Harry helped Mrs. Weasley make dinner and then went upstairs to tell the others it was time to eat. He was exceptionally neat and well-mannered at dinner. He ate everything put on his plate, even the vegetables, which still tasted horrible to his young tongue. He did not make a mess, even with the ice cream for dessert. Ginny and Hermione were given the task of cleaning up, so Harry went back to his room.
Harry was very surprised when Ron asked if he wanted to play chess. He desperately wanted to say no, still hurt from the things Ron had said and done, but it had been so long since Harry had played. Torn, he reluctantly agreed and Ron set up the board on his bed.
They played two games in almost complete silence. They did not even notice Hermione and Ginny come in, wait a few minutes and then leave again. Harry was trying his hardest to win but Ron did not want to lose to the five-year-old incarnation of his best friend. The first game ended in stalemate and the second was shaping out to as well.
His foolish pride on the line, Ron moved to distract Harry verbally. “So Harry, are you done acting like a baby?” There was a childish curiosity in his voice, but Harry, completely alert and focused saw what his friend was trying to do. Yes, his friend, for Harry was quite sure a “best” friend would not treat him as Ron had.
“Shut up,” Harry spat disdainfully, careful not to raise his voice. The final result was close, but Harry came out the victor. “Wanna play again,” he asked, a childish smirk on his face.
But Ron had already begun to put the his set away. “Nah, I’m kind of bored with chess tonight.”
“Bored? You’re just sore I beat you. You’re the one who needs to grow up, not me!”
“Whatever you say Harry. I’m going to go find Hermione.” Ron got up and started for the door, leaving his chess set and Harry on his bed.
“Why? So the two of you can kiss in secret again?” Ron hesitated, ever so slightly, at the door but left without saying a word. Harry moved to his own belongings, searching for something to occupy himself with. He found his new Quidditch book, lying unread on top of his clothes. He grabbed it, climbed onto his bed and began to read.
Reading did not seem to hold Harry’s attention. Not that it ever really had, but surely Quidditch was worth reading about. He found himself not reading the print but gaping at the moving pictures, making his own story.
Harry snapped the book shut and closed his eyes tight. He willed himself to want to read, not do this childish game. He opened the book and began again. Harry did not even finish a page before he was thumbing through the book, searching for pictures.
Harry did not look up until Mrs. Weasley entered with a basket of clean laundry and began to sort it at the foot of his bed. She had apparently not noticed Ron, who had entered moments later and was standing behind her, making faces at Harry. Harry remained silent; Ron was obviously trying to get him to tattle, like a child would.
“Harry,” Mrs. Weasley began, calling his attention back to her as she sorted clothes. “Nearly all your underwear had stains in the back. I want you to be more …”
“Maybe he needs to wear diapers.” The rest of the room seemed to freeze as Mrs. Weasley spun around and slapped her youngest son. She quickly composed herself again and turned back to Harry.
“Harry dear, why don’t you go play somewhere else while I talk to Ron.” Her voice was very cheerful but Harry dared not be asked twice. He quickly jumped off the bed and Mrs. Weasley handed him a few toy cars. “Good boy,” she added patting his shoulder as she walked him to the door.
Harry tried to listen at the door but could here nothing for some reason. That and the cars he held were a big distraction. By the time Mrs. Weasley left the room, he was happily playing, racing the toys along the top of the landing’s horizontal banister.
“Harry, it’s nine o’clock,” Mrs. Weasley commented, carrying Hermione’s and Ginny’s clothes to their room. “I laid out some pajamas for you too.”
“Ok,” Harry mumbled, absentmindedly. He still had trouble believing how much fun these simple toys were, but there he was, playing like any child would. It was only when Mrs. Weasley came back that he realized just how engrossed he was.
“Harry! I told you it was time for you to take a bath. Now don’t make me tell you again.” Harry left the toys where they sat and rushed into his room, yelling at himself, in his head, for his behavior.
Harry was surprised to see Ron already in bed as he gathered his towel and pajamas. He quickly, but thoroughly bathed, lest Mrs. Weasley think he could not do it himself after all. He had just reluctantly put on the Pull-Ups Mrs. Weasley had laid out with his pajamas, when he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror on the door.
He had not yet had time to examine himself in a mirror since the change occurred. He was too small to see the mirrors over the sinks and had not noticed this mirror before. The face of a small, scrawny, curious child starred back at him. There were few differences despite that he thought he resembled a toddler because he was wearing nothing but a Pull-Ups. He did not bother examining what he could without a mirror.
His hair had grown long; his bangs could cover his eyes, but was still untidy, as it always had been. Size was obvious, but he was even small for this age. Harry guessed he had always been small, given the poor nutrition he had received living with his aunt and uncle. Thusly he had very little remaining baby fat. Many children still have traces of this after age six, sometimes until they are ten, but Harry was lacking and looked tiny. His stickly arms and legs were now hairless and smoothed skinned again. His eyes still contained their brilliance, but were filled with childhood wonderment. Nothing remained of his teenage self but his mind and emotions and even they were being shared by his younger self.
Harry quickly but clumsily finished dressing, hating how he looked. He brushed his teeth and left the bathroom, finally crawling under the covers on his bed. Mrs. Weasley came in, waited for Harry to settle himself and turned off the lights. “Goodnight boys,” she whispered, closing the door.
