Fic: Misfits for Brighty18
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small_giftsTitle: Misfits
Author/Artist:bigblackdog
Recipient:brighty18
Rating: M
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): * warning for language, complete fluff otherwise *
Word count: 7631
Summary: A retelling of the claymation classic Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys featuring a red-nosed Remus and not-really-a-Slytherin Sirius.
Notes: dear brighty18, thank you for your inspiring prompt! i wrote in as much banter and shenanigans as i am able!
"God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs!" James called out at the top of his lungs, levitating a pile of trimmings that included an obscene amount of mistletoe, a small mountain of tinsel, and a plate of Mrs. Potter's double-ginger gingerbread. Sirius had discovered yesterday that they were not cookies for the faint of heart; he took smaller nibbles now. James rustled through the pile, still singing and humming loudly where he didn't know the words.
Sirius was curled up on his bed, fully aware he was in a tremendous mood and unable to summon the will to care. Since he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express, ultimately bound for Potter Manor, Sirius had been struck by a pervasive melancholy. The same pervasive melancholy Sirius had always felt boarding the train, but this year, without the soul-sucking prospect of returning to Grimmauld.
James' merriment had grown in proportion to Sirius' withdrawal, and thus he was now all but screaming Christmas carols and force-feeding Sirius eggnog.
"Why do you need so much mistletoe? It's just us."
"And mum and dad!" James said undeterred.
"You're only adding to my confusion."
James just hummed noncommittally and carried on searching through the pile of Christmas decorations, finally spotting a small box at the bottom of it all. "Ah ha! Fairy lights! Come on you little buggers!" He opened the box with a tap and angry fairies sped out in every direction, one thwacking James on the nose on the way.
Sirius sniggered. "Don't like you much do they?"
"They have a better memory than I could have anticipated as an eight year old. Anyway, get your arse over here and help me! I need your artistic flair for the tinsel."
Sirius snorted. "I'll oversee from here."
James carried on, perhaps with even more joviality than before, flinging tinsel around the room in an interpretative dance to Good King Wenceslas, making sure to drape a fair amount on Sirius' hair. Sirius responded by shoving tinsel up James’ nose with a well-timed spell from the safety of his perch on the bed, prompting a small scuffle and even more tinsel in various orifices.
James worked, and danced, and coaxed angry fairies, until the room was so rife with fairy lights, tinsel, and mistletoe that one had to duck and zigzag round large swaths of Christmas decorations. James navigated the treacherous holiday terrain with aplomb.
He stood in the middle of the explosion of yuletide, beaming. "This should do it!"
Sirius just shrugged, intending to vanish most of it when James fell asleep tonight.
"Well," James said, "I've earned some cocoa. Want some?"
"No. Thanks."
"I heard yes please, with extra marshmallows! Be right back!"
James ducked underneath a dangerously swaying mistletoe archway and headed purposefully down the hall. He couldn't just stand by while Sirius moped away Christmas. He was his brother now! And this was his first Christmas away from that horrible house. It would be cheery and full of good tidings if James had to stun a thousand ornery fairies!
Thankfully, he didn't think he would have to, because he was calling in the ultimate weapon against Sirius-gloom: Remus Lupin. He'd get Peter too. Peter was excellent at making cocoa, and James anticipated a need for a whole lot of cocoa.
Dearest Moony,
Sirius is in a Funk, so great a funk it threatens to become an unbanishable miasma. The very Spirit of Christmas is threatened. Please come immediately! Only you can save Christmas!
Prongs
Wormy,
Drop everything. There is a Christmas Emergency and the Marauders require your good cheer and cocoa.
Prongs
Prongs,
I'm not sure one of Sirius' moods qualifies as a threat to the Spirit of Christmas. The Spirit of Christmas is more resilient than you might think. My mum will be narked if I take off this year, how bad is it really?
Moony
Moony,
He doesn't even want cocoa.
Prongs
Fine. I'll be there in the morning.
Moony
James was waiting by the fireplace with three cups of cocoa under a warming charm, ready to commence a Very Merry Marauders Meeting.
Peter arrived first, looking grim but determined as he dusted soot off himself. He produced a tiny whisk from his pocket that he swore made frothier cocoa. James clapped him on the shoulder, "Good man, Pete! Knew I could count on you!"
Peter beamed. "Of course Prongs. Couldn't let a Marauder go without cocoa."
Remus came through a moment later. He looked less enthusiastic. "This better be worth it James, my mum just took the fleece out of me. I think it's safe to say she's gotten over the novelty of me having friends and is just annoyed you sods take all my time."
"What would make it worth it?" James asked slyly.
Peter looked between them, smirking a little. "Yea Moony-- what would make it worth it?"
Remus pinked a little. "Shut up. Come on, what's the plan?"
James and Peter burst out laughing. Remus crossed his arms and mostly succeeded at looking dignified. "I regret ever telling you."
James sobered up, "Not really, Moony?"
Remus sighed. "No not really. But come on, what's wrong with Sirius?"
"I cannot begin to answer that question."
They settled on the rug in front of the fire, Peter providing even more cocoa from a flask in his pocket, which he then whisked very seriously. James tried to solicit advice on the possibility of a present for Evans, Peter providing a number of good suggestions from his life with sisters, before Remus suggested they address the task at hand, because he didn't piss off his mum just to help James piss off Evans.
"What would make you feel better at Christmas? If you were away from your family."
"You'd think this would be easier, considering how shit they are." Peter said.
"To be honest, I didn't really expect this," James said. "I thought he’d be happy to be here."
"He is happy to be here. It’s just more complicated than that." Remus said.
"Ok, yea,” James said, seeming a little bolstered.
All three boys sighed, taking sips of cocoa.
"We just need to rally! More Christmas fun, I say. We should make gingerbread houses. No! A gingerbread house contest!"
"I don't know, Prongs,” Remus said.
"Yea! A wizard's gingerbread house contest!" Peter tacked on.
"Yes!" James jumped up. "Pete, you'll have to be in charge of the gingerbread baking effort. Remus, you drag him out of bed. I think I've got another idea for something that will help, pending further research."
James bounded out of the room, faith in the spirit of Christmas fully restored by their brief conference. Peter jumped up as well, rushing downstairs to the Potters’ kitchen, no doubt to make a spectacular mess of gingerbread baking. Remus wandered down the hall and knocked softly on the door to Sirius' room.
"Go away! I don't want any bloody eggnog!"
Remus poked his head into the room; Sirius was lying curled up on his side beneath a gigantic quilt, staring out of the window with his back turned to the overwrought decorations. Red and green flashing lights above his bed reflected on his dark hair.
"No nog, sorry."
Sirius scrambled up on the bed. "Remus!"
"Can I come in?"
"Yea! Of course! When did you get here?"
"Just now. James' called in reinforcements for the visitations of the ghosts of Christmas past."
"Not you too Moony."
Remus smiled and sat down on the bed next to Sirius. "Not me too, what?"
"James won't let up about all this Christmas shite. Can't a bloke hate a holiday in peace?"
"You can certainly hate it, but I think the impending gingerbread house contest will impede doing so in peace."
Sirius groaned. "Please-- you've got to get him to let up."
"Funny, he said the same about you. Match made in heaven."
Sirius sniffed. "Hardly. The man has no taste! Look at all this tinsel! It's blinding me! I'm serious! I've got a headache from all the sparkly shite in here!"
Remus smiled. If Sirius was crafting melodramatic complaints, he must be feeling a little better. "Come on then, let's get out of here."
Remus stood and tugged on Sirius' arm, but he hunkered down. "Mooooooony, noooooooo! I don't wanna make gingerbread houses! I hate gingerbread! I've sworn off gingerbread!"
"Liar! I can smell double ginger gingerbread all over you!"
"Noooooo! You can't make me love sugar plum shingles!"
With an almighty tug, Remus pulled Sirius up from the bed and tumbling into himself. Sirius steadied himself with his hands on Remus' shoulders, laughing hard enough to warrant it.
"Thanks for coming Moony." He said, and to Remus' surprise, hugged him briefly around the shoulders.
"Sure, Pads."
Leaving Peter and James alone with the gingerbread dough turned out to be a grave mistake. The gingerbread house contest started out normal enough, with James delighting in his cookie cottage of chaos, and Sirius complaining about icing sugar in his hair, until the dough men woke up and, displeased with the shoddy construction and their lack of icing-piped pants, mounted a surprisingly well coordinated attack on the boys. Sirius hid underneath the table and laughed himself silly while two gingerbread men shoved sugar plums into Peter's ears.
Remus' hair was caked with royal icing, and James was sporting a small bruise from the blunt end of a candy cane brandished as a sword. Peter swore his hearing was permanently compromised, and Sirius looked marginally brighter.
James suggested celebrating their victory in battle with more cocoa. Sirius protested, but he was eventually worn down.
James raised his mug. "To another impressive Marauder victory! May our enemies bake in the eternal ovens of hell!"
"Here, here!"
"I'm horrified by what I just witnessed, and concerned I'll never be able to enjoy gingerbread again. Thanks lads." Remus raised his cup in mock salute, and took a sip.
"What?" Peter yelled, digging a finger into his ear.
"Drink up Sirius, it’s bad luck to forego a victory toast!" James said.
"Bad manners too."
"Yes, clearly we're a group that stands by manners," Sirius scoffed, but he took a sip anyway. The first sip seemed to fortify him further, and James relaxed a little.
Two minutes later, Sirius had sucked down his cocoa with surprising speed and was smacking his lips guilelessly.
Remus looked between Peter and James. "What did you do to the cocoa?"
"Nothing! Just Wormy's tiny whisk! Miracle, that thing!"
Peter turned on James too. "I didn't use my tiny whisk in this batch. The gingerbread men threw it into their pyre."
Sirius was staring intently at the crumbling remains of the last gingerbread house, oblivious to their conversation.
"Is this the part of the plan that required further research?" Remus asked drily.
"Alright fine. Yes. I found a potion called Holiday Jubilee in my mum's Witch Weekly."
"And brewed it? In twenty minutes?"
"Well I took a few shortcuts, pretty overwrought recipe if you ask me."
Remus rolled his eyes. Peter was less blasé. "James! You can't feed him that shit! You arseholes have no sense of self-preservation!"
