and lace nightgown. Harriet didn’t have to wait long before Petunia entered the room and peered over the side of the crib to coo over her precious little girl. Harriet smiled at the praise and made grabby motions towards her mummy to show she wanted to be picked up, which the woman obliged.

Petunia easily held the child against her hip, even though she was nearly eleven. Years of only being allowed to drink bottles and eat baby food with the rare occasion of eating mashed real food had left Harriet undernourished and very light for her age, but Petunia thought she was beautiful and told her all good little girls should be petite. There were many rules for how to be a good little girl, Harriet had learned over the years. Good little girls listen to mummy and daddy, and do as they’re told—even if that means dressing up and acting like a baby all the time. Good little girls don’t sass mummy and daddy or question their decisions because it’s always in their little girl’s best interest. Good little girls wear the pretty clothes and girly accessories mummy dresses her up in without complaint, and good little girls never get dirty. Good little girls help mummy around the house so they can learn important skills like cooking, cleaning, and sewing. Good little girls act like a proper young lady at all times, but especially when company is over they should be on their best behavior. Good little girls don’t play with boys or even toys meant for boys like footballs or videogames. Good little girls let mummy homeschool them to make sure they are learning appropriate material like how to read and write from children’s books. Good little girls don’t cry unless there is something seriously wrong like they’ve hurt themselves. The most important rule of all though, was that good little girls never mention magic or do anything to make strange things happen around them.

Harriet had learned all of this over the years, some of it the hard way such as the last rule. Nothing ensured she would be punished and spend days in the cupboard under the stairs more so than disobeying the rules. She really tried so hard to be a good little girl for mummy and daddy but sometimes she made mistakes, and sometimes she didn’t understand what she’d done wrong until after she was punished and had time to think about it. Like the last time she was allowed to go to regular school with Dudley when she was seven, and her brother and his gang of friends were chasing Harriet to scare her. She’d gotten so scared she hadn’t realized she was no longer on the ground with the other kids until Dudley started screaming about telling their mum she’d done something freaky and wound up on the roof of the school. Harriet’s teachers assumed she’d climbed up there but Harriet distinctly remembers a floating feeling since her eyes were closed.

Daddy had been so cross with her that evening, he’d spanked her over his knee for a solid thirty minutes, his face purple with rage, and then he’d put Harriet in the cupboard for a week. By the time she’d been let out her bottom was nearly infected from the rash she’d gotten from not having her diaper changed for a week. Mummy had taken care of her afterwards though, bathed her and changed her before rocking her to sleep, all the while softly imploring her little girl to never do something like that again. Harriet had no desire to ever do anything that would result in such a harsh punishment from daddy again. Once she was no longer permitted to attend school with Dudley and Petunia started homeschooling her, Harriet was much happier and weird things stopped happening, it seemed.

Now, as her mummy laid Harriet onto the changing table in the nursery she did wonder why, even though Dudley and her seemed to be the same age, her brother was considered a big boy and she was still considered a little girl. Mostly she just thought it was because things were different for girls and boys. Petunia and Vernon had certainly never told her why they treated their children differently, content to let Harriet live in blissful ignorance so they could continue to keep their little girl with them forever and ever. Of course they loved their son, he was just as important to them, but for different reasons. Dudley would go on to follow in his father’s footsteps to become someone important and continue the Dursley name while Harriet would stay with her mummy and daddy so they always had their little girl to look after.

Once Petunia had wiped Harriet’s bum, applied baby powder, pinned a clean cloth diaper on her, and put her plastic panties on, the woman took her daughter over to the wardrobe to choose her outfit for the day. She ended up putting Harriet in a frilly pink dress that barely covered her diapered rear, white lace socks, pink Mary Jane shoes, and a white ribbon to tie back her long black hair. Harriet twirled around, enjoying the effect of the dress and how pretty she looked in it.

Her mummy led her by the hand downstairs to the kitchen to drink her morning bottle and help prepare Dudley’s birthday breakfast and a cake for later. Harriet had never had cake or many sweets for that matter, her mummy always told her good little girls had to watch their figure. Harriet didn’t mind, she just liked helping bake the sweets. After the Dursley family had eaten breakfast they all went into the living room to watch Dudley open his mountain of birthday presents. Harriet was more interested in playing with her favorite dolls, knowing her brother wouldn’t let her play with any of his new toys anyway.

