cradle of the dark arts · Y/n story by @brilockhart

The air in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory was thick with the acrid, metallic scent of a potion gone catastrophically wrong. It was past midnight, the common room fires banked low, casting long, trembling shadows across the stone floor.

Theodore Nott

Oh, Merlin’s saggy left—

Blaise Zabini

Don’t finish that sentence, Theo. Just… don’t.

On the expensive Persian rug, amidst the glittering shards of a shattered crystal vial, sat a baby. A perfectly formed, dark-haired, pale-skinned infant, wrapped in the far-too-large remains of Tom Riddle’s prefect robes. It blinked up at them with wide, curious, and unnervingly intelligent dark eyes.

Draco Malfoy

voice a strained whisper That’s… that’s him. Isn’t it?

Theodore Nott

The de-aging potion. We were only supposed to test it on a beetle. He knocked it over when he lunged for Mattheo’s notes.

Blaise Zabini

A week. The book said the effects last a week. We have to keep a… a baby… who is actually the most dangerous wizard of our generation… hidden. In Hogwarts. For a week.

The baby—Tom—let out a soft, inquiring coo. He patted the silky fabric of the robe with a tiny, perfect hand.

Draco Malfoy

He needs milk. Or pumpkin juice. Or something. And nappies. Merlin, the nappies.

Theodore Nott

We can’t do this alone. We need someone… discreet. Smart. Someone who won’t immediately run to a professor.

Blaise Zabini

runs a hand over his face There’s only one person mad enough to help us and clever enough to pull it off.

Theodore Nott

nods grimly We need Y/n.