Mrs. Weasley awoke in the early morning, surprised to find a small, warm body curled-up beside her. She pulled back the blankets and found Harry sleeping soundly beside her. He had clearly been there for some time, but it was unclear exactly how long.
Mrs. Weasley gently moved him so his head was resting on a pillow. Harry stirred for only a moment but remained asleep. She then moved across the large bed to allow them both an appropriate space to sleep comfortably.
By the time Mrs. Weasley woke up for the day, Harry had pressed himself against her back again. She got out of bed and gently woke him. Harry slowly and sleepily blinked his eyelids but smiled. Mrs. Weasley returned the smile and sat next to him. “Did you get scared last night?”
Harry nodded. “I had a bad dream.” He sat up and moved closer to Mrs. Weasley. “I missed you yesterday.”
“You did? I heard you had fun though.” Harry’s smile widened and he nodded. Mrs. Weasley pulled him onto her lap. “I also heard you wet your pants.” Harry suddenly looked on the verge of tears. He was afraid of how he would be punished. “I don’t want you to do that again. If you have to go to the bathroom, you use the toilet. Now, let’s go get breakfast.”
During breakfast, a large gray owl swept down the chimney and deposited four envelopes in the center of the table. It was back up the chimney before everyone saw they bore the Hogwarts Crest. Ginny, Ron and Hermione took their letters, but Mrs. Weasley took Harry’s. He was in no state to read it himself, but she planned on purchasing his supplies, hoping for the best.
The letters contained the standard booklists, such as The Standard book of Spells (grade 6) by Miranda Goshawk and Advanced Transfiguration, as well as the usual reminders of the start of term and other important dates. This year, the letter contained a warning that NO student was to leave the castle after dark and all curfews, within school corridors, had been pulled back an hour. Any student violating these new curfews would receive at least a full week of detention.
Mrs. Weasley looked up from Harry’s booklist and saw Ginny holding a tiny, silver, Prefect’s badge. She could not help but smile and fuss, as her daughter blushed. Everyone headed upstairs to change and get ready to go buy their school supplies.
When they all returned to the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley remembered she wanted to cut Harry’s hair. She had him stand on a chair and ran her wand through the tangles, as though it were a pair of scissors or an electric trimmer. With his hair back to a reasonable length, indeed his bangs could no longer cover his forehead, the group prepared to leave.
Harry was less than enthusiastic when he asked where they going and found out they would be shopping all day. In fact, he absolutely refused to travel by Floo Powder. “I don’t wanna go that way! It’s scary.”
With no way to actually force Harry to speak and thus travel by Floo Powder, Mrs. Weasley was forced to pick him up and apparate while holding him. The others had already gone through the Floo Network and were waiting for her and Harry just outside The Leaky Cauldron’s back door.
“Hermione, would you hold Harry’s hand,” Mrs. Weasley asked, putting him down before entering Diagon Alley. “Don’t let him run off.” Harry wrenched his hand free before Hermione had fully grasped it. Hermione managed to grab hold of him and began to lead him through the alley after the others. Hermione had to practically pull Harry along, as he struggled against her, turning many heads. Diagon Alley had its usual bustling crowd, but because letters had just been sent, no other Hogwarts Students were there.
Their first stop, after Gringotts, was to buy their books. The new books were large and heavy. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had assigned two large texts for sixth-year students, Advanced Defensive Theory and The Practical Guide to Dueling and Dark Creatures. Hermione was already finding it difficult to carry her purchases and hold onto Harry.
They spent the morning buying ink and parchment, replacement quills, restocking potion kits and purchasing other necessities. By ten they were so over-laden with shopping that they had to return to Grimmauld Place to drop off what they had. Harry and Mrs. Weasley remained in The Leaky Cauldron while the others took haphazard trips and left their purchases on the kitchen table.
Ginny had wanted a cat for her gift for becoming a Prefect. She was soon carrying a beautiful Gray Tiger kitten that was snoozing in her arms. Harry was crying as Hermione pulled him up the street. Both because he had wanted a cat too and because he had gotten a nasty scratch on his arm when he happened to pull one of the feline’s tail. The shopkeeper had a potion that cleaned and mended his cuts, but it had stung horribly. He was still sniffling when they reached the next store.
By the time they had reached their final stop, Harry had proclaimed his hunger several times. Mrs. Weasley had assured him this was their last stop and then they would eat lunch. So she was most annoyed when he started to tug at her sleeve. “I told you we would eat in a few minutes,” she repeated, crouching to his level.
“I have to pee,” Harry whispered urgently.
“Can you hold it for just a little longer?” None of the shops in Diagon Alley had restrooms available to the general public. The closest was in The Leaky Cauldron, all the way at the other end of the alley.
“No,” Harry replied even more urgently than before.
Both Hermione and Ginny were still being fitted for new robes, as they had outgrown their previous. “Ron, take Harry to go to the bathroom at The Leaky Cauldron, please. We’ll have lunch at that café when you get back,” she added pointing across the street. Ron took Harry’s hand and quickly left the shop.