When mummy and daddy said they were all going to the zoo she was much more excited, since she didn’t get to go out much. Mummy changed her nappy before they left the house to get in the car where Harriet was strapped into a child’s car seat. Dudley didn’t seem to care for the zoo much but Harriet loved seeing all the different kinds of animals even if she had to stay in the stroller the entire time. Some people gave the Dursleys strange looks when they noticed Petunia pushing an older child in a buggy, not to mention that the child dressed in girls’ clothing seemed sort of boyish. No one dared say anything to the couple though, in fear of seeming rude.

It would have infuriated Vernon and Petunia for anyone to imply their little girl Harriet might not be normal, or hint that she looked like a boy. They’d convinced themselves many years ago that just because Harriet had boy parts, she was not a boy. They never spoke of her true gender, and were more than happy to leave Harriet in the dark about her anatomy. Harriet had no reason to question whether she was a boy or girl because she had no clue what made boys and girls different besides what they wore or how they acted, and in her mind she was completely female. Little did any of the Dursleys realize that in a mere month’s time a letter addressed to a Harry Potter at number four Privet Drive in Little Whinging from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would completely change their entire family.

It was just another day in July, not long before Harriet’s birthday, when Petunia asked her to retrieve the mail and the little girl found a letter addressed to a Mr. H. Potter amongst the bills and junk mail. Harriet was confused, not recognizing the name but knowing it was their address and it even said the nursery, so when she brought the mail to her mummy she pointed out the strange letter. As soon as the woman caught sight of the sealed letter with her daughter’s unspoken given name on it she paled instantly and ripped it from the child’s hands. Harriet was startled by her mummy’s action and grew more worried as she watched her tear open the letter and quickly read it. Then Petunia called out for Vernon in an anxious voice, ignoring Harriet’s questioning look as the large man hurried into the kitchen to see what was wrong with his wife. The two adults turned their backs on their little girl to scan the letter’s contents intently for several minutes. Harriet watched them mumble and curse under their breath about “that damn school” and “those freaks” before she could no longer contain her curiosity and went to tug on her mummy’s dress to gain her attention. The woman looked down at Harriet like she’d completely forgotten the child was in the room.

“Mummy, wha’s wong?” Harriet asked around the pacifier in her mouth.

Petunia sighed, “Dear, mummy and daddy are talking. Go into the living room to play with your brother Dudders.”

Harriet, always concerned with being a good little girl, obeyed without question and turned to leave the kitchen. Before she was out of earshot though, she heard mummy whisper something to daddy when she thought Harriet wouldn’t hear.

“Vernon, we can’t let them take her to that freaky school. She hasn’t done anything magical in years; she’s not one of them! They won’t take our baby!”

Vernon quickly replied to soothe his wife, “I know, pet. That’s why we’re going to move. We’ll take the children to America where those freaks can’t find her.”

Harriet was very confused about what her parents were talking about, but knew they would protect her and Dudley from whoever sent that letter that had them so worried, so she put it out of her mind.

The Dursleys couldn’t leave immediately, Vernon had to put in his resignation at Grunnings and Petunia had to pack up their belongings to ship to the United States. When Dudley found out they were moving he was inconsolable, constantly bemoaning having to leave his friends and life in England. Harriet thought she was much more mature about the situation than her big brother but she didn’t say that to Dudley.

By the time mummy and daddy had everything prepared to leave, it was Harriet’s birthday. Her birthdays were usually not much of an affair, since she didn’t demand tons of gifts or special treatment like Dudley since she was a good little girl, but Petunia usually got her a new pretty dress or toy for the occasion at least. This year mummy surprised her with a new play tea set to keep Harriet occupied while the adults packed up the car to head to the airport later that day.

She was in the middle of a pretend tea party with her favorite dolls and stuffed animals when she heard her mummy shriek in fear downstairs. Harriet’s instinct was to rush out to see what was wrong but she knew she wasn’t allowed to leave the nursery until mummy came to get her, so instead she hurried over to climb into her crib to hide under the blankets. A few moments later the door to her nursery swung open and Harriet trembled as she watched from a small opening in her blankets as two strange men in funny looking dresses stopped dead in their tracks to observe the room they’d just entered. One of them, a tall, dark-haired, scowling man spoke to the other, an extremely old man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.

“Albus, what in Merlin’s name have these deranged Muggles done with Potter? This is a baby’s nursery, clearly for a girl. Surely that child cowering in the crib isn’t…the Boy Who Lived?”

