Babies Again (Harry Potter FanFic)

15. No Chocolate Milk Before Bed

15. No chocolate milk before bed

Okay, okay, you've all peer-pressured me into another chapter. Dedicated to all of my lovely commenters from the last chapter, in particular FellowFrostFan14 for the idea/desperate pleading. Enjoy, you wonderful Justified Potterheads!

"Choc-it milk, choc-it milk, choc-it milk," Harry chanted, banging a sippy cup against Charlie's leg as the older boy tried to build a ship in a bottle. The seamen shouted encouragement as they watched him struggle to slip the boom into the mast. He gave up, dropping the bottle on the table to the indignant cries of the little men, and turned to his younger brother.

"Okay, what do you want?"

"Choc-it milk," Harry repeated, his voice verging on a whine.

Remembering his mother's orders of I'm going to take a shower and your father won't be back until you're in bed, if you want to see a broomstick before you're 87 you will take good care of your siblings until I get back downstairs, Charlie stood up and took the sippy. As he opened the fridge, he heard a small teary voice.

"Oops."

Charlie said a word under his breath that would have made his mother turn his ears purple as he slammed the fridge shut and chucked the sippy on the bench. Turning to Harry, he saw a frighteningly familiar sight: Harry standing in a small puddle, his legs soaked and tears threatening at his eyes.

"Shit, Harry!"

"None of that language, thank you!" Molly ordered. "Oh, Harry."

She saw the puddle and swept the boy into her arms, ushering him into the nearest bathroom where she stripped his clothes off and tucked him into the shower, as a set of clothes danced into the room. Harry watched tearfully as a folded T-shirt landed on the counter, followed by a singlet, jeans, and -

"Not a diaper!"

"It's not a diaper, Harry, it's a Pull-Up. And I told you that you had to wear them until you had no accidents, and you went and put big boy undies on and now there's a mess on my kitchen floor."

"But I didn't have any accidents earlier!"

"Because I told your brothers to take you to the bathroom every half hour," Molly countered. "I don't know why they didn't pick up on the fact that you were missing a Pull-Up. And don't think that I'm letting this go - you'll be finding yourself in a lovely time out when this is sorted. Right, out you get."

She turned the water off and scooped the boy up in a fluffy towel. Squirming as she dried him off, Harry was into the Pull-Up and jeans before he could protest. He whined as Molly towelled his hair, trying to wriggle out of her grasp but she wouldn't let him go, whipping the T-shirt over his head and corralling his arms into the sleeves before taking his hand. She led him into the living room and pointed to the footstool in the corner of the room, that had been christened the official Time Out Step (complete with a sign wonkily sticky taped to the back off it, and marks from where Fred and George had written rude words and hastily scrubbed them out before Hermione got a chance to tell Molly). Harry sulkily sat on it, glaring at the wall with his arms crossed, drumming his heels on the footstool.

Molly let the attitude go, showing her anger to the bathroom door as she glared at it. The soiled clothes - including the offending underwear - made their way to the laundry, where Molly decided to deal with them later as she cleaned up the kitchen floor.

"Thanks for watching him," she said to Charlie, who was back at the ship in a bottle.

"Mum, it wasn't my fault that he-"