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small_giftsTitle: And Eventually, It's Firelight
Author/Artist:liseuse
Recipient:lanna
Rating: PG-13 (mostly for swearing)
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *None *
Word count:4,460
Summary: Five Christmases, families, and friendship.
Notes: Happy Small Gifts,lanna! Many thanks to wildestranger for the beta. Any and all mistakes remaining are mine and mine alone.
Christmas, 1971
Remus kicked James on the shin as Sirius left the train compartment in search of the trolley. "Stop looking at him like that," he hissed.
“Like what!” James yelped, rubbing his shin and glowering.
“Like he’s a kicked puppy.” Remus sat further back in his seat, tucking his legs firmly out of the way of a retaliatory kick. “It won’t help.”
“Not James’s fault that Sirius’s parents are shit,” Peter said.
Remus thought that Peter’s shrug didn’t quite cover the thrill he still obviously felt at swearing. He’d been swearing every sentence he spoke on the train ride back to London, as if he was stocking up before going home. Knowing what Peter had said about his parents he probably was stocking up.
“I didn’t say they weren’t,” Remus said. Sirius hadn’t said that much about his parents but the few things he’d mentioned had been horrifying. Some of the things had been horrifying but then other people had nodded along as if they were normal, and that had been weirder. Marlene’s aunt apparently had house elf heads up in the hallway too. “It’s just that looking at him like that isn’t going to make it less horrible for him that he’s got to spend Christmas with them.”
“I asked him to come to my house for Christmas,” James said round a mouthful of chocolate. “Mum said it would be fine, and she even wrote to his mum asking if he could come.”
“Yes,” Remus said, “and then he got a very angry letter from his mother reminding him of his duty, and wasn’t it bad enough that he was a Gryffindor, and that he needed to come home so he could be reintroduced to the Black way of doing things. Not a great plan, that.” He quickly pulled his legs completely under him, sitting cross-legged, and out of the way of James’s unexpectedly long legs.
“What are you all glowering about?” Sirius said, coming back into the compartment.
“My Great Aunt Tatty,” Remus said quickly. “She always comes for Christmas dinner, and she hates my dad.”
“Did she ever send a snake down the table at his throat?” Sirius asked. “What?” he said, as they all looked at him. “My grandmother did it to Uncle Ignatius once. She wouldn’t tell me how and I’ve always wondered.”
“No,” Remus said slowly. “She just complains about how my mother married beneath her and that my dad is a waste of space. And she doesn’t like the house, or the weather, or being that far up north. Still comes every year though.”
Peter nodded. “My Aunt Calliope is like that. She thinks our house is too small, or sometimes too big, and it’s too far away from everything. But we have to keep having her, because we can’t let her spend Christmas alone, my mum says.” He rubbed at a scuff on the toe of his boot. “Don’t see why not.”
“Huh,” James said as if the idea that people might come for Christmas that you didn’t want to was a new idea.
The train started to slow as they got to the outskirts of London, and by the time everyone had gathered all their belongings they were in King’s Cross. The Potters were standing by the door of the train carriage waiting for them. James got big swooping hugs from both his parents, and the rest of them got gentle hair tousles. Mrs Potter smoothed Sirius’s hair back down before letting go. Mr Potter made some space for them all to get through the crush of students saying goodbye to each other, and Remus saw his dad, standing by one of the pillars, looking over the top of the paper. He waved to show his dad that he’d seen him, just as Peter spotted his mum.
Sirius’s parents were stood together, a little apart from the crowd. They were both tall and dark-haired, and in front of them was a boy who looked like a mini-Sirius. Sirius’s mother was talking to a tall, blonde, witch that Remus recognised from around school. His father beckoned as he saw Sirius, his eyes skimming over the Potters as if they didn’t exist.
Sirius straightened his spine and grew about three inches taller, and looked three years unhappier. “Right,” he said, “see you lot in January. Have a good hols.” He smiled at them all and then turned around, back ramrod straight.
They stood and watched as Sirius walked across the platform to his parents. Neither of them hugged him, though Regulus threw himself at him. Sirius waved just before they walked through the barrier.
“You all need to write to him,” Mrs Potter said. “Poor mite.” She smiled sadly and then tousled Remus and Peter’s hair again before telling them to run along to their parents. James threw his arms around her. “I’m glad you’re like you, not like Sirius’s mum,” he said.
She smiled at James’s father, over his head. “I’m pretty glad too,” she said.
Christmas, 1975
Sirius shoved one last textbook in his trunk and slammed it shut before sitting down on it. The sound reverberated around the room and Peter poked his head out from the curtains around his bed looking like he was going to say something before spotting the look on Sirius’s face and retreating.