"It probably won't poison him," Remus said, watching Sirius squint at the headless gingerbread man in the front door of the smashed house. "What's it supposed to do?"
"Make you feel the spirit of the season!" James said, beaming. "Brilliant, right?"
"Well let's test it then," Remus said. He turned to Sirius, who was still locked in a staring contest with the headless ginger man. "How do you feel?"
Sirius only stared.
Remus shook him a little, "Hey Sirius, how do you feel?"
Sirius turned to him, eyes widening as they reached Remus' face. "I don't know. Sort of let down... And full."
"Well, there's the spirit of the season for you, Prongs."
In the face of the revelation that the spirit of the season was in fact a dissatisfying partial coma, the Marauders decided to watch a movie on the telly. Peter flipped through the channels, James arguing passionately for the commercial channel so he could learn more about muggle things in order to impress Lily. Remus argued that owning a tv was enough, and please to not subject them to that.
Sirius stared at the tv, blinking only occasionally and slumping toward Remus.
"Wait! Go back Pete!" Remus lunged for the remote to turn the channel back one. "Have you guys seen this?" Remus asked, pointing the remote at the scene, which was cycling through the credits in front of paper cutouts of white tipped mountains and pudgy clay birds.
James was immediately interested, leaning forward. "Why's the snow look weird?"
"It's all made of clay and puppets," Remus said.
"Puppets!" James cried.
The credits song meandered on, until the bright red font of the title displayed on the screen: Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys.
James was hopping up and down in his seat, "Who's Rudolph?! Who's Rudolph, Moony?!"
"It's a muggle Christmas story. Just watch and you'll see."
James settled into the couch, clutching his cocoa and looking supremely pleased. Peter looked more hesitant, perhaps questioning why a snowman needed a pocket watch. Sirius was dead asleep but still breathing (Remus checked). Remus hid the remote in the cushions in preparation for the inevitable annoyance when Rudolph's nose started up a shrill piercing note and threw an arm around Sirius' shoulders, ignoring Peter's knowing look.
***
Sirius was bathed in an eerie green light. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, taking in the smooth material of the couch he was laying on-- was that clay? Across from the couch was a paper cutout of cold fire grate, and above that, a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, his frame covered in thin green vines and illuminated by underwater ripples of green light.
Peter was stood in the center of the room, wearing a vest stretched taut over his belly with a gold pocket watch and bolo tie, and a brimmed hat with a colorful feather. His voice was warm and soothing.
Our story starts in the Slytherin Common room. Funny place to start a story about Christmas, I know. But this is a story about misfits, two misfits, in fact, who saved Hogwarts. Ah well, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s see what poor Sirius is up to, shall we?
Near Sirius’ couch, Narcissa was holding court with Avery and Nott. Sirius scowled and stared at the flat empty grate, refusing to acknowledge them for as long as possible.
"Slughorn told us at the meeting last night he'd be giving away a bottle of Felix Felicis today," Narcissa said, voice tipped just this side of carrying.
"Giving away! Surely not!" Avery said, but Narcissa mostly ignored him and continued. "What would you use it for?" She asked, eyes glinting.
"Not likely to tell you, now am I?"
"Wouldn't matter even if you did, you'd be lucky," Nott piped up.
"That's not even how it works!"
"As if anyone cares how it works- what would you use it for?"
Avery whispered something behind his hand to Nott and they both sniggered.
"Oh I suppose you think I don’t know what you're whispering about? There isn't enough luck in the world to win you a girl."
"Wouldn't have to win her."
"Oh how crude!" Narcissa exclaimed theatrically, but there wasn’t much real protest behind it.
"I'd do something fun," Sirius blurted out.
"A bird would be fun, you nancy," Nott sneered.
Sirius clenched his fits on top of his thighs, aching to slug Nott right in the nose. Narcissa tipped her head over to Sirius, body still and poised to strike. "What would you do, Sirius dear?"
"Set off a load of dungbombs in your beds and waltz by Filch's office, not getting caught."
Narcissa laughed, "Oh Sirius, darling. You're just so simple!" She laughed again, and waved her hand elegantly at the common room, "Anyone else here would send in their ministry job application, deliver a clever answer in front of Slughorn. And you," She giggled again, "Your greatest ambition is to throw about dungbombs!"
Avery and Nott started laughing, the sound carrying, until students at other couches and tables abandoned their studies and joined in. Regulus was there, across the room, stone-faced and arms crossed, just watching.
"You're absolutely the worst Slytherin; I can't imagine how you'll live up to the Black name."
Sirius stood up abruptly, fists shaking, blood pounding in his arms and ears. "I don't want to be a sodding Slytherin! I want to be a Gryffindor!"
At that the common room only laughed harder. Sirius kicked at a leg of the couch before turning and fleeing the common room, laughter still ringing in his ears.
He stalked angrily through the castle, not bothering to note what turns he took or staircases he followed, ending up in abandoned corridor. The clay blocks of stone were covered in a thick layer of confetti dust.
Sirius curled up in an arched niche that likely once housed a suit of armor, but was now neglected and empty. Sirius sniffled, it was just so unfair he kept thinking. He didn’t feel like he wanted all that much; just to not feel so weird all the time, to not have to worry all the time about the reaction if he was just himself.
"Hey are you alright?"
Sirius started, feeling angry someone had caught him out in tears. If Nott ever found out, he'd never let up with the nancy comments. Sirius swiped at his tears, fully prepared to growl out a reply, when he looked up and saw a lanky boy, with a soft smile and curls.
"I guess," Sirius shrugged.
The boy moved to sit in the abandoned armor niche. "Budge up," he said.
Sirius scooted over, stunned into obedience by the boy's sweet face. They settled next to one another in silence, legs tucked up. Sirius tried to sneak glances at the boy, and got caught out more often than not.
"So, do you come here often?" the boy asked.
Sirius snorted. "Not here specifically. You?"
"Fairly, yea. This is my niche, you know," He said. "I'm Remus, by the way."
"Sirius."
"Oh, I know."
Sirius deflated. Of course Remus had heard about his awful family, but instead of sneering at Sirius, either because he was too Slytherin, or not Slytherin enough, Remus pulled a bar of chocolate out of his pocket, and broke off a piece for Sirius.
"So why're you here?"
Sirius shrugged. "Why're you here?"
"Werewolf nose." Remus pointed to his nose, which Sirius could see was blushing bright red and starting to glow. Sirius stared in confusion as Remus' red nose emitted a piercing, shrill sound.
"But werewolves don't have red noses!"
Remus just shrugged. "So come on, now you've got to tell me why you're here."
Sirius exhaled heavily. "Mate, I don't even know where to start. I'm all kinds of fucked up."
Remus laughed and handed over the rest of the chocolate bar. "You'll need that then."
Small tendrils of green vine wove themselves over the archway as they shared the chocolate bar. When Remus’ nose wasn’t glowing red, Sirius could see a smattering of freckles over his skin. Remus was adorable; it was just so unfair, Sirius thought again.
"Would you wish away all the ways you don't fit?" Remus asked.
"I've never really thought about it."
“Sometimes I think I wouldn’t be myself without this,” Remus said, waving at his nose, "But sometimes I think, maybe I'd be more myself without this shit to deal with all the time. I mean, no matter what you're always yourself. It's not like if I didn't have this stupid nose I'd wish for it for some character building. Maybe I'd just be happier."
Sirius nodded slowly. "It's different for me. I probably would be happier if I fit in with them. But what’s the point--being happy-- if you make everyone else miserable?"
"You just need better people to fit in with," Remus said, getting up from the niche and offering a hand to Sirius.
Sirius took it and stood up too. "Maybe that's all you need, too."
"Yea. Maybe." Remus looked down the corridor. "Sometimes I really hate it here."
"Then let's just say fuck it. We don't have to stay at Hogwarts."
“Yea but, what’s the alternative?”
“I don’t care. Anything has to be better than hiding all the time.”
“Sometimes I wonder if the hiding is the worst part.”
"Let’s fucking find out," Sirius said as they set off down the corridor.
Peter appeared at the end of the corridor, looking serene.
Remus and Sirius had found each other, but getting out of Hogwarts would prove difficult and treacherous. They had only just ventured out from the safety of the niche, when the piercing eyes of Mrs. Norris lit upon them. They could hear the deep wheezing of the Abominable Filch just around the corner.
Sirius and Remus sprinted down corridors and fairly threw themselves down stairs, but every corner they turned, it seemed the shuffling Abominable Filch was right behind them.
Remus slowed, clutching a stitch in his side and panting. "It's because of my werewolf nose!"
"What?" Sirius asked. "That doesn't make any sense."
Remus just shrugged, rubbing at his ribs and grimacing. "I don't make the rules."
A rumbling wheeze rent the air. Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand and tugged him along the corridor, despite his protests.
"He'll always find my stupid nose!"
"Fuck," Sirius muttered, standing in the middle of the corridor and turning in every direction, he could have sworn there was a passageway nearby, but he couldn't think!
The wheezing got closer, and the Abominable Filch ambled around the corner, letting out an almighty howl as he set eyes on Sirius and Remus. "I've got you now!"
The Abominable Filch tottered closer, he was wearing a large shaggy coat and waving his arms above his head menacingly. "Arrrrgg!"
Suddenly, a gigantic tapestry of Circe and the pigs tumbled down off the wall, burying the Abominable Filch, who yelled and waved angrily beneath the heavy fabric, unable to fumble his way out.
A hand shot out of thin air and shoved Sirius and Remus into a blank stretch of wall, which gave way and everyone tumbled into a dusty, concealed cupboard. The hand then whisked away an invisibility cloak with a stylish flourish to reveal a beaming boy with a mess of dark hair.
"James Potter, Prankster Extraordinaire and Manager of Much Mischief, at your service!"
***
Remus gazed down at Sirius, who was snuggled up close and grumbling and frowning in his sleep. Rudolph and Hermy had just met Yukon Cornelius and escaped the Abominable Snowman, and James was completely entranced. Peter was keeping them well supplied with cocoa. While Remus wouldn’t wish another potion-induced nap on Sirius, he also wasn’t too upset with the turn of events.
