Snow
Remus put on the kettle, like he did every morning. He pulled out two cups and put in teabags.
It was quiet in the little cabin, like every morning. One would think a toddler of seventeen months of age meant a lot of screaming and laughing and crying and general ruckus, but an almost eerie silence had enveloped the cabin like a dome. The lights and cheer from the distant outside hadn’t reached it; everything inside was dim and muffled as though moving through cotton.
Remus lifted his heavy arm through the cotton to turn off the kettle and pour their tea when Sirius spoke.
“Snow.”
His voice was slow to travel through the silence and when it reached Remus it was barely audible. There was a time when they had spoken every morning; Remus couldn’t even remember what of. What was ever so interesting about another day, another breakfast, that there was anything to say about it? Was it once brighter, his chest lighter?
“Snow,” Sirius said again from far away but Remus’s brain couldn’t push the cotton away to understand what he was trying to say. “Remus.”
At his name Remus did hum distractedly to signal that he was listening while he put sugar in his tea and stirred.
“Snow. Look.”
A hand grabbed his shoulder and twirled him around in the direction of the window.
And by Merlin, it was white.
It took him a few seconds to catch up.
“But we don’t get snow here.”
The Coast of Wales was not like Hogwarts. Snowfall was rare, and especially this much.
Sirius had picked up the toddler and carried him to the window so the boy could look outside. His little hand pointed at the whiteness outside and Sirius did the same.
“Look, that’s snow. It snowed last night.”
Harry put one hand in his mouth to chew on it and pointed again with the other.
“Yes. Snow,” Sirius repeated patiently, used to not getting a reply.
“’ow.”
Sirius’s head shot around to look at the toddler.
“Snow,” he repeated.
“’now.”
Remus had to blink back tears while Harry started to wrangle around in Sirius’s arms, trying to reach for the window.
“Outside? You want to go outside, play in the snow?”
The toddler didn’t speak again but his movements made it clear he wanted to get closer to the white stuff.
He helped Sirius pack the little boy up in warm clothes. Once they were done, he looked more like a starfish than a 1.5-year-old. Sirius put a heating charm on him.
And then Sirius led Harry outside and the boy made a step in the snow. And then another. And then he insisted on walking without Sirius’s help and fell immediately, but his godfather was by his side to brush the snow out of his face and help him back up.
This went on until Harry was babbling words and grabbing at the snow and Sirius’s smile was as bright as he couldn’t remember seeing it for months.
“Here.” Remus moved to their side. “I’ve got him.”
Sirius gave him a brief look of thanks before taking a step back and transforming into Padfoot, resulting in a loud “Paddy!” from Harry.
The massive dog licked Harry’s face before bowing down and then running off through the snow. They watched him roll around in the snow, bite it and jump to catch the flakes out of the air.
Whenever the boy called for Paddy and tried to get to him, Padfoot was already by his side, sniffing him and licking his face while the boy was trying (and failing, with his mittens) to grab his fur. He’d stay and then run off again in a display of energy Remus only now became acutely aware of having missed for so long.
After having gone off in a whirlwind again, Padfoot reached the shed. There was some banging and growling and Remus was almost ready to take out his wand and fight when Padfoot returned, pulling an old sleigh backwards.
He helped him put Harry securely on the sleigh and harness Padfoot up front.
Then he sat back and watched Padfoot pull the sleigh around in the snow, while keeping his wand at hand to make sure the screaming and giggling Harry didn’t fall off.
The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a smile.
He took off his glove to touch the cold snow. He felt his own body warm against it as it melted in his hand. The toddler’s laughter and Padfoot’s barks filled out the silence. He thought about hanging up the fairy lights and decorations they kept in the shed.
Perhaps they would be okay for Christmas. Just the three of them.