The boys returned much sooner than Mrs. Weasley had expected. She and the girls had just gotten to a table at the café when she firstly heard, rather than saw them return. Harry was crying loudly, as Ron lead him back, which was drawing far more attention to himself than the huge wet spot across the front of his khaki shorts.
“What happened,” Mrs. Weasley asked, picking up Harry who was still crying, sniffling loudly every once in a while.
“We’d just made it to The Leaky Cauldron when he wet his pants,” Ron replied.
“Why’s he crying so loudly,” Mrs. Weasley asked, patting Harry’s back as he cried on her shoulder. “Were you teasing him?”
“No! I think he’s just upset.”
“Harry, shush, it’s alright. You don’t need to cry,” Mrs. Weasley soothed.
“I-I’m not in tr-trouble,“ Harry sniffled.
“Of course not, dear. It was just an accident.” Harry was still sniffling, clearly worked-up and tired. “I know, why don’t we go home and take a nap? Do you want to do that?” Harry nodded and laid his head on her shoulder, tears still flowing.
“Come on you three. I’ll make us something for lunch. Here, take all this back by Floo Powder. I’m going to take Harry to bed.” She apparated from the café, leaving Hermione, Ron and Ginny.
Mrs. Weasley appeared next to Harry’s bed and laid him at the end. She took off his sandals and removed his wet shorts and underwear. She wiped him dry and put him in dry underwear, not bothering with pants, since he was going to nap. Harry was still sniffling every now and then as Mrs. Weasley tucked him in and kissed his forehead. She left to make lunch for the others and herself.
Harry woke up later, feeling hungry. His eyes were itchy and irritated. He climbed out of bed, wearily rubbing his eyes and walked to the door. He met Hermione in the doorway. “Oh, you’re already awake. Mrs. Weasley wondered if you wanted some lunch before it gets any later.”
Harry raised his arms above himself and Hermione picked him up. “Let’s get you dressed first.” But Harry held tight when Hermione tried to put him down and put a pair of shorts on him. “Harry, you have to let go. Just for a second.”
“No,” Harry whined, and he tightened his arms and legs around her. Unable to remove the stubborn, little boy, Hermione grabbed the shorts and took them and Harry downstairs.
Harry let go of Hermione in the kitchen, but only when given the option to be held by Mrs. Weasley. Hermione, Ron and Ginny left the kitchen and Mrs. Weasley managed to get Harry dressed and sitting at the table. He ate quietly but played with his food as he did.
The remainder of the afternoon and evening were uneventful. Harry played in his room, occasionally convincing one of the others to play too for a while. He ate dinner with the others and was in bed by nine thirty, as usual, even though he protested that he was not tired, yawning loudly.
Mrs. Weasley awoke with a start later that night. She steadied her breathing when she realized it was only Harry, crawling under her blankets, that had woken her. “Did you have another nightmare?”
“Uh-huh.” Harry’s pajamas were damp with cold sweat and his hair was matted as though it had been wet too.
“Well, you’re alright now. Let’s get you back to bed.” Had he been her own child, Mrs. Weasley might have let Harry stay. Indeed, nearly all of her children had climbed into bed beside her and Mr. Weasley at some point in their childhood. But Harry was not her son, even if he was thinking of her as a mother, and his true chronological age made the whole idea seem awkward.
“No,” Harry pleaded as she picked him up. “It’s scary.”
“There is nothing in your room to be afraid of.” Still, Harry struggled futilely. “Harry, big boys sleep in their own beds. You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Harry nodded, as they entered his room. Ron was snoring loudly. “Then you can sleep in your own bed,” Mrs. Weasley concluded, laying Harry on his pillow, having to softly, but firmly swat the outside of his thigh, for him to let go..
“No,” Harry yelled, surprisingly not waking Ron.
“Yes you can. You’re a big boy, remember?”
“I wanna be a little boy again.” Harry wrapped himself around Mrs. Weasley again, while she stood confused about his statement.
“No, Harry, you are not a baby. Now lay down and go to sleep.”
“I want to be little!”
Mrs. Weasley sat on the bed and sighed. “If you want to be a baby again, we have to change some things. You couldn’t play with your toys anymore; you’d have to play with baby toys.”
“Why?”
“Because your toys have little pieces that you could choke on or stick up your nose, if you were little. You’d have to eat baby food and drink from a bottle again too, because that‘s what little boys do.” Harry sat still, thinking about what all this meant. He could not remember his early childhood, what it was like to be a baby, but he did not want to sleep alone tonight. He felt a need to be cuddled and told there was nothing to be afraid of.
It was obvious to Mrs. Weasley that Harry was having second thought. Before she could say her final idea to convince him, Harry spoke. “I don’t want to be little. But I’m scared.”
“There is nothing to be afraid of. You just had a bad dream. But if you want, I’ll stay here until you fall back to sleep.” Harry agreed to this and was soon back under his blankets, with Mrs. Weasley sitting beside him. He fought to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids were heavy and with a source of comfort visible so close, Harry was soon asleep. Mrs. Weasley waited a few minutes longer. She wanted to be sure he would not awaken when she moved and left the room.