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There are an innumerable number of gods in their mythology, and not one is violent enough in their ideas of revenge to satisfy the wolf that dwells in Remus. He can still feel Moony pacing around and snarling as he has since Minerva had shown on his doorstep a week prior with an emaciated Harry Potter. Moony isn’t alone - Remus is also eager to enact his revenge against those who would hurt the cub of his pack.
Currently, however, Remus is horrified because he has just come to a startling and sobering realization - Harry has no idea how to play. The child is five, and his automatic reaction to any sort of down time is to find something that needs tidied or washed or painted and do it. He hates that it has taken him a full week to realize that Harry is the one who has been scrubbing and cleaning everything at night while he was sleeping and not an elf sent to him by Minerva or Albus.
“Harry, the only job I have for you is to play.” He had informed Harry gently, and the boy’s reply is where his horror has stemmed from.
He whispers in a voice just barely audible. “Playing belongs to Dudley. Chores belong to Freak.” Harry says finally, face blanched and terrified, and it takes everything inside Remus to contain the mournful howl that threatens to escape.
In an effort to tame the extremely pissed off wolf, Remus sits on the floor and pulls over the small bucket of toys Minerva had given him when she had handed him with Harry. It had been all she had available at the moment, and admittedly, Remus knows now that any more variety to his choices would completely overwhelm the child.
“No, playing belongs to Harry.” Remus says softly, and places the bucket directly in front of Harry. To his surprise, the child shifts away so he’s no longer facing it, and a hint of a hurt look comes into those expressive green eyes.
His heart breaks and he moves the bucket again. “These are yours.” He fights to keep his tone level and hopes simple sentences will break through Harry’s resolve but to his consternation, the boy just stares at him unblinking.
It takes nearly the rest of the morning, but once he’s certain the child will continue to play with the small dinosaur he had finally picked up, he floos Minerva to explain what he’s noticed. He talks about the flinching, and the chores, and the fact the five year old was making him breakfast this morning.
She is silent for a long moment, and sighs. Pursing her lips, she informs Remus that she will send someone over to him in a minute, and to keep his temper when his guest arrives. He gives her his solemn word that he will not hex whoever steps through his floo, and in ten minutes he almost regrets that promise when Severus Snape steps through.
Fearing the worst reaction, he’s surprised when all the other man does is nod placidly at Remus and then ask where Harry was. Remus motions to the living room and they watch the boy through the wide opening between the living area and the kitchen with the floo. Remus wants to ask why Minerva sent him of all people, but he keeps his questions inside, unwilling to risk offending the other man and him refusing to help Harry at all.
“Minerva already shared what you told her. Anything else I should know?” Remus shakes his head and they go back to watching Harry. After a bit longer, he nods to himself sharply. “How long did it take to get him to play with the dinosaur?”
“Two hours.” Remus is flabbergasted that hostile words and hexes have yet to be exchanged and his confusion only grows when he sees the concern being aimed at Harry through the dour man’s gaze.
Another sharp nod. “As I would expect. You are welcome to observe, but I ask that you remain silent. I will inform you when your input is welcome again.”
Remus nods his consent and watches as Severus crouches just inside the living room and realizes he’s putting himself lower to be at the small child’s level to minimize the level of intimidation the child will most likely feel at meeting a new person. Snape is far enough away to give the abused boy the chance to decide who can approach him. Still, Harry jumps about a foot into the air when a new voice permeates the room.
“Hello, my name is Severus. Your uncle Moony tells me your name is Harry. May I call you Harry?”
A minute shrug accompanied a suspicious look in the direction of the new intruder. “If you really wanna.” He mumbles and the dinosaur slips back into the bucket. If it wasn’t for his sharpened eyesight, he would have completely missed the slight of hand. Just how often had this five year old been punished just for touching a toy to garner that reaction?
A light click from Severus’s tongue tells Remus that the other man hadn’t missed the motion either. “Would it be alright if I came and played with you? I saw you had a little dinosaur and I think it would be marvelous to play dinosaurs with you.”
Instead of relief or happiness, the child’s eyes fills with both terror and resignation. “I don’t have a dinosaur. I wasn’t playing. I promise!” He holds out both of his empty hands as he pleads piteously, and Remus’s first reaction is to scold him for lying but remembers his promise to remain silent just in time. He clamps his jaw shut and counts backwards, trying to reign in his emotions.
“I see that. That’s a shame, because I happen to know that these toys were bought for one specific person.” Severus doesn’t move from his spot, he just nods in acknowledgement at the empty hands and continue to speak in his calm, level tones as if discussing something as benign as if announcing it would be raining once again that day. “Do you know who these toys belong to, Harry?”
He shakes his head violently and edges away from them, his hands trembling as he shoves them under his bum in an obvious yet silent plea to look and see that he isn’t touching what doesn’t belong to him. “No.” He whispers, and the voice quivers just a little.
