here comes the boyyyy
The storm sky cried almost as much as Remus did when he first held the boy. Earthen skin and the most charming toothless smile, unlike Remus who was all iron fangs and bloody past.
An infant lying on a flower the size of a crib as the stem and leaves worked their way to rock him gently, the wind caressing his face.
What would have happened, if he’d been here two minutes earlier? Just two minutes before dawn when the full moon was still soaring in the sky.
Remus’s hands were filthy with dirt underneath his nails. In the forest with his pupils still slit as he stood beside the boy in rags, anyone would know what he was if he stumbled upon him.
He just didn’t know if they survived to tell the tale.
The storm erased the sun’s spotlight as it came pouring down. The little boy giggled as Remus bent down to pick him up.
‘His eyes are so green.’ Was his first positive thought.
Green, green eyes. The colour which you saw in witch’s cauldrons or precious emeralds. Ones you saw and thought of scales on a snake or poisons or venoms.
Remus only saw a baby using little hands to grab at his brown hair. That was enough to shed tears about.
Werewolves, the cruel creatures. Creatures that rose on full moons to howl stronger than the other canines in the woods. Creatures that might have killed loving parents in bloodlust, and might have not even remembered, once they transformed back.
Werewolves, the cruel creatures. One of them walked by the forest getting soaked wet right this moment, shivering through his rags as he took a little infant to the cottage he usually dreaded visiting, letting the baby play with his hair all he liked.
Later that day he would realise there was neither taste of blood in his mouth nor bones or bodies on the forest floor. It wouldn’t do much to ease his mind.
Later that day he would realise how unfit he was to take care of a child. He would go to the bedroom of the cottage he had in the woods, and watch the baby laugh and hold out his pudgy arms to be picked up. He would smile.
Later that day he would realise he could become fit enough, if it meant taking care of him. If it meant loving this child like his own. Later that day he would name him Harry.
______________________________
Remus Lupin was about to start crying again. He seriously was.
“How sure are you that you can’t watch him for tonight?”
“Pretty darn sure.” The blacksmith woman, Marlene, huffed. “Dorcas got bitten by some silver fucking serpent while she was in the woods, she’s got red and gold spots all over her body.”
Her wife, Dorcas, had been too sick to visit his house in the village. It felt strange to see Marlene in his house without her. He’d met them when they were newlyweds about six years ago, when they’d volunteered to watch Harry on a full moon without knowing he was a werewolf, thinking of him as a tired parent in need of some babysitters before heading to the next town over for a day. And ever since, he always felt like he saw them as two bodies of one person.
He knew Marlene and Dorcas. But he couldn’t be sure if he knew Marlene or Dorcas.
“We’ve called in every healer in the village to help her, but they’ve all been sitting there with their mouths open like jackasses.” She told him, “They’ve been talking amongst themselves in whispers. But they just treat me like I’m the one acting dumb when I ask ‘em what’s wrong.”
She was trying to be angry, but her voice wavered near the end of her sentence. Remus frowned. A little sniffle caught his notice, and his eyes widened. She was crying. The woman who everyone thought was as tough as a boulder was breaking down in front of him.
He tucked her underneath his shoulder, letting her cry a little there. She was worried for her wife, frustrated at the pretentious healers, and now she was sitting beside Remus tearing up about it all the morning of a full moon.
“I’m sorry for asking you to watch him.” Remus murmured in her ear, “If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll be glad to do it.”
Marlene shrugged. For the first time since he met her, she seemed small next to him. She was shorter than Remus, but she could lift him up and throw him across the whole town if she tried. Burn scars littered her arms, blunt and cracked fingernails with soot dusted on them while she used them to wave hello as a little boy approached.
Harry’s hair was all messy and his little face indicated he just woke up. Usually he would be all grumpy in the mornings, but today he toddled towards her excitedly. He smiled, and it was like the sun.
“Auntie Marlene!” He exclaimed.
“Heya little fella, how have you been?” Harry’s favourite aunt smiled.
“I have been good! I can read books now!” He said excitedly, his voice holding the laughter of tingling bells.
“Can you, now? That’s mighty clever for a kid your age.”
Harry beamed at the compliment. His teeth all lined up perfectly except for the one he lost a few weeks ago. Remus looked at them, and for a second they seemed too sharp.
“Go brush your teeth, Harry.” He suddenly reminded him.
Harry pouted, “I want to talk with auntie Marlene.”
Warmth bloomed in Remus’s chest at the sight, “She’ll be here by the time you finish. Now go brush your teeth, sunshine. I’ll make breakfast.”