Harriet couldn’t contain a frightened whimper as she began to cry when the mean man mentioned her hiding place. The older man, Albus, approached the crib with a weary sigh to pull back the blankets to reveal the child underneath, none other than Harry Potter, dressed in a pale purple romper, with long black hair tied in pig tails, and an obvious bulge on his bottom from the diaper he was wearing. Tears and snot coated his face from his terror of being found, much to the disgust of the man looking over Albus’ shoulder at the youth.

“I fear we may have been too late, my dear boy,” Albus gently whispered towards Harry as he bent to pick the child up.

Harriet screamed and tried to squirm away but the old man was surprisingly strong and he cradled her firmly against his chest.

“Mummy! Daddy! Help! Help!” Harry yelled, not realizing Albus had Stunned the Dursleys downstairs when they attempted to attack them after answering their knock on the front door.

Albus rubbed a wrinkled hand over Harry’s back, gently shushing the child, but the child only panicked more when neither Vernon nor Petunia came into the room to rescue him. The other man walked around the nursery, examining its contents in an attempt to avoid the screeching Potter child. He was shocked at the treatment Petunia and her oaf of a husband forced upon the child. It was painfully obvious that they’d brainwashed Potter into not only believing they were his real parents but that he was in fact a she, judging from the vast amount of dresses, dolls, and sickeningly sweet hand drawn pictures of the family all labeled “mummy, daddy, and their good little girl”. He couldn’t even fathom why they would do such a thing as make the child believe he was a girl, but he was more horrified by the idea that they’d clearly treated him like a baby his entire life. Who could be cruel enough to rob a child of the act of growing up, effectively forcing them to live as an infant to rely solely upon their care for their every need? It had been a gross oversight on the old coot’s part not to have someone check in on the child before now. What would the Wizarding world think of their savior when they discovered he’d been reduced to a mere baby girl by his Muggle relatives? It had the potential to start another war between the Purebloods and their distaste of all things Muggle.

“Severus, my boy, what are you thinking?” Albus inquired from across the room.

It was only then that Severus realized the caterwauling had stopped because Potter had cried himself to exhaustion and was now sleeping fretfully in the headmaster of Hogwarts arms. Severus frowned, imagining the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore hadn’t anticipated this particular fate for the child all those years ago. Severus Snape thought it likely that Albus had hoped for a bit of neglect and mistreatment of Potter from his relatives, just to make the boy more moldable to his future plans for the Dark Lord’s undoubted return. Severus hadn’t had many qualms with the plan, thinking it was karma against the child’s bullying father if his son were to be shown how it felt to not have the world handed to him. He could tell from the forlorn look in the usually twinkling blue eyes that the old wizard was at a loss for what to do in this situation. No one could have guessed the boy’s relatives could have been capable of something such as this after all.

“Well, I’m thinking we can’t bring Potter back to the Wizarding world as he is. If the Prophet catches wind of his…condition, they’ll have a field day with the boy,” Severus drawled as he picked up an errant piece of paper the boy had been practicing writing his name on, Harriet Dursley scribbled over and over across the page.

“What do you suggest we do then? We surely can’t leave him here, or have him return,” Albus replied while he looked down at the youth in his arms, light as a feather and in need of a diaper change, he noticed.

“Albus, if I may be so bold, I think the best course of action at this point would be to Obliviate him and the Dursleys,” Severus said.

The dour man was again by the old man’s side, both of them pondering the idea and all of its ramifications. Finally, after many minutes of silence stretched between them Albus looked up to meet the eyes of his Potions professor.

“I believe you might be right, Severus. As much as I hate the thought of doing such a thing, in this instance I can think of no better option. We need Harry to start at Hogwarts come September and this child is far from ready for such a thing. We’ll replace his and his relatives’ memories with false ones, of Harry’s childhood here. They won’t be nearly as happy as his real ones I fear, but it will give Harry a chance at the life he was meant to have, not whatever has transpired to create this child before us. The Dursleys won’t remember the child they raised, and instead we will create different memories for each of them, so that Harry can continue to come here in the summers to uphold the blood protection his mother Lily left him.”

Severus was surprised how easily Albus seemed to come to that decision, but he didn’t let it show. It was evident how much the headmaster desired to have his weapon firmly in his grasp at Hogwarts, and how far he was willing to go to ensure Potter led the life Albus expected of him.