“They belong to you, Harry.” He says softly, emphasizing carefully so there was no confusion for the skittish 5 year old.
The child doesn’t move, except for his eyes, which flick between looking at the bucket of toys and Severus’s eyes. “It’s a trick.” He finally whispers, and edges back a bit more from the darkly clothed man. “Uncle tricked me, too.”
A long beat passed before Severus spoke again. “Is there something I can do to show you that this isn’t a trick?”
This obviously makes the young boy pause, and for the first time since coming to stay with Remus, a little flicker of interest takes over his face. “Do something embarrassing.” He blurts out and Remus fears that Severus’s famous temper was about to make an appearance.
Instead, his tone and posture remain calm and relaxed. “And what would you consider embarrassing, Harry?”
The boy’s face darkens and Remus just instinctively knows that whatever Harry is about to say is going to be something he’s experienced himself and his heart breaks all over again. “Have all your clothes taken away and burned, including your pants, because you asked to go pee while you were on punishment.” The little chin is wobbly, but his voice his calm and Remus hates it. “And then have a collar on and be tied to a post in the backyard for a week. If you can’t hold it, then you’ll be treated like the animal you are.” It was obvious that the boy had no idea he had slipped into a confession of his previous treatment.
Surely, Severus won’t comply with that . Remus winces at the humiliation he knows Harry felt then and feels now at the insinuation that he is nothing more than an animal, his wolf inside howling in pain at remembering his own humiliating memories.
Once again, the other man surprises him. “Well, then why don’t you show me where your backyard is?”
He surprises Harry, too. “Wh-what?” His little hands fly to cover his mouth. “Oh, oh no sir. I wouldn’t do that to you sir. Never ever ever, sir. I was just answering the question, sir.”
Severus nodded solemnly. “However it is something I, too, would find embarrassing. If I did that for you, would that help you believe this isn’t a trick?” Remus had no idea how the other man was staying so calm and stoic while talking to this abused child. It was not a side of the other man he had ever seen before.
Harry shook his head in horror. “Oh, please don’t do that, Sir. I believe you now. Honest.” The shifty, suspicious looks at the toy bucket told a different story, but Remus felt a flicker of encouragement at the twitch the fingers closest to the toys made.
Severus must feel the same encouragement, because for the first time he touches the bucket to hold it out to the very small and frightened five year old. It almost seems like it’s a battle of who is the most stubborn, because the unlikely pair sits there staring at each other motionless and silent, each waiting for the other to move first. It’s only his experience in waiting for the inevitable that keeps him still for the full 10 minute impasse.
Harry, surprisingly enough, is the first to move. He barely edges a hand towards the bucket and then freezes, eyes flicking up to see if he’s being watched. He flinches back when he sees that both men are watching and Remus watches as the child does a double take and tilts his head as he stares back at Remus.
He feels as if he’s being thoroughly assessed and is about to be found wanting. It’s a rather discomfiting feeling and he’s relieved when those haunted green eyes fix on Severus. Only after Severus gives harry a very small, minute smile that the child reaches forward to snatch out the tiny little dinosaur Remus had convinced him to take earlier that morning and he felt like cheering.
“Uncle Moony?” He looks over at Harry, who is looking at him with what can only be his version of a smile. It’s barely there, hardly a twitch in the muscle around the mouth, but he can see it in the eyes - a slight lightness that hadn’t been there previously. He looks over to see Severus looking at him with the same smile Harry has on and he returns both smiles with a crooked little half grin.
“Yes, Harry?” He replies, feeling for the first time since Harry had arrived hopeful that both of them will make it through this intact and happy.
“Is playing for you, too?”
He now sees the bucket in both of Harry’s hands and he’s holding it out in his direction and his half grin turns into a full blown smile and chuckle. “Harry, playing is for anyone who has an imagination.” When the boy’s hidden smile suddenly blooms and flushes the gaunt, pale cheeks with color and life, his heart nearly explodes with joy at the sight.
He looks over at Severus again and mouths thanks to the man, who merely inclines his head and turns his attention back to Harry. “You’re welcome any time, Severus.” When the other man makes to protest, he holds up a hand. “I am quite serious, and I doubt Harry would allow you to stay away too long anyway.”
“Please?” Comes the tiniest little voice from the very timid boy who looks like he’s expecting to be slapped and told no one wants to be around a runty little brat like him.
Which, according to Minerva, is exactly what was being yelled at Harry when she went to check on him a week ago.
And apparently, not even hardened ex-death eaters can resist bright hopeful five year old eyes, because the potions master just sighs and pulls out a triceratops just as Remus is sitting down cross legged and choosing a dinosaur for himself. He is teaching the boy how to play, after all, and that task is much easier whilst on the floor.
They will form a new family for the orphaned boy, one who loves him and will raise him into a brilliant young man who will change the world.
But that is a story for another day.
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End
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