***
In the dark of the cupboard, James hadn't stopped moving. He produced several puffskeins from his cloak pockets, tapping each with his wand to enlarge them, chattering all the while about the opportunities for mischief that had brought him to this corridor. Sirius introduced Remus and himself, explaining that they were planning to leave Hogwarts and strike out on their own. When James heard that, he offered them passage on his recently enlarged puffskein drawn sleigh.
“You’ve already helped us tons,” Remus said, a little wary. “We wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Nonsense!” James said, “Climb on! I insist!”
Sirius and Remus stumbled over buckets and mop handles in the now crowded cupboard and clambered onto the sleigh carriage with James. "Hold on tight!" James cried out, sending gusts of wind from his wand at the puffskeins and grinning a little maniacally.
The puffskein sleigh burst forth from the wall concealing the cupboard, startling a now freed Abominable Filch. The Abominable flailed but failed to snatch the sleigh, which was flying swiftly along the corridors of Hogwarts. James’ joviality was contagious, and Sirius and Remus laughed with relief, watching the portraits speed by.
James whooped and hollered, sending stronger and stronger gusts of wind at the puffskeins as they reached the Great Hall, sending the sleigh careening toward the massive front doors. Sirius and Remus shared a look, grinning as the sleigh barreled through the doors.
James took the puffskein sleigh for a victory lap around the Quidditch pitch before the puffskeins began to revolt, bucking free from their tethers. The sleigh bounced down on the pitch, the freed puffskeins floating away placidly in every direction.
James sighed, watching his sleigh team abandon him, before turning abruptly to Remus and Sirius and letting out a great whoop. "That was awesome!"
From the edge of the pitch, with a bird perched on his hat, Peter looked on. Our young group of mischief makers and misfits had escaped the Abominable Filch, but they would soon learn life wasn't so easy outside of Hogwarts.
The wind picked up suddenly and paper flakes of snow starting driving sideways. They had to holler over the howling gusts of winds, trudging through sudden drifts of knee-high snow. They worked to keep their spirits up with warming charms and raw-cheeked smiles, but soon began to feel discouraged. Without a dry place to weather the storm, their freedom from Hogwarts would be short lived. Onward through the blizzard they trudged, their dreams of fully expressed individuality spurring them further.
In the distance, a small hut appeared, pinpricks of warm light barely visible through the storm. James called out over the wind, "Cottage ho!" And Remus reached out briefly to clasp Sirius' hand. The warmth of the gesture carried Sirius' frozen limbs the last distance to the cottage. They pounded on the door, praying for a warm cup of tea and shelter.
The door was cracked open and a girl with a thick braid of red yarn hair peeked out. Remus' nose started glowing, emitting the same shrill beeping from before. "Please, let us in!" Sirius said.
The girl pulled open the heavy door and ushered them inside. In addition to her braids of yarn hair, she was wearing checkered overalls and had red painted freckles on her cheeks, beneath bright green eyes. The cottage was cozy, filled with bunk beds and hammocks of all sizes and a roaring fire in a gigantic grate.
"Thanks," Remus said. "We were running away from Hogwarts when this storm started up."
"Running away from Hogwarts?" The girl asked. "But! You privileged bastards! Hogwarts is only the most magical place in the world!"
"We would be loving to be at Hogwarts, sirs," said a small elf, ears bedecked in mismatched socks.
"What are you all doing here, then?" Sirius asked.
"We is not fitting in sirs," said the elf, shaking his head sadly, fat tears forming in his huge round eyes.
"But that's terrible!" James said.
The girl shook her head. "But it's true. How would you like to be a ginger muggleborn?"
"Or a free elf!"
A sallow boy with a hooked nose poked his head out of a cupboard, "Or a greasy haired git?"
Sirius shoved the boy's greasy head back in the cupboard and snapped the door shut.
"We're all misfits!" cried the girl.
"All we is wanting is to be at Hogwarts."
James was outraged. "Surely there must be something we can do!"
The girl shook her head fiercely, yarn braids swinging around her shoulders. "We didn't ask for your help!"
Just then, the door banged open, and silhouetted against the swirling storm was the figure of a gigantic man. He glanced over at Sirius, Remus and James briefly, making his way over to the fire and collapsing onto a large sagging couch there. He took off his large patched coat and made himself comfortable before addressing them.
"Welcome to the Cottage o' Misfits," He said, eyes crinkling pleasantly. "'Fraid there's no more beds, you'll have kip out on the rug in front of the fire. Jus' fer tonight, mind. I got summat ter talk to you about."
The giant man, King Hagrid, supplied them with huge tankards of steaming butterbeer and headless gingerbread men the size of toddlers. Satisfied with his hospitality, King Hagrid settled in to his knitting (a tea cozy that could comfortably blanket all of Wales), and told them about the injustices at Hogwarts: the board of governors who upheld the baffling tradition of allowing a questionably sentient hat to segregate children, the professor whose death forced a completely negligent history curriculum, an interfering Ministry that installed puppet dictatorships and endorsed torture. It was bleak, but Hagrid asked them to have faith in the Headmaster, Dumbledore, whose hands Hagrid insisted were tied by absolutely necessary secrets. If only the headmaster knew about the Cottage of the Misfits, he would find a place for them all at Hogwarts.
"You'll help us, won't you?" Dobby, the free elf, pleaded.
The ginger muggleborn, Lily, snorted, "As if they can do anything but bully and show off."
"Of course we will!" James promised fervently. "Help, that is. Not bully and show off, I'm way past that."
Peter, peeking through a window into the warmth of the cabin, bolo tie flapping in the gale force winds yelled into the storm: Tired from their blizzard sojourn and consuming a small mountain of sugar, our heroes laid out by the fire to rest. But one of our intrepid journeymen lay awake well into the night.
Remus had gotten up from the warm space between Sirius and James to sit next to a drafty window looking out on the darkly swaying Forbidden Forest. Remus knew his nose would only endanger their mission on behalf of the misfits, but he simply could not bring himself to do anything about it but internally bludgeon himself through the night.
In the morning, our three heroes set out with the undying gratitude of Dobby the house elf and the dismissive derision of Lily the ginger muggleborn to warm their hearts, King Hagrid's imperative ringing in their ears.
Remus led them round to a hidden passageway near the Black Lake, the reprieve from the driving snow was fortifying, even as they feared encountering the Abominable Filch. The passageway was long and winding and caked with clingy bits of dust, but they endured. It ended behind a two faced painting that required a bit of gossip before allowing passage. Sirius told the painting Peter had lied about losing his virginity first because he thought James would feel bad, and they were granted entry.
They peeked their heads out into an abandoned corridor that Sirius recognized as on the seventh floor, from a portrait of one of his despised great uncles. They were just dusting the grime off their shoulders when they heard the telltale wheeze and shuffle of the Abominable Filch, and inevitably, Remus' werewolf nose started to glow red and emit an inexplicable piercing beep.
"Go!" He shouted, pushing Sirius and James down the corridor. "I'll draw him away with the light from my nose!"
Sirius clutched at Remus' hand, "No! Don’t leave!"
Remus smiled wide, giving Sirius one last shove. "I have a plan-- GO!"
James tugged Sirius away as Remus sprinted down the corridor, nose shrill and glowing. "Come on! We've got to get to Dumbledore!"
With reluctance, Sirius allowed James to tug him down the hallway. They stayed in the shadows, sneaking behind statues and ducking into hidden passageways whenever they could. They were so absorbed with not getting caught, they hardly noticed the vines creeping across the old stone walls of Hogwarts. They reached the second floor and saw the stone gargoyles that guarded the headmaster's office.
"What d’you reckon the password is?" James said.
"Hell if I know."
Peter trudged around the corner, his vest was soaking wet and his brimmed hat still carried several inches of snow threatening to topple. He looked harried and fed up.
"You arseholes left me in the snow!"
"You're the narrator! We thought you could pop up anywhere!"
"Yea, I didn't know you were trailing around after us!"
"Well I was!" Peter said in a huff, snow plopping down onto his shoulder.
"I'm sorry buddy, glad you're here now," James said, swiping the snow off his shoulder. "Hey I don't suppose you know anything about this password business?"
Peter straightened his vest and bolo tie, checked and retucked his pocket watch and drew himself up.
The corridor was blessedly empty, but unfortunately, so were our heroes’ heads. Brawn and daring had only brought them so far, and without their more clever companions, they were left scratching their arses.
"Peter! Come on!"
"Pete I know you know! You hear everything round the castle!"
Peter brightened a little. "I do hear everything! Oh alright! It's sweets, it's always a sweet."
James and Sirius quickly ran through every sweet they'd ever eaten, which was a sizeable repertoire. Fizzing Whizzbees! Bertie Botts! Chocolate frogs! But none of the usual sweets were working. As they struggled with the password, the hallways were being dangerously decked with boughs of mistletoe, a faint humming filling the air as the thin vines concealed the ceiling and covered windows.
Sirius grabbed James' arm, pointing in horror. "James! Look! What the fuck is that?"
James faced changed in an instant to one of grim recognition. "Rabid Sentient Mistletoe."
As the vines wove closer to where they were standing, Sirius could make out words to the high pitched humming sound.
deck every hall,
for all must fall this season
kissing kissing, without reason
fail to kiss and you will miss
your freedom
"Merlin’s fucking figgy pudding. That's messed up."
At Sirius' words, the Gargoyles jumped to the side of a rapidly forming stone archway to reveal a tightly winding spiral staircase.
"Figgy pudding! That's it! Come on-- Dumbledore will know what to do!"
They barreled up the stairs, Peter following more sedately. As the staircase spiraled upward, the high pitched singing of the mistletoe was cut off. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, hands clasped as if waiting for them.
"Welcome," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "I understand you've been looking for me."
James spoke up first. "Yes sir."
"Please, sit down." As Dumbledore said it, squashy purple armchairs appeared in front of his desk.
"You see sir, it's about the Cottage of the Misfits."
Dumbledore stroked his beard, eyes twinkling as he listened to James describe the plight of the misfits, how desperately they longed to be at Hogwarts.
"Can't you do anything for them?" James asked.
