Marauders age regression one shots

No Broomsticks Today

Draco Malfoy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe of the Gryffindor locker room, his sharp gaze focused on Harry Potter, who was sitting on the bench swinging his legs innocently. Harry, currently deep in his regressed headspace, looked up at Draco with wide, pleading eyes.

"But Daco," Harry lisped, holding his tiny toy broomstick in his hand. "I'm weady! I can pway Qwidditch!"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Harry, no. You are not playing Quidditch right now. You're too little."

Harry pouted, clutching his toy broom tighter. "I good at fwyin'. Weawy good! You know!"

"Yes, Harry, I know you're very good," Draco replied, his voice softening slightly. "But right now, you're small, and I'm not letting you get on a broom. It's dangerous."

Harry slumped, his bottom lip jutting out in the most exaggerated sulk Draco had ever seen. "But—"

"No buts," Draco interrupted, crouching down in front of him. "Tell me, what happens if you fall off the broom?"

Harry scrunched up his face, thinking hard. "You'd catch me!" he finally declared triumphantly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And what if I'm not fast enough?"

Harry blinked, his pout wavering. "You...you awways fast 'nough, Daco."

Draco sighed and reached out, cupping Harry's cheek. "Thank you for trusting me, sweetheart, but we're not taking any chances. No flying today. Maybe when you're big again."

Harry's shoulders sagged, but he didn't argue further. "Fine," he mumbled, staring down at his toy broomstick.

Draco smiled faintly, ruffling Harry's messy hair. "Good boy. Now, how about we go outside and watch the team practice instead? You can cheer them on, and we'll get some fresh air."

Harry's eyes lit up, his pout disappearing as quickly as it had come. "I can wave fwags?"

"You can wave all the flags you want," Draco promised, standing and holding out his hand.

Harry hopped off the bench, his toy broomstick clutched tightly in one hand as he took Draco's with the other. "Daco?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You sit wif me?"

Draco smirked, leading him toward the pitch. "Of course, I'll sit with you. Someone has to make sure you don't sneak onto the field."

Harry giggled, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "No pwomises!"

Draco sighed dramatically but couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at his lips. "You'll be the death of me, Potter."

As they settled into the stands, Harry waved his imaginary flag and cheered loudly for every player, Draco by his side the entire time. No flying today, but Harry was still over the moon.