Chapter 1
785words
"This is how things are."
Hermione pushed a wooden box half her height in front of Harry, then collapsed wearily into a chair. "I found a solution, but... something seems to have gone wrong."
Harry opened the box, his jaw dropping in shock.
A tiny figure lay in the box, black eyes peacefully closed.
It was a child who looked about four or five years old, with Professor Snape's signature black hair and eyes. The gloomy, stern expression that typically shrouded his face had vanished, replaced by peaceful tranquility. Oversized black robes draped over his tiny frame like a cape, creating an almost comical sight.
Harry scratched his head. "Hermione, you put Professor Snape in a box?"
"Would you rather have rumors spreading around the school tomorrow that I have a son?" Hermione rolled her eyes, then added seriously, "The reversal ritual went wrong. It fixed the splitting, but he obviously hasn't returned to his normal state."
Harry looked at the miniature Snape before him and shuddered, imagining the professor's fury once he woke up and recovered.
"Damn it, what am I even doing here?"
The whole mess had started just last night.
Moonlight filtered into the potions classroom, casting eerie shadows across the silent glass bottles lining the shelves.
Harry carefully accepted a potion bottle glowing with silver light, his fingers trembling slightly. Being allowed to participate in Professor Snape's private experiment beat boring spell classes any day.
"Pour in three drops, no more, no less." Snape's voice echoed through the empty classroom. In the ancient cauldron before him, an unknown liquid emitted an otherworldly blue glow.
Harry held his breath, twisted his wrist lightly, and watched as silver droplets traced an arc into the cauldron. One drop, two drops, three drops, four drops—
Wait, four drops?
Harry snapped out of his trance, not yet fully grasping what he'd done when Snape's urgent voice cut through the air.
"Step back!"
Everything happened in a flash. A white light erupted from the cauldron's center, engulfing Professor Snape. As the room blurred around him, Harry witnessed something impossible.
Professor Snape's figure split within the light like a shattering mirror—becoming two, then four, then eight, then countless fragments...
"Foolish Gryffindor boy..." countless exasperated voices echoed in unison. "What have you done!"
Harry had frantically sought Hermione's help. She'd spent the entire night researching and found a restoration spell, but for some unknown reason, things hadn't returned to normal.
Harry looked at the miniature Professor Snape before him, resigned to fate as he and Hermione pushed the trunk containing the professor into his quarters.
Little Snape finally came to his senses, climbed out of the trunk, and walked up to Harry. "Who are you?"
Harry froze, shooting a panicked glance at Hermione.
Hermione hurried over, crouched down, and observed carefully. "Memory loss... an expected side effect. I'm guessing it's from the mismatch between body and soul. The headmaster won't be back until next week. We should keep this quiet until then..."
The two exchanged helpless glances.
Getting no answers, little Snape sat quietly in his oversized black robes, dark eyes scanning everything around him. Though his memory was gone, that keen observational ability remained intact. He studied Harry's worried face, then Hermione's exhausted expression, his small brows furrowing slightly as he tried to decipher the tense atmosphere.
Hermione turned to look at little Snape. "Harry, we need to talk about how you're going to take care of him."
Harry followed her gaze toward little Snape, whose familiar yet strange face now showed only confusion. The once intimidating Professor Snape looked fragile and helpless.
"Me? I don't know the first thing about kids." Harry ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"Then you'll have to learn," Hermione said firmly. "Harry, this isn't optional. Can you imagine the chaos if the school found out what happened to Professor Snape? Besides..." she paused, "he's just an ordinary child now who needs care. You can't expect someone else to clean up your mess."
Little Snape listened quietly to their conversation. Though he couldn't fully understand, he sensed the tension. He slowly stood up, dragging his oversized robes as he walked to Harry's side, and gently touched his arm.
"You look worried," little Snape said in his childish voice. "Is it because of me?"
Harry looked into those innocent black eyes, sighed, and gently ruffled little Snape's hair. "I'm sorry, Professor."
Little Snape tilted his head, curious about the title "Professor," but asked nothing, simply studying the subtle changes in Harry's expression with those keen eyes.
Hermione watched them. "I'll do my best to find a way to fix this, but until then..."
"Until then, I'll take good care of him."