"My boy, I would dearly love to, but I'm afraid Hogwarts will have to close, the very existence of the school is threatened right now by a Rabid Sentient Mistletoe infestation, the likes of which Professor Sprout assures me, is fantastically rare. Hogwarts will always be home to those who need it, but no one needs their consent violated in the name of misguided holiday spirit. I'm afraid Hogwarts is no longer safe."
Sirius slumped in his seat. Dreams of running away with Remus no longer seemed fun and free, instead, they were weighed down with the realization that hundreds of misfits would be turned away, left on the fringes of society. Hogwarts wasn't perfect, but it was better than freezing to death in a blizzard.
James wasn't ready to give up. "Sir, there must be something we can do."
"Professor Sprout assures me there is only one, exceedingly rare solution: True Love's Kiss."
Professor Dumbledore paused and refolded his hands on the desk. "Sadly, isolating the staff here in the middle of the highlands hasn't led to much romance among them. And while young love can be so pure, it's also completely and irrevocably terrible. I'm afraid we cannot ask the students to risk such a thing. You see, if the kiss is not True Love, the Rabid Sentient Mistletoe will bind the kissers for all of eternity. I'm quite at a loss."
"But Sir! That's not a problem! I love Lily Evans! Truly!"
Sirius clapped a hand on James' shoulder and said quietly to him, "I'm sure Lily will come around mate, but time is of the essence."
"No, Lily won't work," Peter said slowly. "But there's Remus." He was looking steadily at Sirius as he spoke.
Sirius startled-- "But it's the same problem! He doesn't love me back!"
"Don't be thick," James and Peter said simultaneously.
"He's out there right now saving your arse from the Abominable Filch," Peter said.
"Saving all of us," Sirius protested.
"No, Sirius. This will work."
Dumbledore was leaning forward slightly in his seat, twinkle back in his eye. "I must caution you, the consequences of anything less than True Love's Kiss won't be pleasant."
"This will work," James said again.
James' confidence was about the only thing their party had in their favor. Never had the world seen such an infestation of Rabid Sentient Mistletoe, and Remus was out there somewhere in the midst of it with the Abominable Filch. The outlook was bleak.
They didn't have any time to contemplate the difficulty of their position. They rushed back out into the corridor, where the mistletoe had already completely covered the windows, blotting out the bright snow. There was no sign the outside world existed, so thick was the mistletoe upon the windows, and creeping still. James and Sirius stole down the hallways, not wanting to draw the mistletoe's attention.
The plan was to retrace their footsteps back to the seventh floor corridor where they had last left Remus, assuming the Abominable hadn't captured him and forced him into a lifetime of trophy polishing. But as they neared the end of a narrow corridor, the mistletoe wove its way over the door, sealing the exit and forcing them to turn back. They doubled back, counting on the third floor's fickle staircases to give them a lucky break, but found that even the staircases had been so covered with mistletoe they could no longer pivot.
Every entrance to the upper floors they tried was blocked by increasingly aggressive mistletoe vines, their song growing in pitch until both James and Sirius had to cover their ears and shout over the noise. The mistletoe was pushing them toward the Great Hall.
"I've got it!" James said. "We'll leave through the Great Hall and go over to the broom shed! We'll fly to the seventh floor corridor!"
"Brilliant!" Sirius shouted. "Let's go! My ears are bleeding!"
The Great Hall however, had become an evacuation center; every student in the castle had been pushed to the hall and were now running around in a panic underneath the great domed ceiling.
Sirius clutched James arm, "Do you think Moony got trapped up there?"
"It'll be--"
"Sirius! James!" Remus was waving and shouting at them from across the Hall, hoisted up on the shoulders of the Abominable Filch.
James and Sirius pushed and elbowed their way through the crowd, trying to get to him. Sirius reached him first, moved to laughter by the relief that Remus was alive and well, not to mention getting a piggyback from the Abominable Filch.
"What the hell, Remus?!"
"Yea mate, thought we'd lost you!"
Remus cracked a shit eating grin and tapped the Abominable to let him down from his shoulders. Sirius was immediately upon him, hugging him.
"What even happened?" James said.
Remus shrugged one shoulder. "The Abominable’s a misfit, same as everybody else. He just wants to be listened to and appreciated."
James' eyes widened and he nodded along, absorbing Remus' wisdom, but Sirius wasn't convinced.
"What'd you really do?"
"I helped him trash Peeves' favorite hideout."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, but Remus only shrugged one shoulder. "Same rules don't apply to the undead."
"If you say so."
However joyful their reunion, it was marred somewhat by the continued creeping of the mad mistletoe. Several students on the fringes of the hall gave a shout as they were seized by mistletoe and bound from head to toe. Their outcry rippled through the hall as students pushed into the center, creating a heaving mosh pit.
The mistletoe was growing faster now, as if emboldened by the panic, and had stretched to cover the entirety of the Great Hall's massive ceiling, blocking out the light. Students panicked even more as they were thrown into darkness and eternal mistletoe bondage.
"Sirius! You've got to do it now! Before anyone is forced into nonconsensual snogging with Snape! Only you can save--" But James' words were cut off suddenly by a vine of mistletoe around his mouth.
Sirius was free from vines, but no less paralyzed. He turned to Remus, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, unable to tell him the depth of his feelings. The vines suddenly started creeping up his neck, he had to say something! He tried again, but couldn’t speak. He panicked, trying to shout, but the vines wound their way around his mouth.
**
Sirius woke with a gasp.
It was dark and quiet in the house, the telly turned down low. The flickering glow illuminated Remus, who Sirius had slumped on top of and wedged into the corner of the couch.
Sirius sat up and scooted away quickly, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to recover from the vivid memories of his strange dream. "W'time is it?" he mumbled.
"Just gone midnight. James and Peter went up to bed hours ago. James said he was tired, but I'm not convinced he still doesn't think Father Christmas won't come unless you're sleeping."
"Sorry. You could've woken me up."
"It's alright." Remus said quietly.
Remus turned off the telly, but didn't make to get up from the couch. With the television off, only the lights of the Christmas tree illuminated his face.
"I feel weird." Sirius said, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm not surprised. James dosed you with a half-brewed potion."
"Git. But I don't feel potion-y weird."
"How do you feel then?" Remus asked, reaching out to tuck Sirius back under his arm. Sirius was grateful Remus had initiated the contact; he wanted to touch Remus all the time but never knew if he was pushing the boundaries of brotherhood.
"I had a weird dream."
"Yea?"
"Yea. You had a red nose. And it made this horrible noise when it lit up."
"You don't say?"
"Yea! And James had this sleigh of puffskeins and Pete was a snowman."
Remus smiled down at Sirius indulgently. "Sounds very strange."
"Yea... Yea, but. It's not just the dream. Making me feel weird, I mean."
Remus squeezed Sirius' shoulders. "Go on then, tell me about your ghosts of Christmas past."
"That's just it though! I don't know! Don't get me wrong, Christmas with the Blacks was revolting. But-- That's not really what's on my mind."
Sirius looked across Remus' chest to the Christmas tree the Potters always decorated together. They waited until James got home from Hogwarts and hung up the ornaments by hand, ornaments they had cobbled together from acorn crafts and colorful parchment bits with glitter and vacations to Cornwall. They had made ornaments for Sirius this year, pictures of him and James bordered with puffballs, and sparkly parchment snowflakes, and a never-melt icicle in the shape of a dog, and a bit of cross-stitching with his name.
"It's just all so lovely!" Sirius huffed. "They're so lovely and... and I'm not. And I just feel so fucking sick that I can't pull it together to be lovely with them."
"It feels like you can't be normal."
"Yea! And like, I guess I thought I could be normal if I could just get away from them. But now I'm here and I still can't do it."
"Everywhere you go you're stuck with yourself."
"Fuck. Yea. That's it. That's it exactly." Sirius tilted his head up to look at Remus. "Do you feel like that?"
"Yea. A lot of the time."
Sirius wound his arms around Remus and squeezed. Remus moved a hand from Sirius' back up to his neck. They had never touched quite like this before.
"But I don't feel like that as much when I'm with you." Remus said.
"Me too."
"Really?"
"Really. It's like all the broken bits are ok. Like you think they're ok."
"They are ok. You're alright."
Sirius felt like he might cry, so instead of telling Remus with a voice that might crack how much those words meant to him, he pressed a small kiss to the soft skin of Remus' neck. Remus inhaled sharply, and slid down the arm of the couch, to rest his face even with Sirius'. They looked at one another for long moments.
Remus pressed tentatively closer, barely touching his lips to Sirius’. He pulled back to assess how it had gone over, but Sirius had already rushed forward to kiss Remus again.
Everything was hushed and twinkling as they surged into long kisses and then receded again to pant into each others' mouths. "You're so wonderful," Sirius mumbled against Remus' lips. "I'm really glad you came."
"Mm, I'm really glad I came too." Remus threaded his hands into Sirius' hair. "I really like your hair all grown out. I've wanted to tell you that for ages."
"I like your lips."
"You just like snogging."
"No! No really, I've always liked them. And the way you smile. And you looked really cute in my dream with a red nose."
Remus shook his head. "So do you think you'll always hate Christmas?"
"I think I can promise I'll never descend into James' level of festive insanity."
"But how will you commemorate the birth of our capitalist god, Santa?"
Sirius ducked his head a little. "Well, it'll be our anniversary. So... snogging seems appropriate."
Remus smiled wide and held Sirius closer. "Are you sure that's not too cheery for you?"
"Shut up."
Author/Artist:
bigblackdogRecipient:
brighty18Rating: M
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): * warning for language, complete fluff otherwise *
Word count: 7631
Summary: A retelling of the claymation classic Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys featuring a red-nosed Remus and not-really-a-Slytherin Sirius.
Notes: dear brighty18, thank you for your inspiring prompt! i wrote in as much banter and shenanigans as i am able!
"God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs!" James called out at the top of his lungs, levitating a pile of trimmings that included an obscene amount of mistletoe, a small mountain of tinsel, and a plate of Mrs. Potter's double-ginger gingerbread. Sirius had discovered yesterday that they were not cookies for the faint of heart; he took smaller nibbles now. James rustled through the pile, still singing and humming loudly where he didn't know the words.
