Marauders age regression one shots

Operation Potter

The Slytherin common room was unusually lively for a Saturday afternoon. Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott sat in a semi-circle, watching Draco Malfoy grumble from the couch, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a stuffed snake tucked under one arm. His face was set in a pout as he kicked his feet against the armrest.

"Potter this, Potter that," Pansy mocked under her breath, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You'd think he's secretly in love with him."

"Even now," Blaise added with a chuckle, "he can't let it go. We're supposed to be the calming Potter this, Potter that."

Draco scowled deeper, muttering incoherently about "stupid Gryffindors" and "always showing off."

Theodore sighed and leaned back. "This has to stop. If I hear him say 'Potter' one more time, I might hex myself."

Pansy suddenly sat up, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You know what? Let's just... bring Potter here. If Draco's going to be so obsessed with him, we might as well make him useful."

Blaise smirked. "Operation Potter. I like it."
It wasn't hard to track Harry down—he was in the library, of course, finishing up some overdue homework. Pansy and Blaise sauntered over, looking far too pleased with themselves.

"Potter," Blaise said smoothly, leaning on the edge of the table, "we need a favor."

Harry arched a brow, closing his book slowly. "A Slytherin favor? I'm terrified already."

Pansy huffed. "Draco won't shut up about you. It's driving us insane."

"And?" Harry asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"And he's in headspace," Blaise continued, smirking. "You're going to babysit him."

Harry blinked, surprised for a moment—but not unpleasantly. His heart swelled just thinking about Draco, soft and small, curled up in blankets. "Wait... you *want* me to look after him?"

"More like we're forcing you," Pansy said dramatically.

Harry stood, already slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Say no more."
When Harry followed Blaise and Pansy into the Slytherin common room, he was greeted by the sight of Draco lying on the couch, still sulking with his stuffed snake tucked under his chin.

"Draco," Pansy called in a sing-song voice. "Look who we found."

Draco's head snapped up, eyes narrowing when they landed on Harry. "What is he doing here?"

Harry smiled warmly and crouched beside the couch. "Hey, Dragon."

Draco's scowl softened just a bit at the nickname, though he still tried to look annoyed. "Go away, Potter."

Harry only grinned wider, ignoring the huffiness. "Nope. I'm here to babysit." He gently pulled the stuffed snake from Draco's grip, making the blonde squawk in protest.

"Potter!" Draco whined, trying to snatch it back. "That's mine!"

Harry held it just out of reach, laughing softly. "Yeah, I know. But you need cuddles, don't you?"

Draco's pout wobbled, and he folded his arms across his chest. "Don't."

"Come here, you grumpy little thing," Harry murmured, pulling Draco into his lap despite the blonde's weak protests.

The Slytherins exchanged knowing looks, smugly satisfied with how things were unfolding.
Once Draco was securely in Harry's arms, his resistance faded almost instantly. His head drooped against Harry's shoulder, and he let out a soft, content sigh.

"You're lucky I like you," Draco mumbled sleepily, fingers clutching the front of Harry's jumper.

"I know," Harry whispered, brushing a kiss against the top of Draco's platinum hair. "I like you too, Dragon."

Theodore smirked from across the room. "You know, this is way better than listening to him complain."

Pansy laughed quietly. "He's going to deny all of this later, isn't he?"

"Absolutely," Blaise agreed.

But in that moment, none of it mattered. Draco was safe, happy, and tucked close to the boy he'd been pretending not to care about for far too long.

And Harry? Harry would stay right there—because taking care of Draco was all he ever wanted to do.