The hospital wing was quiet now, save for the steady tick of the old wall clock and the gentle rustle of sheets as Harry shifted in his sleep.
Snape sat in a hard chair near the foot of Harry Potter’s bed, the boy finally still after the events of the last few hours. There was something unsettling about the way he looked in sleep — not peaceful, not truly rested. Just… small.
Snape sighed, long and slow.
Now that Potter had a Little classification, half the wizarding world would be desperate to take him in. Fawning caregivers with outstretched arms, smothering affection, sweet-talking nonsense. No doubt he’d be assigned to someone soft and clingy, someone who’d treat him like a wounded animal instead of what he actually was: Potter.
Bar one exception.
Snape.
He wasn’t interested in keeping the boy.
Truthfully, he was already thinking of ways to get rid of him. He could be strict. Unpleasant. Impatient. Not cruel — not exactly — but difficult enough that Potter would beg for reassignment.
A month. That was his mental deadline. Long enough to stabilize him, long enough for someone else to take over.
He glanced at Madam Pomfrey’s nearby book cart and stood, plucking a familiar volume off the top shelf.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmxMjIEaj0F
What to Expect When Bonded to a Little: A Caregiver’s Guide, First Month Edition.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWKl8kX4OZu
He flipped it open with faint disdain. But the deeper he read, the quieter he became.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfqEB6Tmd3F
Chapter One: The First 48 Hours72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhCjnEGUImt
“It is during the first day or two post-classification that Littles are most vulnerable.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOlFHDlZrIZ
Their minds and bodies undergo metaphysical adjustment.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn07mQAP824
Many Littles will struggle to relinquish control.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDIbIvZX8aY
This can manifest in tantrums, disobedience, or emotional shutdowns.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaf3QbMChgM
Caregivers must respond with stability, calm presence, and reassurance.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAGcF4djNiK
This is not defiance. This is fear.”72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBVYNTqp0sf
Snape frowned.
The next section detailed metaphysical regression symptoms:72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡceNKza70x2
Mental: slowed speech, mood swings, detachment.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGSm4nYV4Q7
Physical: coordination loss, reduced bladder control, emotional overstimulation.
He glanced at Harry — who slept with a faint crease in his forehead, even unconscious.
Snape exhaled sharply.
Potter was going to be a nightmare.
And nappies?
Snape barely suppressed a groan. He could already imagine the shouting.
Almost as if summoned by the thought, Harry let out a soft whirr, rolling onto his side.
Snape stood, moving toward him — and the moment Harry’s eyes fluttered open, everything shattered.
Harry thrashed violently, panic flooding his features.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
Before he could bolt across the infirmary, Snape raised his wand.
“Accio, Potter.”
Harry was yanked backward mid-sprint, hitting the floor in a tangle of limbs and curses.
“Incarcerous.”
Ropes shot out and bound him to the floor, chest heaving.
“LET ME GO! I’M NOT—! YOU CAN’T—!”
Madam Pomfrey burst through the doors, pushing a metal trolley.
“Oh, Severus.” She clicked her tongue. “Get him back on the bed, please.”
Snape levitated Harry without fanfare and bound each limb to the bedposts under her instruction.
“Mr. Potter,” Pomfrey said briskly, “you need to calm down.”
“DON’T tell me what I need—!”
Pomfrey reached into the cart and pulled out a plain white nappy.
Harry stared at it in horror.
“No. No. I’m not — no, I am not wearing that—”
“It’s standard for newly classified Littles,” she said. “Until we determine your regression age.”
Snape folded his arms.
Harry thrashed harder.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz9V1mlK5H7
“SNAPE, don’t let her—! I’m not some—some baby!”
Pomfrey sighed. “Severus. Calm him.”
Snape’s jaw tightened. Calming draughts would take too long to brew. Charms wouldn’t last through a change.
There was only one option.
He dropped his voice — deeper, steadier, threaded with instinctive authority:72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9RnXfV4zAc
“Enough of this insolence, dove.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAtK9Fmp37V
Let Madam Pomfrey help you.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVWgMqQRjkK
You are safe.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡODbXns9e0N
You are not in control.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp7VZR7vQwB
And that is alright.”72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2pOrVW0eWa
Harry froze.
His muscles stopped resisting.
His expression softened with confusion.
His mouth opened, but no sound came out.72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLmOOJcxLzR
And then… he nodded.
Pomfrey worked quickly.
With a flick of her wand, Harry’s trousers vanished.
The nappy was slid under him, adjusted, and taped into place.
Harry watched Snape the entire time. Not the nappy. Not Pomfrey.
Snape.
He knew now.
Everyone assumed Snape was an Alpha — he let them.
Encouraged it.
But the Big Voice was unmistakable.
Only a Caregiver could use it.
Pomfrey wasn’t finished. She retrieved a blue cotton onesie, slightly too big, with the zipper up the back.
“I adjusted it,” she said. “Figured he might be a wriggler.”
Snape rolled his eyes but began undoing the restraints.
He slid Harry’s legs into the onesie, guided his arms through, and zipped it at the back.
Harry huffed.
“I feel stupid.”
Snape’s voice softened — without magic this time, but still grounding.
“It’s normal.”
He sat back beside the bed, rubbing slow, steady circles into Harry’s back.
“You were a good boy for listening,” he murmured. “You can rest now.”72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvnXPGJqNnR
Harry melted into the pillow.
The circles on his back turned his mind foggy and warm.
Running seemed impossible now — too heavy, too far away.
72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXBNqXT4WSH
Pomfrey returned a few minutes later, smoothing her apron.
“East Wing emergency,” she said. “A charm mishap. Nothing dangerous.”
Harry didn’t move.
He wanted to.
He wanted to bolt to the nearest cupboard and hide forever.
But Snape’s hand kept tracing those soft, steady circles.
“You’re a big softy, Severus,” Pomfrey teased.
Snape shot her a glare fit to kill.
“Say that again and I’ll hex your tea kettle.”
She only smirked and moved around the infirmary, gathering things.
Moments later, she returned with a baby bottle, freshly warmed.
Harry’s whole body tensed.
“No way,” he rasped. “No. Way.”
“It’s nearly nap time,” Pomfrey said simply. “And this will help you drift.”
“I’ve done the nappy. I’ve done the ridiculous onesie. I am not drinking from a baby bottle.”
Snape glared. “Stop being fussy.”
Pomfrey handed the bottle to him before he could explode again.
“We’ve put you through enough torture for one day,” she said. “You can hold it yourself.”
Harry huffed but took it, rolling onto his side.
72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5Aa8wdT0FF
He pressed the teat to his lips — and nothing happened.
He frowned.
Then the bottle tilted gently on its own, his head shifted to the right angle, and warm milk flowed slowly into his mouth.
A soft, involuntary coo escaped him.
He opened one eye.
Snape was still there.
Adjusting the bottle.
Supporting his head.
Harry blinked once.
Closed his eyes again.
He didn’t want to feel safe.
But it was just… easier.
ns216.73.216.98da2
and then Add to home screen.