Sirius was curled up on his bed, fully aware he was in a tremendous mood and unable to summon the will to care. Since he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express, ultimately bound for Potter Manor, Sirius had been struck by a pervasive melancholy. The same pervasive melancholy Sirius had always felt boarding the train, but this year, without the soul-sucking prospect of returning to Grimmauld.
James' merriment had grown in proportion to Sirius' withdrawal, and thus he was now all but screaming Christmas carols and force-feeding Sirius eggnog.
"Why do you need so much mistletoe? It's just us."
"And mum and dad!" James said undeterred.
"You're only adding to my confusion."
James just hummed noncommittally and carried on searching through the pile of Christmas decorations, finally spotting a small box at the bottom of it all. "Ah ha! Fairy lights! Come on you little buggers!" He opened the box with a tap and angry fairies sped out in every direction, one thwacking James on the nose on the way.
Sirius sniggered. "Don't like you much do they?"
"They have a better memory than I could have anticipated as an eight year old. Anyway, get your arse over here and help me! I need your artistic flair for the tinsel."
Sirius snorted. "I'll oversee from here."
James carried on, perhaps with even more joviality than before, flinging tinsel around the room in an interpretative dance to Good King Wenceslas, making sure to drape a fair amount on Sirius' hair. Sirius responded by shoving tinsel up James’ nose with a well-timed spell from the safety of his perch on the bed, prompting a small scuffle and even more tinsel in various orifices.
James worked, and danced, and coaxed angry fairies, until the room was so rife with fairy lights, tinsel, and mistletoe that one had to duck and zigzag round large swaths of Christmas decorations. James navigated the treacherous holiday terrain with aplomb.
He stood in the middle of the explosion of yuletide, beaming. "This should do it!"
Sirius just shrugged, intending to vanish most of it when James fell asleep tonight.
"Well," James said, "I've earned some cocoa. Want some?"
"No. Thanks."
"I heard yes please, with extra marshmallows! Be right back!"
James ducked underneath a dangerously swaying mistletoe archway and headed purposefully down the hall. He couldn't just stand by while Sirius moped away Christmas. He was his brother now! And this was his first Christmas away from that horrible house. It would be cheery and full of good tidings if James had to stun a thousand ornery fairies!
Thankfully, he didn't think he would have to, because he was calling in the ultimate weapon against Sirius-gloom: Remus Lupin. He'd get Peter too. Peter was excellent at making cocoa, and James anticipated a need for a whole lot of cocoa.
Dearest Moony,
Sirius is in a Funk, so great a funk it threatens to become an unbanishable miasma. The very Spirit of Christmas is threatened. Please come immediately! Only you can save Christmas!
Prongs
Wormy,
Drop everything. There is a Christmas Emergency and the Marauders require your good cheer and cocoa.
Prongs
Prongs,
I'm not sure one of Sirius' moods qualifies as a threat to the Spirit of Christmas. The Spirit of Christmas is more resilient than you might think. My mum will be narked if I take off this year, how bad is it really?
Moony
Moony,
He doesn't even want cocoa.
Prongs
Fine. I'll be there in the morning.
Moony
James was waiting by the fireplace with three cups of cocoa under a warming charm, ready to commence a Very Merry Marauders Meeting.
Peter arrived first, looking grim but determined as he dusted soot off himself. He produced a tiny whisk from his pocket that he swore made frothier cocoa. James clapped him on the shoulder, "Good man, Pete! Knew I could count on you!"
Peter beamed. "Of course Prongs. Couldn't let a Marauder go without cocoa."
Remus came through a moment later. He looked less enthusiastic. "This better be worth it James, my mum just took the fleece out of me. I think it's safe to say she's gotten over the novelty of me having friends and is just annoyed you sods take all my time."
"What would make it worth it?" James asked slyly.
Peter looked between them, smirking a little. "Yea Moony-- what would make it worth it?"
Remus pinked a little. "Shut up. Come on, what's the plan?"
James and Peter burst out laughing. Remus crossed his arms and mostly succeeded at looking dignified. "I regret ever telling you."
James sobered up, "Not really, Moony?"
Remus sighed. "No not really. But come on, what's wrong with Sirius?"
"I cannot begin to answer that question."
They settled on the rug in front of the fire, Peter providing even more cocoa from a flask in his pocket, which he then whisked very seriously. James tried to solicit advice on the possibility of a present for Evans, Peter providing a number of good suggestions from his life with sisters, before Remus suggested they address the task at hand, because he didn't piss off his mum just to help James piss off Evans.
"What would make you feel better at Christmas? If you were away from your family."
"You'd think this would be easier, considering how shit they are." Peter said.
"To be honest, I didn't really expect this," James said. "I thought he’d be happy to be here."
"He is happy to be here. It’s just more complicated than that." Remus said.
"Ok, yea,” James said, seeming a little bolstered.
All three boys sighed, taking sips of cocoa.
"We just need to rally! More Christmas fun, I say. We should make gingerbread houses. No! A gingerbread house contest!"
"I don't know, Prongs,” Remus said.
"Yea! A wizard's gingerbread house contest!" Peter tacked on.
"Yes!" James jumped up. "Pete, you'll have to be in charge of the gingerbread baking effort. Remus, you drag him out of bed. I think I've got another idea for something that will help, pending further research."
James bounded out of the room, faith in the spirit of Christmas fully restored by their brief conference. Peter jumped up as well, rushing downstairs to the Potters’ kitchen, no doubt to make a spectacular mess of gingerbread baking. Remus wandered down the hall and knocked softly on the door to Sirius' room.
"Go away! I don't want any bloody eggnog!"
Remus poked his head into the room; Sirius was lying curled up on his side beneath a gigantic quilt, staring out of the window with his back turned to the overwrought decorations. Red and green flashing lights above his bed reflected on his dark hair.
"No nog, sorry."
Sirius scrambled up on the bed. "Remus!"
"Can I come in?"
"Yea! Of course! When did you get here?"
"Just now. James' called in reinforcements for the visitations of the ghosts of Christmas past."
"Not you too Moony."
Remus smiled and sat down on the bed next to Sirius. "Not me too, what?"
"James won't let up about all this Christmas shite. Can't a bloke hate a holiday in peace?"
"You can certainly hate it, but I think the impending gingerbread house contest will impede doing so in peace."
Sirius groaned. "Please-- you've got to get him to let up."
"Funny, he said the same about you. Match made in heaven."
Sirius sniffed. "Hardly. The man has no taste! Look at all this tinsel! It's blinding me! I'm serious! I've got a headache from all the sparkly shite in here!"
Remus smiled. If Sirius was crafting melodramatic complaints, he must be feeling a little better. "Come on then, let's get out of here."
Remus stood and tugged on Sirius' arm, but he hunkered down. "Mooooooony, noooooooo! I don't wanna make gingerbread houses! I hate gingerbread! I've sworn off gingerbread!"
"Liar! I can smell double ginger gingerbread all over you!"
"Noooooo! You can't make me love sugar plum shingles!"
With an almighty tug, Remus pulled Sirius up from the bed and tumbling into himself. Sirius steadied himself with his hands on Remus' shoulders, laughing hard enough to warrant it.
"Thanks for coming Moony." He said, and to Remus' surprise, hugged him briefly around the shoulders.
"Sure, Pads."
Leaving Peter and James alone with the gingerbread dough turned out to be a grave mistake. The gingerbread house contest started out normal enough, with James delighting in his cookie cottage of chaos, and Sirius complaining about icing sugar in his hair, until the dough men woke up and, displeased with the shoddy construction and their lack of icing-piped pants, mounted a surprisingly well coordinated attack on the boys. Sirius hid underneath the table and laughed himself silly while two gingerbread men shoved sugar plums into Peter's ears.
Remus' hair was caked with royal icing, and James was sporting a small bruise from the blunt end of a candy cane brandished as a sword. Peter swore his hearing was permanently compromised, and Sirius looked marginally brighter.
James suggested celebrating their victory in battle with more cocoa. Sirius protested, but he was eventually worn down.
James raised his mug. "To another impressive Marauder victory! May our enemies bake in the eternal ovens of hell!"
"Here, here!"
"I'm horrified by what I just witnessed, and concerned I'll never be able to enjoy gingerbread again. Thanks lads." Remus raised his cup in mock salute, and took a sip.
"What?" Peter yelled, digging a finger into his ear.
"Drink up Sirius, it’s bad luck to forego a victory toast!" James said.
"Bad manners too."
"Yes, clearly we're a group that stands by manners," Sirius scoffed, but he took a sip anyway. The first sip seemed to fortify him further, and James relaxed a little.
Two minutes later, Sirius had sucked down his cocoa with surprising speed and was smacking his lips guilelessly.
Remus looked between Peter and James. "What did you do to the cocoa?"
"Nothing! Just Wormy's tiny whisk! Miracle, that thing!"
Peter turned on James too. "I didn't use my tiny whisk in this batch. The gingerbread men threw it into their pyre."
Sirius was staring intently at the crumbling remains of the last gingerbread house, oblivious to their conversation.
"Is this the part of the plan that required further research?" Remus asked drily.
"Alright fine. Yes. I found a potion called Holiday Jubilee in my mum's Witch Weekly."
"And brewed it? In twenty minutes?"
"Well I took a few shortcuts, pretty overwrought recipe if you ask me."
Remus rolled his eyes. Peter was less blasé. "James! You can't feed him that shit! You arseholes have no sense of self-preservation!"
"It probably won't poison him," Remus said, watching Sirius squint at the headless gingerbread man in the front door of the smashed house. "What's it supposed to do?"
"Make you feel the spirit of the season!" James said, beaming. "Brilliant, right?"
"Well let's test it then," Remus said. He turned to Sirius, who was still locked in a staring contest with the headless ginger man. "How do you feel?"
Sirius only stared.
Remus shook him a little, "Hey Sirius, how do you feel?"
Sirius turned to him, eyes widening as they reached Remus' face. "I don't know. Sort of let down... And full."
"Well, there's the spirit of the season for you, Prongs."
In the face of the revelation that the spirit of the season was in fact a dissatisfying partial coma, the Marauders decided to watch a movie on the telly. Peter flipped through the channels, James arguing passionately for the commercial channel so he could learn more about muggle things in order to impress Lily. Remus argued that owning a tv was enough, and please to not subject them to that.