When Albus and Severus descended the stairs, Potter still dozing in Dumbledore’s arms, the Dursleys were still splayed across the living room from when Severus Stunned them earlier. Severus released the Muggles from the spell only to quickly bind them with invisible ropes to keep them in place. Petunia spotted the child in the headmaster’s arms and began to scream and plead for the men to let her little girl go, Vernon joining in a moment later with vicious threats. Severus was tempted to Silencio them and just get on with what had to be done, but Albus stopped him to ask the woman something.

“Petunia, I had expected you to care for Harry as if he were your own, but you’ve have treated this child like your own personal doll. What on Earth possessed you to do such a thing?”

Petunia’s face warped into a mask of wild anger as she snarled, “Her name is Harriet, you bastard! She’s my daughter and I’ve given her more love and affection than your kind ever could! Now let us go! She can’t even do magic, Vernon made sure to squash it right out of her from the start. So, she’s ours! She doesn’t belong at that freaky school!”

Severus could no longer hold his tongue. “Tunie, Tunie, Tunie. When will you learn, magic is a gift not blessed on all and it’s something that can’t be taken away, especially by the likes of mere Muggles like yourselves.”

From where he lay in Albus’ arms, Harry was roused by the angry voices around him and woke up to see his family tied up on the floor at the feet of the two strangers who came into the nursery. The child wrenched himself out of the man’s arms to dart towards the Dursleys, crying out for the intruders to let mummy and daddy go. Petunia and Vernon looked up with smug expressions.

“See, she doesn’t even want to be with your kind. We brought our daughter up to not believe in your rubbish and to be a good little girl,” Vernon said, “Tell them who’s good little girl you are, sweetheart.”

Harriet turned to the men with tear stained cheeks to obediently reply, “I’m mummy and daddy’s good little girl, sirs. Please let them go.”

Albus shook his head regretfully and gave Severus a look to indicate it was time.

Severus raised his wand against the Potter boy first. “Don’t worry, Potter. Soon you’ll be seeing your relatives differently, I promise. And you won’t be relying on them for a nappy change either.”

Harry cried out when the Obliviate spell hit him, and Severus pushed out all of his memories of his years being treated as an infantile girl to replace them with memories of growing up in the cupboard under the stairs and being made to wait on his relatives like a house elf. He watched the innocent, feminine child turn into a jaded, unhappy boy. A quick transfiguration of the boy’s clothes had exchanged the girly outfit with clothes that looked like his whale of a cousin’s hand-me-downs.

Severus had already changed the nursery upstairs from a little girl’s dream to a bare room devoid of love for a magical child who never knew a kind word from his relatives. Gone were the crib and changing table, nappies and baby supplies, as well as the dresses and girly toys. Potter would never remember being treated like a baby but instead would believe the Dursleys disliked him from the moment he arrived on their doorstep. The only reason he had a bedroom at all was because they feared the wizards who placed him with them.

Next, Severus turned towards the Dursleys themselves. He stripped away their misguided love for Harriet Dursley and replaced it with a deep seated hatred of all things magical that they took out on their orphaned nephew for a decade. They would never again think of Harry as their good little girl but rather a freak, just like all wizards, and wouldn’t even call him by his given name. They would refer to him as boy, and never remember the child used to wear dresses and hair ribbons. Severus stepped back once the spell was completed and all memories were altered as per Dumbledore’s orders. He would be the first to admit he didn’t fully understand why the Dursleys had treated Potter the way they had, but he could recognize that Potter had been a lot happier living in blissful ignorance as a baby girl with the Muggles than he was with the false memories that had been forced upon him. Snape turned around only to find his boss’ wand pointed at him and an apologetic look in the old man’s eyes.

“You must realize, Severus that I cannot allow you to remember what transpired here or to know Harry’s true past. We must all play our parts in the coming war, and I will need you as a spy once more with no conflicting emotions concerning the child. You must not think of Potter as any more than the son of your school nemesis and the boy who will one day destroy Voldemort.”

Severus sneered, “I should have expected no less from you.”

The headmaster softly called out “Obliviate!” and erased the Potions Master’s memories of the day and their discoveries. Dumbledore then pressed a portkey into the man’s hands to take him back to his rooms in the dungeons of Hogwarts. Then he moved to place Harry in the newly remade bedroom upstairs with five locks on the door and a cat flap for food. The Dursleys were unbound and placed on the sofa and all the belongings they had packed to flee were returned to the house, and Dumbledore performed another memory charm on the occupants of the house so that they believed Hagrid had come to rescue Harry from a house on rock where Vernon had taken them in his mad rush to escape the countless Hogwarts letters bombarding the house. They would bring Harry to King Cross station to catch the Hogwarts’ Express as planned and everything would be back on schedule.

