Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. There are also references to canon child abuse as well as canon-typical terrorist actions. Feel free to back out if need be.

Author's Note: My captain caught the crud on faer flight home. So y'all get an extra fic!

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Quidditch League (Season 10); Ministry (Spring Year 1); RAVEN (2023); MC4A (Spring Year 6)
Individual Challenges: One Family (Y); Pie Day; Quaffles (Y); Colors of the Sky (x2); Gryffindor MC; Magical MC (x2); Sandbox (Y); Reader (Y); Cinematic (Y); Gamer (Y); Tiny Terror (x2); Tossed Chum (x3); Shifter MC; Nonhuman MC; Ethnic & Present; Neurodivergent; Rian-Russo Inversion; Disabled (x2); Short Jog; Bucket Listing (Y); Eating Cake (Y); Exchange; Greatest Gift; Green Ribbon; Two Cakes (Y); Crack Addict; Claimed; Feeding; Hotel Home; Lunar Era; Rainbow Connection; Finders; Hold the Mayo
Team (Position): Wigtown Wanderers (Seeker) *Filling in for Captain this round
Round (Prompt): Round 10-04 (Celebratory Event Interrupted by Antagonists) *Captain's Prompt
Ministry Challenges: Misinformation Office [Tier 1: Trio Era]
RAVEN Challenges: Settings [41](Dangerous); Items [146](Waistcoat); Colors [112](Periwinkle)
Other MC4A Challenges: SpB [5A](Blessing); TrB [5A](Beware the Nice Ones); Chim [Sumac]("God Help the Outcasts" – Hunchback of Notre; Turned Left Instead AU; Race Bend); Hunt [Sp Items (Instrument)]
Representation(s): Desi Harry Potter & Remus Lupin; Petunia Evans Dursley/Vernon Dursley; Chim Song Prompt
Primary & Secondary Bonus Challenges: Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; Pear-Shaped; Wabi Sabi; Demo 1 (Found Family; Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice; Lovely Coconuts; Grease Monkey; Muck & Slime; Where Angels Fear; Horrible Love); Demo 2 (Machismo; Tomorrow's Shade; Unicorn; Creature Feature; Hot Stuff)
Tertiary & Generic Bonus Challenges: T3 (Toad); Once (Moses Supposes)
Word Count: 1749 words

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Just Rewards
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The small family stood at the grand entrance of the expensive hotel's banquet hall. The adults were better at masking their awe at the opulence of the venue than the two boys. Their eyes were wide with wonder as they took in the finery that made up the banquet's decor. The banquet room was filled with a dazzling array of fine furnishings, luxurious draperies, and exquisite works of art. Silver chandeliers sparkled overhead, the light reflecting off the polished marble floors. Grunnings had clearly spared no expense for this year's awards banquet.

"This is certainly a sight to behold," Petunia said, her voice filled with admiration. She was wearing a fancy dress in periwinkle blue. It was a nice color for a very nice dress, but the cut made Petunia look even more bony than usual while the color brought out the yellow in the foundation that she wore.

She fussed over her husband's bowtie, even though it was already straight. Vernon indulged her as he looked around the room with pride. He had worked hard for the award he was sure that he would be winning tonight. He had managed to implement multiple cost-saving measures this last year. He had worked for years at the company, and now his work would be recognized.

Beside them, their son Dudley stood, also dressed in his finest clothing for the occasion. His eyes were wide with excitement as they landed on the waiters circulating the receiving room with trays of hors d'oeuvres. He knew that he had a part to play in charming the old ladies present, but he could do that while enjoying himself.

The final member of their group was as different from the three as possible. Where his relatives were pasty white, Harry had skin that was deep tan that had darkened to almost sienna by the amount of sun that he got while tending to Aunt Petunia's prize-winning garden. Unlike Uncle Vernon and Dudley, who were both rotund, Harry was scrawny with thin bands of muscles as the only visible flesh. It was a different kind of boniness than his aunt, mostly because hers was from careful dieting while Harry was grateful whenever he managed to earn a second meal in a given day. It left him with a gauntness that would not have been out of place on a starving orphan in a charity commercial.

Harry was actually surprised that the Dursleys had brought him with them rather than leaving him with Mrs. Figg (who lived a few streets over from them in Little Whinging and usually watched him whenever the Dursleys went out places). They had even gotten him a suit for the occasion. It wasn't as nice as the ones that Uncle Vernon and Dudley were wearing, true, but it was new, and it fit him. Harry kept running his hands over the dark blue fabric of his waistcoat in awe. In all of the eight years that he had lived with them, the Dursleys had never gotten him something so nice. Even his glasses had been pulled out of a donation bin.

"It's almost time," Vernon said, turning to his wife and son. He glared briefly at Harry before dismissing him out of hand. "Let's go in and make the best of this night."

He stepped forward, leading the way into the hall, the other three following close behind. As they entered, the room erupted in applause. Up on the stage, a woman stood up from a grand piano and bowed towards the appreciative crowd. Vernon grumbled under his breath but plastered on a smile by the time they had approached the first cluster of people.