Sirius stared at the tv, blinking only occasionally and slumping toward Remus.
"Wait! Go back Pete!" Remus lunged for the remote to turn the channel back one. "Have you guys seen this?" Remus asked, pointing the remote at the scene, which was cycling through the credits in front of paper cutouts of white tipped mountains and pudgy clay birds.
James was immediately interested, leaning forward. "Why's the snow look weird?"
"It's all made of clay and puppets," Remus said.
"Puppets!" James cried.
The credits song meandered on, until the bright red font of the title displayed on the screen: Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys.
James was hopping up and down in his seat, "Who's Rudolph?! Who's Rudolph, Moony?!"
"It's a muggle Christmas story. Just watch and you'll see."
James settled into the couch, clutching his cocoa and looking supremely pleased. Peter looked more hesitant, perhaps questioning why a snowman needed a pocket watch. Sirius was dead asleep but still breathing (Remus checked). Remus hid the remote in the cushions in preparation for the inevitable annoyance when Rudolph's nose started up a shrill piercing note and threw an arm around Sirius' shoulders, ignoring Peter's knowing look.
***
Sirius was bathed in an eerie green light. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, taking in the smooth material of the couch he was laying on-- was that clay? Across from the couch was a paper cutout of cold fire grate, and above that, a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, his frame covered in thin green vines and illuminated by underwater ripples of green light.
Peter was stood in the center of the room, wearing a vest stretched taut over his belly with a gold pocket watch and bolo tie, and a brimmed hat with a colorful feather. His voice was warm and soothing.
Our story starts in the Slytherin Common room. Funny place to start a story about Christmas, I know. But this is a story about misfits, two misfits, in fact, who saved Hogwarts. Ah well, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s see what poor Sirius is up to, shall we?
Near Sirius’ couch, Narcissa was holding court with Avery and Nott. Sirius scowled and stared at the flat empty grate, refusing to acknowledge them for as long as possible.
"Slughorn told us at the meeting last night he'd be giving away a bottle of Felix Felicis today," Narcissa said, voice tipped just this side of carrying.
"Giving away! Surely not!" Avery said, but Narcissa mostly ignored him and continued. "What would you use it for?" She asked, eyes glinting.
"Not likely to tell you, now am I?"
"Wouldn't matter even if you did, you'd be lucky," Nott piped up.
"That's not even how it works!"
"As if anyone cares how it works- what would you use it for?"
Avery whispered something behind his hand to Nott and they both sniggered.
"Oh I suppose you think I don’t know what you're whispering about? There isn't enough luck in the world to win you a girl."
"Wouldn't have to win her."
"Oh how crude!" Narcissa exclaimed theatrically, but there wasn’t much real protest behind it.
"I'd do something fun," Sirius blurted out.
"A bird would be fun, you nancy," Nott sneered.
Sirius clenched his fits on top of his thighs, aching to slug Nott right in the nose. Narcissa tipped her head over to Sirius, body still and poised to strike. "What would you do, Sirius dear?"
"Set off a load of dungbombs in your beds and waltz by Filch's office, not getting caught."
Narcissa laughed, "Oh Sirius, darling. You're just so simple!" She laughed again, and waved her hand elegantly at the common room, "Anyone else here would send in their ministry job application, deliver a clever answer in front of Slughorn. And you," She giggled again, "Your greatest ambition is to throw about dungbombs!"
Avery and Nott started laughing, the sound carrying, until students at other couches and tables abandoned their studies and joined in. Regulus was there, across the room, stone-faced and arms crossed, just watching.
"You're absolutely the worst Slytherin; I can't imagine how you'll live up to the Black name."
Sirius stood up abruptly, fists shaking, blood pounding in his arms and ears. "I don't want to be a sodding Slytherin! I want to be a Gryffindor!"
At that the common room only laughed harder. Sirius kicked at a leg of the couch before turning and fleeing the common room, laughter still ringing in his ears.
He stalked angrily through the castle, not bothering to note what turns he took or staircases he followed, ending up in abandoned corridor. The clay blocks of stone were covered in a thick layer of confetti dust.
Sirius curled up in an arched niche that likely once housed a suit of armor, but was now neglected and empty. Sirius sniffled, it was just so unfair he kept thinking. He didn’t feel like he wanted all that much; just to not feel so weird all the time, to not have to worry all the time about the reaction if he was just himself.
"Hey are you alright?"
Sirius started, feeling angry someone had caught him out in tears. If Nott ever found out, he'd never let up with the nancy comments. Sirius swiped at his tears, fully prepared to growl out a reply, when he looked up and saw a lanky boy, with a soft smile and curls.
"I guess," Sirius shrugged.
The boy moved to sit in the abandoned armor niche. "Budge up," he said.
Sirius scooted over, stunned into obedience by the boy's sweet face. They settled next to one another in silence, legs tucked up. Sirius tried to sneak glances at the boy, and got caught out more often than not.
"So, do you come here often?" the boy asked.
Sirius snorted. "Not here specifically. You?"
"Fairly, yea. This is my niche, you know," He said. "I'm Remus, by the way."
"Sirius."
"Oh, I know."
Sirius deflated. Of course Remus had heard about his awful family, but instead of sneering at Sirius, either because he was too Slytherin, or not Slytherin enough, Remus pulled a bar of chocolate out of his pocket, and broke off a piece for Sirius.
"So why're you here?"
Sirius shrugged. "Why're you here?"
"Werewolf nose." Remus pointed to his nose, which Sirius could see was blushing bright red and starting to glow. Sirius stared in confusion as Remus' red nose emitted a piercing, shrill sound.
"But werewolves don't have red noses!"
Remus just shrugged. "So come on, now you've got to tell me why you're here."
Sirius exhaled heavily. "Mate, I don't even know where to start. I'm all kinds of fucked up."
Remus laughed and handed over the rest of the chocolate bar. "You'll need that then."
Small tendrils of green vine wove themselves over the archway as they shared the chocolate bar. When Remus’ nose wasn’t glowing red, Sirius could see a smattering of freckles over his skin. Remus was adorable; it was just so unfair, Sirius thought again.
"Would you wish away all the ways you don't fit?" Remus asked.
"I've never really thought about it."
“Sometimes I think I wouldn’t be myself without this,” Remus said, waving at his nose, "But sometimes I think, maybe I'd be more myself without this shit to deal with all the time. I mean, no matter what you're always yourself. It's not like if I didn't have this stupid nose I'd wish for it for some character building. Maybe I'd just be happier."
Sirius nodded slowly. "It's different for me. I probably would be happier if I fit in with them. But what’s the point--being happy-- if you make everyone else miserable?"
"You just need better people to fit in with," Remus said, getting up from the niche and offering a hand to Sirius.
Sirius took it and stood up too. "Maybe that's all you need, too."
"Yea. Maybe." Remus looked down the corridor. "Sometimes I really hate it here."
"Then let's just say fuck it. We don't have to stay at Hogwarts."
“Yea but, what’s the alternative?”
“I don’t care. Anything has to be better than hiding all the time.”
“Sometimes I wonder if the hiding is the worst part.”
"Let’s fucking find out," Sirius said as they set off down the corridor.
Peter appeared at the end of the corridor, looking serene.
Remus and Sirius had found each other, but getting out of Hogwarts would prove difficult and treacherous. They had only just ventured out from the safety of the niche, when the piercing eyes of Mrs. Norris lit upon them. They could hear the deep wheezing of the Abominable Filch just around the corner.
Sirius and Remus sprinted down corridors and fairly threw themselves down stairs, but every corner they turned, it seemed the shuffling Abominable Filch was right behind them.
Remus slowed, clutching a stitch in his side and panting. "It's because of my werewolf nose!"
"What?" Sirius asked. "That doesn't make any sense."
Remus just shrugged, rubbing at his ribs and grimacing. "I don't make the rules."
A rumbling wheeze rent the air. Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand and tugged him along the corridor, despite his protests.
"He'll always find my stupid nose!"
"Fuck," Sirius muttered, standing in the middle of the corridor and turning in every direction, he could have sworn there was a passageway nearby, but he couldn't think!
The wheezing got closer, and the Abominable Filch ambled around the corner, letting out an almighty howl as he set eyes on Sirius and Remus. "I've got you now!"
The Abominable Filch tottered closer, he was wearing a large shaggy coat and waving his arms above his head menacingly. "Arrrrgg!"
Suddenly, a gigantic tapestry of Circe and the pigs tumbled down off the wall, burying the Abominable Filch, who yelled and waved angrily beneath the heavy fabric, unable to fumble his way out.
A hand shot out of thin air and shoved Sirius and Remus into a blank stretch of wall, which gave way and everyone tumbled into a dusty, concealed cupboard. The hand then whisked away an invisibility cloak with a stylish flourish to reveal a beaming boy with a mess of dark hair.
"James Potter, Prankster Extraordinaire and Manager of Much Mischief, at your service!"
***
Remus gazed down at Sirius, who was snuggled up close and grumbling and frowning in his sleep. Rudolph and Hermy had just met Yukon Cornelius and escaped the Abominable Snowman, and James was completely entranced. Peter was keeping them well supplied with cocoa. While Remus wouldn’t wish another potion-induced nap on Sirius, he also wasn’t too upset with the turn of events.
***
In the dark of the cupboard, James hadn't stopped moving. He produced several puffskeins from his cloak pockets, tapping each with his wand to enlarge them, chattering all the while about the opportunities for mischief that had brought him to this corridor. Sirius introduced Remus and himself, explaining that they were planning to leave Hogwarts and strike out on their own. When James heard that, he offered them passage on his recently enlarged puffskein drawn sleigh.
“You’ve already helped us tons,” Remus said, a little wary. “We wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Nonsense!” James said, “Climb on! I insist!”
Sirius and Remus stumbled over buckets and mop handles in the now crowded cupboard and clambered onto the sleigh carriage with James. "Hold on tight!" James cried out, sending gusts of wind from his wand at the puffskeins and grinning a little maniacally.
The puffskein sleigh burst forth from the wall concealing the cupboard, startling a now freed Abominable Filch. The Abominable flailed but failed to snatch the sleigh, which was flying swiftly along the corridors of Hogwarts. James’ joviality was contagious, and Sirius and Remus laughed with relief, watching the portraits speed by.
