Marauders age regression one shots

Meanies

Harry slumped onto the couch in the Gryffindor common room, rubbing a hand over his face. It had been a rough day—someone had muttered something nasty in the hallways, and while he tried to shake it off, the words had cut deeper than he'd like to admit.

Draco, regressed and in his favorite soft pajamas, padded over to Harry, tilting his head with a look of concern. "Daddy?" he asked, his little voice full of worry. "Why you look sad?"

Harry looked up, seeing Draco's wide, worried eyes, and he forced a small smile. "It's nothing, baby. Just... a meanie today. But I'll be okay."

But Draco wasn't having it. He crawled up onto Harry's lap, nestling close as he wrapped his little arms around him. "Don't like meanies," he declared firmly, squeezing Harry as tight as he could. "Meanies don't know how good Daddy is."

Harry chuckled softly, hugging Draco back and feeling his spirits lift a bit already. "Well, thank you, baby. You always make me feel better."

Draco pulled back just enough to look Harry in the eyes. "No more sad, 'kay?" he said, reaching out to pat Harry's cheek. "I know what we do."

"Oh? What's that?" Harry asked, curious.

"Cuddles," Draco said with a serious little nod. "An'... an' happy songs!" Without waiting, he hummed a cheerful tune he'd made up, swaying slightly as he continued his mission to cheer Harry up.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as Draco leaned his head against his chest, singing and wiggling in his lap. The warmth of his little one's efforts melted away the sting of those hurtful words, and he leaned down, kissing the top of Draco's head. "You're my sunshine, you know that?" he murmured.

Draco beamed up at him, eyes sparkling. "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Draco. More than anything."

As they sat together, cocooned in their own little world, the harshness of the day faded away, replaced with the pure warmth of Draco's innocent, boundless love.