Albus Disapparated back to Hogwarts confident that he was able to remedy the situation without any repercussions it seemed. What the headmaster didn’t realize was that Severus Snape had foreseen Albus’ plan to erase Potter’s past with no hope of the boy being able to recover the memories, so while the Slytherin Head-of-House was performing the Obliviate spell on Potter he also placed a subtle spell on the boy that went unnoticed by the headmaster. The spell would ensure that although the memories of his true childhood were gone, the feelings of innocence and happiness that Severus had seen in “Harriet” would remain. He did this so that if one day Harry thought to pursue those feelings and return to such an existence again Potter could. Being familiar with the lifestyle of infantilism in consenting adult relationships through his research on Muggle and Wizarding fetishes, Severus knew it was likely Harry Potter would in fact eventually desire such a thing for himself. It was the least he could do for Lily’s child, James Potter be damned. If he secretly thought the boy’s father would roll over in his grave at the idea of any child of his being an adult baby it had nothing to do with his decision, even if it did make him smirk at the bittersweet revenge.


10 Years Later

Harry Potter had always thought he was a freak. His relatives, the Dursleys, certainly told him often enough when he was living with them as a child that he was. For a while, when he was very young and still living in the cupboard under the stairs at their house, he’d honestly thought Freak was his name, since they didn’t like to use his given name. When he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter and the half-giant Hagrid came to tell him he was a wizard, Harry thought he would finally find a place where he wasn’t a freak. He’d been sadly mistaken though, when he learned most people in the wizarding world either saw him as the famous Boy Who Lived who craved attention and undeserved privileges or the prophesized Savior meant to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before he was even of age.

All Harry had ever wanted was for people to accept him for himself, just Harry. He’d found few people willing to do that, and they were his most loyal friends. And even they didn’t know his deepest darkest secret, which he’d discovered about himself during his years at Hogwarts. He hadn’t known what to call it until after he’d defeated Voldemort and decided he was going to live his life how he wanted, regardless of what everyone else expected of him. So he’d spent time learning as much as he could about his secret desires, researching books and discussing it through anonymous meetings with Muggles. He found out it was called infantilism, and that there were many others who felt the same way he did. Sometimes, Harry needed to let go of control in his life and let someone else care for him for a while. It was now three years after the end of the second war against Riddle and Harry was finally happy with himself and his life. He no longer felt like a freak since he embraced his true self, and had even met someone to share his desires with.

George Weasley had always cared about Harry, he and Fred had thought of the younger boy like a little brother, and they’d deeply respected their fellow Gryffindor for giving them the funds to be able to start their business. After Fred’s death in the final battle though, George had sunk into a deep depression, unable to function without his other half. The rest of his family tried to bring George back into the land of the living and get him back to a normal life, but none of them were able to pull him from his misery. Eventually they left him alone, since George was still running the shop and clearly had no interest in ending his own life. Fred would have beaten the crap out of him if George had tried to commit suicide, it was so cowardly.

Only Harry stuck with him, coming round on a daily basis to check on him and fill the apartment with mindless chatter. Harry made sure George remembered to eat, bathe, pay the bills, and breathe basically for a year after the war ended. And he expected nothing in return, not even George’s interaction although he appreciated it when the older man did engage in a conversation or at least smile to let him know it wasn’t a horrible day. Harry understood, unlike most of their other friends and family, that it was hard to let go of the past, especially a loved one that your life revolved around.

Eventually George started to emerge from his funk and take notice of Harry in a new light. The green-eyed man had grown out of his knobby knees and cousin’s hand-me-downs from Hogwarts into a confident and caring adult. He always put those he cared about before himself and didn’t care what the Prophet or the Ministry thought of him, because he’d been controlled for most of his life and had finally taken the reigns back.

Most assumed he would join Ron and become an Auror, but Harry was tired of chasing down Dark wizards and instead yearned for a simpler life. He spent most of his money on funding orphanages for magical children who lost their families in the war or were rejected by their Muggle parents and spent a lot of time volunteering at those places. He liked talking with the children because he felt connected to them and the children enjoyed his visits because he didn’t act like the other adults around them, Harry was more than happy to play games and tell stories or sneak treats to them.