James whooped and hollered, sending stronger and stronger gusts of wind at the puffskeins as they reached the Great Hall, sending the sleigh careening toward the massive front doors. Sirius and Remus shared a look, grinning as the sleigh barreled through the doors.
James took the puffskein sleigh for a victory lap around the Quidditch pitch before the puffskeins began to revolt, bucking free from their tethers. The sleigh bounced down on the pitch, the freed puffskeins floating away placidly in every direction.
James sighed, watching his sleigh team abandon him, before turning abruptly to Remus and Sirius and letting out a great whoop. "That was awesome!"
From the edge of the pitch, with a bird perched on his hat, Peter looked on. Our young group of mischief makers and misfits had escaped the Abominable Filch, but they would soon learn life wasn't so easy outside of Hogwarts.
The wind picked up suddenly and paper flakes of snow starting driving sideways. They had to holler over the howling gusts of winds, trudging through sudden drifts of knee-high snow. They worked to keep their spirits up with warming charms and raw-cheeked smiles, but soon began to feel discouraged. Without a dry place to weather the storm, their freedom from Hogwarts would be short lived. Onward through the blizzard they trudged, their dreams of fully expressed individuality spurring them further.
In the distance, a small hut appeared, pinpricks of warm light barely visible through the storm. James called out over the wind, "Cottage ho!" And Remus reached out briefly to clasp Sirius' hand. The warmth of the gesture carried Sirius' frozen limbs the last distance to the cottage. They pounded on the door, praying for a warm cup of tea and shelter.
The door was cracked open and a girl with a thick braid of red yarn hair peeked out. Remus' nose started glowing, emitting the same shrill beeping from before. "Please, let us in!" Sirius said.
The girl pulled open the heavy door and ushered them inside. In addition to her braids of yarn hair, she was wearing checkered overalls and had red painted freckles on her cheeks, beneath bright green eyes. The cottage was cozy, filled with bunk beds and hammocks of all sizes and a roaring fire in a gigantic grate.
"Thanks," Remus said. "We were running away from Hogwarts when this storm started up."
"Running away from Hogwarts?" The girl asked. "But! You privileged bastards! Hogwarts is only the most magical place in the world!"
"We would be loving to be at Hogwarts, sirs," said a small elf, ears bedecked in mismatched socks.
"What are you all doing here, then?" Sirius asked.
"We is not fitting in sirs," said the elf, shaking his head sadly, fat tears forming in his huge round eyes.
"But that's terrible!" James said.
The girl shook her head. "But it's true. How would you like to be a ginger muggleborn?"
"Or a free elf!"
A sallow boy with a hooked nose poked his head out of a cupboard, "Or a greasy haired git?"
Sirius shoved the boy's greasy head back in the cupboard and snapped the door shut.
"We're all misfits!" cried the girl.
"All we is wanting is to be at Hogwarts."
James was outraged. "Surely there must be something we can do!"
The girl shook her head fiercely, yarn braids swinging around her shoulders. "We didn't ask for your help!"
Just then, the door banged open, and silhouetted against the swirling storm was the figure of a gigantic man. He glanced over at Sirius, Remus and James briefly, making his way over to the fire and collapsing onto a large sagging couch there. He took off his large patched coat and made himself comfortable before addressing them.
"Welcome to the Cottage o' Misfits," He said, eyes crinkling pleasantly. "'Fraid there's no more beds, you'll have kip out on the rug in front of the fire. Jus' fer tonight, mind. I got summat ter talk to you about."
The giant man, King Hagrid, supplied them with huge tankards of steaming butterbeer and headless gingerbread men the size of toddlers. Satisfied with his hospitality, King Hagrid settled in to his knitting (a tea cozy that could comfortably blanket all of Wales), and told them about the injustices at Hogwarts: the board of governors who upheld the baffling tradition of allowing a questionably sentient hat to segregate children, the professor whose death forced a completely negligent history curriculum, an interfering Ministry that installed puppet dictatorships and endorsed torture. It was bleak, but Hagrid asked them to have faith in the Headmaster, Dumbledore, whose hands Hagrid insisted were tied by absolutely necessary secrets. If only the headmaster knew about the Cottage of the Misfits, he would find a place for them all at Hogwarts.
"You'll help us, won't you?" Dobby, the free elf, pleaded.
The ginger muggleborn, Lily, snorted, "As if they can do anything but bully and show off."
"Of course we will!" James promised fervently. "Help, that is. Not bully and show off, I'm way past that."
Peter, peeking through a window into the warmth of the cabin, bolo tie flapping in the gale force winds yelled into the storm: Tired from their blizzard sojourn and consuming a small mountain of sugar, our heroes laid out by the fire to rest. But one of our intrepid journeymen lay awake well into the night.
Remus had gotten up from the warm space between Sirius and James to sit next to a drafty window looking out on the darkly swaying Forbidden Forest. Remus knew his nose would only endanger their mission on behalf of the misfits, but he simply could not bring himself to do anything about it but internally bludgeon himself through the night.
In the morning, our three heroes set out with the undying gratitude of Dobby the house elf and the dismissive derision of Lily the ginger muggleborn to warm their hearts, King Hagrid's imperative ringing in their ears.
Remus led them round to a hidden passageway near the Black Lake, the reprieve from the driving snow was fortifying, even as they feared encountering the Abominable Filch. The passageway was long and winding and caked with clingy bits of dust, but they endured. It ended behind a two faced painting that required a bit of gossip before allowing passage. Sirius told the painting Peter had lied about losing his virginity first because he thought James would feel bad, and they were granted entry.
They peeked their heads out into an abandoned corridor that Sirius recognized as on the seventh floor, from a portrait of one of his despised great uncles. They were just dusting the grime off their shoulders when they heard the telltale wheeze and shuffle of the Abominable Filch, and inevitably, Remus' werewolf nose started to glow red and emit an inexplicable piercing beep.
"Go!" He shouted, pushing Sirius and James down the corridor. "I'll draw him away with the light from my nose!"
Sirius clutched at Remus' hand, "No! Don’t leave!"
Remus smiled wide, giving Sirius one last shove. "I have a plan-- GO!"
James tugged Sirius away as Remus sprinted down the corridor, nose shrill and glowing. "Come on! We've got to get to Dumbledore!"
With reluctance, Sirius allowed James to tug him down the hallway. They stayed in the shadows, sneaking behind statues and ducking into hidden passageways whenever they could. They were so absorbed with not getting caught, they hardly noticed the vines creeping across the old stone walls of Hogwarts. They reached the second floor and saw the stone gargoyles that guarded the headmaster's office.
"What d’you reckon the password is?" James said.
"Hell if I know."
Peter trudged around the corner, his vest was soaking wet and his brimmed hat still carried several inches of snow threatening to topple. He looked harried and fed up.
"You arseholes left me in the snow!"
"You're the narrator! We thought you could pop up anywhere!"
"Yea, I didn't know you were trailing around after us!"
"Well I was!" Peter said in a huff, snow plopping down onto his shoulder.
"I'm sorry buddy, glad you're here now," James said, swiping the snow off his shoulder. "Hey I don't suppose you know anything about this password business?"
Peter straightened his vest and bolo tie, checked and retucked his pocket watch and drew himself up.
The corridor was blessedly empty, but unfortunately, so were our heroes’ heads. Brawn and daring had only brought them so far, and without their more clever companions, they were left scratching their arses.
"Peter! Come on!"
"Pete I know you know! You hear everything round the castle!"
Peter brightened a little. "I do hear everything! Oh alright! It's sweets, it's always a sweet."
James and Sirius quickly ran through every sweet they'd ever eaten, which was a sizeable repertoire. Fizzing Whizzbees! Bertie Botts! Chocolate frogs! But none of the usual sweets were working. As they struggled with the password, the hallways were being dangerously decked with boughs of mistletoe, a faint humming filling the air as the thin vines concealed the ceiling and covered windows.
Sirius grabbed James' arm, pointing in horror. "James! Look! What the fuck is that?"
James faced changed in an instant to one of grim recognition. "Rabid Sentient Mistletoe."
As the vines wove closer to where they were standing, Sirius could make out words to the high pitched humming sound.
deck every hall,
for all must fall this season
kissing kissing, without reason
fail to kiss and you will miss
your freedom
"Merlin’s fucking figgy pudding. That's messed up."
At Sirius' words, the Gargoyles jumped to the side of a rapidly forming stone archway to reveal a tightly winding spiral staircase.
"Figgy pudding! That's it! Come on-- Dumbledore will know what to do!"
They barreled up the stairs, Peter following more sedately. As the staircase spiraled upward, the high pitched singing of the mistletoe was cut off. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, hands clasped as if waiting for them.
"Welcome," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "I understand you've been looking for me."
James spoke up first. "Yes sir."
"Please, sit down." As Dumbledore said it, squashy purple armchairs appeared in front of his desk.
"You see sir, it's about the Cottage of the Misfits."
Dumbledore stroked his beard, eyes twinkling as he listened to James describe the plight of the misfits, how desperately they longed to be at Hogwarts.
"Can't you do anything for them?" James asked.
"My boy, I would dearly love to, but I'm afraid Hogwarts will have to close, the very existence of the school is threatened right now by a Rabid Sentient Mistletoe infestation, the likes of which Professor Sprout assures me, is fantastically rare. Hogwarts will always be home to those who need it, but no one needs their consent violated in the name of misguided holiday spirit. I'm afraid Hogwarts is no longer safe."
Sirius slumped in his seat. Dreams of running away with Remus no longer seemed fun and free, instead, they were weighed down with the realization that hundreds of misfits would be turned away, left on the fringes of society. Hogwarts wasn't perfect, but it was better than freezing to death in a blizzard.
James wasn't ready to give up. "Sir, there must be something we can do."
"Professor Sprout assures me there is only one, exceedingly rare solution: True Love's Kiss."
Professor Dumbledore paused and refolded his hands on the desk. "Sadly, isolating the staff here in the middle of the highlands hasn't led to much romance among them. And while young love can be so pure, it's also completely and irrevocably terrible. I'm afraid we cannot ask the students to risk such a thing. You see, if the kiss is not True Love, the Rabid Sentient Mistletoe will bind the kissers for all of eternity. I'm quite at a loss."