Sticking close together, they circulated through the room. The Dursleys seemed to not notice how most of the people that they talked to ended up making excuses to walk away after a few minutes. Harry did, however. He made a little game of predicting how long a given person might last. The longest was the woman who had wanted to talk about the awards that Aunt Petunia had gotten for her garden. She lasted long enough for Harry to eat six mini tartlets and three prawns before she waved at the ice sculpture of a swan across the room like it was a beloved friend and left.

The caterers had just announced that it was time to be seated for dinner when there were multiple cracks through out the room. In the wake of each crack, there was suddenly a person in dark robes with pointed hoods at the center of the sound. To further hide their identities, they all had silver masquerade masks.

Immediately, they started slashing the air with the sticks they all held like conductor wands. Beams of light shot out with each gesture. Where the lights landed, things would happen. Things would explode or melt or fall into pieces. The ice sculpture of a swan came alive and started chasing people around with flared wings.

The fancy gala descended into complete and utter chaos. People are running from the wizards (for there was no denying that the invaders fit the description of wizards from fantasy books). People were also running from the debris of destroyed décor and the wrath of a very pissed off swan. The room was filled with their screams and the laughter of the dark wizards.

Harry did what any nine-year-old would do in the situation. He made his way to the sides of the room as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Being so small helped him stay out of people's way as much as having learned to instinctively duck whenever something came speeding towards him. The latter had helped him avoid Aunt Petunia's frying pan on more than one occasion.

He had planned to make his way to the doorway that he had seen the waiters coming and going from, but as he was rounding the stage, an arm reached out and grabbed him. Before he could even think of putting up a fight, Harry was pulled into the space beneath the stage. In the dimness, he could barely make out the cases for various musical instruments and one of the caterers—specifically the one who had taken to sticking close by with his tray full of mini tartlets.

"Come with me," the man said. His hazel eyes seem to glow similarly to the way that wolves' did when they caught the light just right. Harry let himself be tugged along through the hollow stage. After all, it was as good an escape plan as any.

They came out in a hallway that smelled and sounded like it was near the laundry for the hotel hosting the award banquet. They took a moment to rest and remember how to breathe.

Harry also took the time to examine the caterer who had saved him. The man looked like he was the same age as Aunt Petunia but that the years had not been as kind to him. His dark blond hair was shot through with flecks of gray. He also had several faint scars on his face that all looked like they were from the claws of an animal—something like a very large dog, if Harry was right.

There was also something vaguely familiar about him. It felt like Harry should recognize him, as if maybe they knew each other and just hadn't seen one another for a very long time. Harry wouldn't have minded that, even if there was no way for it to be true. Any adult who wasn't the Dursleys would be more pleasant company, and Harry was sure to remember them just for that.

"Saints above," the man breathed as he stared at Harry. He lifted his hands like he wanted to cup Harry's face. "You look just like them."

"Just like who?"

"Your parents, of course," he answered as if it really was that simple. Harry just blinked at him. "You do know that, right? Tuna has shown you pictures of them?"

"Aunt Petunia didn't," Harry answered. His tone made it clear that he thought this man, whoever he was, had a few bats in his belfry. The man's eyes flashed with something familiar enough that Harry tensed in preparation of taking the hit that usually followed.

"Come with me," the man ordered again after a moment of inaction. Harry nervously pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"I don't even know who you are."

"My name is Remus Lupin," the man answered without hesitation. "I was friends with your parents before they died. I would have been one of your godparents, but I—well, I have a condition."

"Is it lycanthropy?" Harry asked with a disbelieving huff. It was a ridiculous suggestion, made because it played well on the name that the man gave. But by the way Lupin's eyes widened, Harry might have hit closer than he intended. "No, wait, really? Did you change your name after being infected or something?"

"No," Remus said, sounding like he was surprised that Harry would even ask that question. "This was the name my parents gave me. I was infected later."

"No offense," Harry said, no longer worried about offending the man, "but your parents had to have been psychic or something. They named you Wolf Wolf, and then you end up becoming a werewolf. That's just a bit on the nose, isn't it?"

"You're taking this rather well," Remus commented. "Also, you are definitely your mother's child. Lily had a similar reaction when she found out." He gave Harry a small smile. "I understand if you don't want to, now that you know about my condition, but please come with me."

"You really want me?" Harry bit his bottom lip. "You're not just saying that?"

"Oh, cub," Remus said. He moved quickly to cup Harry's face in his hands, ignoring the way that Harry had jerked away before freezing. "I am not just saying that. I really do want you to come live with me."

Harry threw his arms around the man in a hug that Remus returned just as fiercely. To hide the tears threatening to fall, he pressed his face into Remus' chest. Without saying another word, Remus pressed a kiss to Harry's hair and turned their little huddle to the side. There was a feeling like they were being sucked through a straw, and they were gone.

The crack that followed echoed down the long hallway, but no one in the hotel heard it.