Harry laid on his back in the dark for a few minutes. Only his and Ron’s rhythmic breathing disturbed the quiet. But then Ron spoke, having turned from his back to face Harry’s bed. “Harry?”
Harry was in no mood to talk to his now former friend and rolled onto his side, away from Ron. “Harry?” Ron’s voice was a little more pleading this time, but Harry produced only a soft, fake snore as his response. He felt and heard one of Ron’s pillows thrown into him and roll onto the floor, but still remained silent.
Harry woke to Mrs. Weasley’s gentle shaking and voice the next day. “Harry, it’s time for breakfast.” He rolled over, burying his head in the soft pillow. “Do you want to be sixteen or five today?” Something snapped in Harry’s head and he remembered the deal he had made.
“Sixteen,” he mumbled, still very tired and his eyes closed. He could here Ron moving beside him.
“Alright. Get up then and get dressed.” Harry laid exactly where he was as Mrs. Weasley went to wake the girls. Inexplicably tired he snuggled up next to his pillow, pulling the blankets tighter.
“Harry! I told you to get up!” Mrs. Weasley had walked back past the door and saw Harry still asleep. “If I have to come back again, you won’t be happy.” She then yanked back his blankets, exposing him to the cold morning air.
Harry put his bare feet on the frigid floor as Mrs. Weasley left and immediately pulled himself back on the bed. He felt a strange longing for some one to put his socks on for him. He shook this from his head, but it was not so odd, considering somebody had done just that for nearly a month.
Harry crawled down his bed and retrieved a pair of socks from the duffel bags. He laid back, raising his feet into the air to put them on and once again got down on the cold floor. He got clothes for the day and began to dress. The shirt and underwear came easy enough, but he fell over when pulling up his pants. He shrugged this off as he headed for breakfast. He was just out of practice, if that was possible.
Harry arrived at the bottom of the stone steps into the basement kitchen, just as Mrs. Weasley did. She turned back around and went to the table. Harry mostly picked at his breakfast, but ate the majority. Mrs. Weasley then said it was Harry’s and Ron’s turn to cleanup and left.
Ginny and Hermione remained behind as Harry and Ron started their chore. Ron opened his mouth a couple times before managing to speak. “Harry, I’m sorry. I’ve been a real …”
“Idiot,” prompted Hermione.
“Prat,” prompted Ginny. It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to say “baby,” but he remained silent.
“Yeah. All those. I’m really sorry mate.” Ron waited for Harry to respond, but Harry said nothing. Ron looked to his sister and Hermione for help, but none came. Harry was determined to not accept Ron’s apology too quickly.
“I don’t blame him,” Ginny finally said, starting for the staircase, followed shortly by Hermione. Harry remained silent for the duration of the chore and started upstairs without looking back. Ron surged past him on the narrow, stone staircase and blocked his way at the top.
“Harry, I’m really, really sorry. I said some things I shouldn’t have, but I won’t tease you anymore.” Ron was almost pleading. He seemed to finally realize what he had risked in teasing a friend. Harry could see no harm in letting him dangle a while longer, but something told him that was a childish thing to do.
Furthermore, there was something nagging at the back of Harry’s mind. Something saying he needed Ron to forgive him for something too, but what? It did not matter, if he did not forgive Ron, Ron would not forgive him. “Alright, I forgive you.”
“You do?” Ron looked even more confused than usual. “Er, I mean, thanks.”
“We were both acting like children. But that’s something I don’t plan to do again, ever.”
Given that Grimmauld Place had been so thoroughly cleaned last summer and was actually being maintained by the Order, there were actually few chores to be done. He spent most of his time with his friends, who were finally acting like everything was normal. This was mostly because Harry was behaving more maturely than he ever had. He was expected to help with either preparing or cleaning up after every meal though, but so were the others now.
Mrs. Weasley had yet to find other chores for them, so the four just spent the rest of the day doing what they wanted. Harry and Ron were still on edge around each other, but Harry did not see much of Ron except at meals that day. It was also the same with Hermione.
“Harry,” Ginny began. They were sitting on her bed playing cards in the afternoon. “Do you know where my brother and Hermione keep disappearing to?”
“No, do you?” It was not a lie as he had only found them once.
“No. I just thought you might have been looking for them one time and found them. I don’t really care, but it’s just weird that they are never around.”
“It’s a big house,” Harry offered.
The Order of the Phoenix had a meeting that night and Mrs. Weasley was adamant that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny stay upstairs after dinner. Harry did not mind as much as the others. There was no way he would let Snape, among others in the order see him as he was. The four were sitting in Harry and Ron’s room completely bored. It was only eight, but Harry was exhausted already. Fighting the tendency to act like a child was more difficult than he had imagined, particularly now.
“I wish I had an Extendable Ear,” Ron groaned, breaking the silence.
“Mum would kill you,” Ginny stressed each word. Harry stifled a yawn that was more from being tired than bored.
“I’m going to get ready for bed,” Harry said, getting off his bed.
“Yeah, I’m kind of tired too,” Hermione said.
“It’s only eight thirty,” Ron groaned. But Ginny and Hermione were already leaving. With nothing better to do, Ron too started getting ready for bed. Needless to say, Mrs. Weasley was very surprised to find all of the children asleep when the meeting was over at ten.