"But Sir! That's not a problem! I love Lily Evans! Truly!"
Sirius clapped a hand on James' shoulder and said quietly to him, "I'm sure Lily will come around mate, but time is of the essence."
"No, Lily won't work," Peter said slowly. "But there's Remus." He was looking steadily at Sirius as he spoke.
Sirius startled-- "But it's the same problem! He doesn't love me back!"
"Don't be thick," James and Peter said simultaneously.
"He's out there right now saving your arse from the Abominable Filch," Peter said.
"Saving all of us," Sirius protested.
"No, Sirius. This will work."
Dumbledore was leaning forward slightly in his seat, twinkle back in his eye. "I must caution you, the consequences of anything less than True Love's Kiss won't be pleasant."
"This will work," James said again.
James' confidence was about the only thing their party had in their favor. Never had the world seen such an infestation of Rabid Sentient Mistletoe, and Remus was out there somewhere in the midst of it with the Abominable Filch. The outlook was bleak.
They didn't have any time to contemplate the difficulty of their position. They rushed back out into the corridor, where the mistletoe had already completely covered the windows, blotting out the bright snow. There was no sign the outside world existed, so thick was the mistletoe upon the windows, and creeping still. James and Sirius stole down the hallways, not wanting to draw the mistletoe's attention.
The plan was to retrace their footsteps back to the seventh floor corridor where they had last left Remus, assuming the Abominable hadn't captured him and forced him into a lifetime of trophy polishing. But as they neared the end of a narrow corridor, the mistletoe wove its way over the door, sealing the exit and forcing them to turn back. They doubled back, counting on the third floor's fickle staircases to give them a lucky break, but found that even the staircases had been so covered with mistletoe they could no longer pivot.
Every entrance to the upper floors they tried was blocked by increasingly aggressive mistletoe vines, their song growing in pitch until both James and Sirius had to cover their ears and shout over the noise. The mistletoe was pushing them toward the Great Hall.
"I've got it!" James said. "We'll leave through the Great Hall and go over to the broom shed! We'll fly to the seventh floor corridor!"
"Brilliant!" Sirius shouted. "Let's go! My ears are bleeding!"
The Great Hall however, had become an evacuation center; every student in the castle had been pushed to the hall and were now running around in a panic underneath the great domed ceiling.
Sirius clutched James arm, "Do you think Moony got trapped up there?"
"It'll be--"
"Sirius! James!" Remus was waving and shouting at them from across the Hall, hoisted up on the shoulders of the Abominable Filch.
James and Sirius pushed and elbowed their way through the crowd, trying to get to him. Sirius reached him first, moved to laughter by the relief that Remus was alive and well, not to mention getting a piggyback from the Abominable Filch.
"What the hell, Remus?!"
"Yea mate, thought we'd lost you!"
Remus cracked a shit eating grin and tapped the Abominable to let him down from his shoulders. Sirius was immediately upon him, hugging him.
"What even happened?" James said.
Remus shrugged one shoulder. "The Abominable’s a misfit, same as everybody else. He just wants to be listened to and appreciated."
James' eyes widened and he nodded along, absorbing Remus' wisdom, but Sirius wasn't convinced.
"What'd you really do?"
"I helped him trash Peeves' favorite hideout."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, but Remus only shrugged one shoulder. "Same rules don't apply to the undead."
"If you say so."
However joyful their reunion, it was marred somewhat by the continued creeping of the mad mistletoe. Several students on the fringes of the hall gave a shout as they were seized by mistletoe and bound from head to toe. Their outcry rippled through the hall as students pushed into the center, creating a heaving mosh pit.
The mistletoe was growing faster now, as if emboldened by the panic, and had stretched to cover the entirety of the Great Hall's massive ceiling, blocking out the light. Students panicked even more as they were thrown into darkness and eternal mistletoe bondage.
"Sirius! You've got to do it now! Before anyone is forced into nonconsensual snogging with Snape! Only you can save--" But James' words were cut off suddenly by a vine of mistletoe around his mouth.
Sirius was free from vines, but no less paralyzed. He turned to Remus, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, unable to tell him the depth of his feelings. The vines suddenly started creeping up his neck, he had to say something! He tried again, but couldn’t speak. He panicked, trying to shout, but the vines wound their way around his mouth.
**
Sirius woke with a gasp.
It was dark and quiet in the house, the telly turned down low. The flickering glow illuminated Remus, who Sirius had slumped on top of and wedged into the corner of the couch.
Sirius sat up and scooted away quickly, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to recover from the vivid memories of his strange dream. "W'time is it?" he mumbled.
"Just gone midnight. James and Peter went up to bed hours ago. James said he was tired, but I'm not convinced he still doesn't think Father Christmas won't come unless you're sleeping."
"Sorry. You could've woken me up."
"It's alright." Remus said quietly.
Remus turned off the telly, but didn't make to get up from the couch. With the television off, only the lights of the Christmas tree illuminated his face.
"I feel weird." Sirius said, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm not surprised. James dosed you with a half-brewed potion."
"Git. But I don't feel potion-y weird."
"How do you feel then?" Remus asked, reaching out to tuck Sirius back under his arm. Sirius was grateful Remus had initiated the contact; he wanted to touch Remus all the time but never knew if he was pushing the boundaries of brotherhood.
"I had a weird dream."
"Yea?"
"Yea. You had a red nose. And it made this horrible noise when it lit up."
"You don't say?"
"Yea! And James had this sleigh of puffskeins and Pete was a snowman."
Remus smiled down at Sirius indulgently. "Sounds very strange."
"Yea... Yea, but. It's not just the dream. Making me feel weird, I mean."
Remus squeezed Sirius' shoulders. "Go on then, tell me about your ghosts of Christmas past."
"That's just it though! I don't know! Don't get me wrong, Christmas with the Blacks was revolting. But-- That's not really what's on my mind."
Sirius looked across Remus' chest to the Christmas tree the Potters always decorated together. They waited until James got home from Hogwarts and hung up the ornaments by hand, ornaments they had cobbled together from acorn crafts and colorful parchment bits with glitter and vacations to Cornwall. They had made ornaments for Sirius this year, pictures of him and James bordered with puffballs, and sparkly parchment snowflakes, and a never-melt icicle in the shape of a dog, and a bit of cross-stitching with his name.
"It's just all so lovely!" Sirius huffed. "They're so lovely and... and I'm not. And I just feel so fucking sick that I can't pull it together to be lovely with them."
"It feels like you can't be normal."
"Yea! And like, I guess I thought I could be normal if I could just get away from them. But now I'm here and I still can't do it."
"Everywhere you go you're stuck with yourself."
"Fuck. Yea. That's it. That's it exactly." Sirius tilted his head up to look at Remus. "Do you feel like that?"
"Yea. A lot of the time."
Sirius wound his arms around Remus and squeezed. Remus moved a hand from Sirius' back up to his neck. They had never touched quite like this before.
"But I don't feel like that as much when I'm with you." Remus said.
"Me too."
"Really?"
"Really. It's like all the broken bits are ok. Like you think they're ok."
"They are ok. You're alright."
Sirius felt like he might cry, so instead of telling Remus with a voice that might crack how much those words meant to him, he pressed a small kiss to the soft skin of Remus' neck. Remus inhaled sharply, and slid down the arm of the couch, to rest his face even with Sirius'. They looked at one another for long moments.
Remus pressed tentatively closer, barely touching his lips to Sirius’. He pulled back to assess how it had gone over, but Sirius had already rushed forward to kiss Remus again.
Everything was hushed and twinkling as they surged into long kisses and then receded again to pant into each others' mouths. "You're so wonderful," Sirius mumbled against Remus' lips. "I'm really glad you came."
"Mm, I'm really glad I came too." Remus threaded his hands into Sirius' hair. "I really like your hair all grown out. I've wanted to tell you that for ages."
"I like your lips."
"You just like snogging."
"No! No really, I've always liked them. And the way you smile. And you looked really cute in my dream with a red nose."
Remus shook his head. "So do you think you'll always hate Christmas?"
"I think I can promise I'll never descend into James' level of festive insanity."
"But how will you commemorate the birth of our capitalist god, Santa?"
Sirius ducked his head a little. "Well, it'll be our anniversary. So... snogging seems appropriate."
Remus smiled wide and held Sirius closer. "Are you sure that's not too cheery for you?"
"Shut up."
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Date: 2017-12-31 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-05 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-07 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-07 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 12:42 am (UTC)There was so much to love here: mopey Sirius, CorneliusJames (which is quite inspired, really), the scene in the Slytherin common room, this:
James took the puffskein sleigh for a victory lap around the Quidditch pitch before the puffskeins began to revolt, bucking free from their tethers. The sleigh bounced down on the pitch, the freed puffskeins floating away placidly in every direction.. And, of course, the cottage of misfits (Dolly!Lily, Snape, Dobby, and Hagrid? What more could I ever hope for? Hilarious!) I also adored Peter. As you know, good!Peter is a favorite thing of mine and you wrote him so well. And Burl-Ives-as-Snowman-Peter? Even better?
In fact, this whole piece just made me giggle and smile. This bit made me laugh so hard: Leaving Peter and James alone with the gingerbread dough turned out to be a grave mistake. The gingerbread house contest started out normal enough, with James delighting in his cookie cottage of chaos, and Sirius complaining about icing sugar in his hair, until the dough men woke up and, displeased with the shoddy construction and their lack of icing-piped pants, mounted a surprisingly well coordinated attack on the boys. Sirius hid underneath the table and laughed himself silly while two gingerbread men shoved sugar plums into Peter's ears.
Oh, and Rabid Sentient Mistletoe? Perfect!
But perhaps the very best part was the fact that, hilarious as this was, it was also very sweet. I loved how your brought it all round with the darling kisses and confessions at the end. It fit in so perfectly with the misfit/Rudolph theme. Lovely!
And this line will always be with me: Onward through the blizzard they trudged, their dreams of fully expressed individuality spurring them further.
THANK YOU!!!
no subject
Date: 2018-01-09 07:44 am (UTC)