George knew Harry hadn’t had the best childhood, they’d talked about the Dursleys at length over the years and George would never forget the bars on Harry’s window in the boy’s second year. While they’d been at Hogwarts, the twins had noticed many things about Harry over the years but kept quiet about it since they figured it was Harry’s business if he wanted to suck his thumb when he thought no one was looking or wear Transfigured nappies under his Quidditch robes.

George had forgotten all about Harry’s strange quirks from school until Harry came around to the flat above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes one afternoon to cook dinner and his shirt rode up to reveal the man was wearing a nappy under his trousers. George decided to ask him about it and was shocked when Harry shyly revealed he liked to wear them. The older man had never heard of such a thing as infantilism before, but was genuinely curious what attracted Harry to it so he asked him to explain it to him if Harry didn’t mind. Harry had never shared that part of his life with anyone else, and George was the only person he had told so far. They ended up talking long into the night about what Harry had discovered through his own research. It was clear to George why it would appeal to Harry, who never got a chance at a good childhood and was forced to grow up a lot faster than most during the war. After a while, George found himself intrigued with the concept of age play from the caretaker’s perspective. With Fred gone, he needed something to fill the hole left behind in his heart, and George thought taking care of Harry and pursuing a relationship with the younger wizard might be good for both of them.

That is how George and Harry started dating, to the surprise of the rest of the Weasley clan and their friends. Of course, they didn’t reveal that they engaged in age play to others since that was a shared secret just between them. Harry had never had someone to care for him while he was in his little mindset and George didn’t have much practice caring for babies, real or play, so they learned together. Eventually, Harry revealed that he also liked to dress up like a little girl and be treated like one while he was a baby, and George was more than happy to do so. They did things as a normal couple also, and they had sex, but never when Harry was in his baby mode. It worked for both of them, strangely enough, and Harry finally found someone who accepted him as just Harry, or Harriet as he was called sometimes as his little girl persona.

Today was the anniversary of the end of the war, and rather than attend the Ministry function they’d been invited to, Harry and George stayed home for the night. Harry spent the day playing in his nursery with his toys and George. Harry was wearing a nappy, an adult-sized onesie that said “Daddy’s little girl” on the front with a pink tutu over it, George had braided his shoulder-length hair after his bath, and his ever faithful favorite plush toy lion named Roary was clutched at his side.

When Harry was finished playing for the night he carried him over to the rocker in the corner of the nursery to feed him a bottle and tell him a story of the infamous Weasley twins’ adventures at Hogwarts. Harry loved listening to his daddy’s stories but he usually couldn’t stay awake to the end of them, so George would lovingly carry him back to his crib and tuck him in for the night with a pacifier in his mouth and turn on a night light that made the whole ceiling look like the night sky, before leaving the room with the door open just a crack so he could hear if Harry woke up and needed him while he went to his potion lab to work on new items for the joke shop.

Harry had nightmares from the war and his childhood many nights, so when George heard Harry start to cry he hurried back to the nursery to pick him up and whisper soothingly to him as he rocked him in his arms.

“Daddy’s got you, Harriet. Shh, it’s alright, I’m here now. Did my baby have a bad dream?”

Harry sniffled as his tears calmed and he buried his face in George’s neck. “Mmm hmm. Scary man took me away from my mummy and daddy. But you’re my daddy now. Love you, daddy.”

George assumed Harry meant Voldemort when he spoke of the “scary man” but in Harry’s dream it had been an old man with a white beard in his relatives’ home. The dream was already being forgotten by Harry, not realizing it was a real memory he’d dreamed of that he wasn’t supposed to have. George could tell Harry had wet himself while he slept, which happened a lot since Harry’s bladder control wasn’t very good after wearing diapers most of the time. Sometimes Harry even had accidents when he wasn’t wearing a nappy, which embarrassed him, but George would always help clean him up and act like it wasn’t a big deal so Harry wouldn’t feel bad. Now, though, George took Harry to the changing table and unsnapped the bottom half of his footie pajamas to change him, Harry half asleep again already. When he’d cleaned Harry and put a new diaper on him George deposited him back in the crib.

Harry slept peacefully for the rest of the night, feeling safe and secure in his life as an adult baby with a loving daddy. He’d found a place where he belonged and it felt like coming home.
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