“Look, mate,” James said carefully, “I’m not sure it’s the trunk’s fault.” He scuffed his shoe along the floor and tried to catch Sirius’s eye. “It’s just two weeks, and then you’ll be back here.”
“Fuck off, Jamie,” Sirius snapped. “You spend two weeks in Grimmauld Place, Ancient Tomb of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and you tell me how long two fucking weeks are, alright?”
Remus sat down on the trunk next to Sirius and knocked his shoulder gently against Sirius’s. “He didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly. “His brain’s gone because Lily spoke to him yesterday.”
“She told him to piss off and jump in the lake,” Peter said. “It was great.”
“It was pretty great,” Sirius agreed. “I think it was really made by how hard she shoved him in the chest.” He turned to face James, “I thought you were going to end up in the cauldron.”
“It really was great,” James sighed with a dopey look on his face. “Oh, Evans, light of my life, fire in my heart. I’d swim in the lake under the moonlight with her.”
“You should suggest that,” Remus said. “In public. So we can all hear her answer.” He grinned at Sirius as they watched James’s mind turn over how he could ask Lily if she wanted to go for a midnight swim and very carefully didn’t examine what the funny tumbling sensation in his stomach at the sight of Sirius’s smile might mean. It wasn’t, he thought, as if he didn’t have some idea, it just felt like it might not be a good idea and much as being at home was more boring than being at school, it might be a bit of a relief from seeing Sirius and feeling the funny tumbling sensation all the time.
“Do you think she’d agree?” James asked. He had a jumper in his hands, holding it as if he’d forgotten what on earth it was and what it might be for.
“No, James, I don’t.” Remus rolled his eyes. “This is Lily Evans we’re talking about, right? The girl who nearly pushed you into a cauldron of half-brewed Dissolving Draught? Who has told you repeatedly that she doesn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with you and who, memorably, told you at dinner last night that she’d rather drink arsenic than spend five minutes with you?”
James pouted, “I’m sure she didn’t really mean it.”
“Okay,” Remus said flatly. “It’s getting a bit creepy, to be honest, the way you follow her around. I think it’s called stalking.” He summoned his trunk from under the bed and took the jumper from James. “That’s mine, and I asked you if you had it. Mum’d kill me if I didn’t bring it home.”
“I took it the other week because it looked soft,” James said.
“Oh, well, why not steal it then?” Remus laughed. “Look, James,” he said more seriously, “you really do need to calm it a bit where Lily is concerned. I know you like her but I think she’s one invitation to Hogsmeade away from going to Dumbledore about it.”
Sirius nodded in agreement. “Remus is right. You’re about fifty acres away from charming and well into seeming like you’d fit right in with the gallery of lechers at Grimmauld Place.”
James looked unconvinced which was about what Remus had expected. Not only would Christmas be a nice break from the funny tumbling feelings about Sirius it would also be a nice rest from James and his endless stupid attempts to get Lily to notice him. Frankly, Remus thought, he hoped Lily did push James in the lake at some point just to teach him a lesson.
There was a knock at the door before Caradoc poked his head round. “Five minutes until your trunks need to be outside the door, chaps,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t want to miss the train!”
“No, wouldn’t want that,” Sirius muttered under his breath. He slouched into himself on the trunk, as if he could pull himself into thin air.
“Cheers, Caradoc,” Remus said. “We’ll be ready.” Caradoc nodded and shut the door, whistling as he went down the corridor.
They shoved their trunks out into the corridor and headed down towards the carriages. Remus shoved down the bump of excitement he felt about going home. He always tried to hide how much he was looking forward to it; it seemed mean to be obviously excited in the face of Sirius’s misery. But he was looking forward to seeing his parents, and eating his mum’s roast chicken, and reading in front of the fire in their small sitting room. He knew James and Peter were looking forward to going home as well.
If he thought there was any chance it would have gone well he’d have invited Sirius to spend Christmas with him but the idea of Sirius and his cut glass accent and pureblood manners, which seemed to get dragged up from the soles of his feet when parents were around, in the Lupin’s small cottage was laughable. And Sirius’s parents would never have let him come anyway. If they wouldn’t let him spend the holidays with the eminently respectable, if not quite members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Potters, they’d never let him spend them with the Lupins. Let alone spend them in Mytholmroyd.
It was a rainy evening in London when the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. Sirius dragged a cloak from the luggage rack, and pulled it on resentfully. It was midnight black with silver embroidery and Remus knew that the crest of the House of Black was embroidered on the inside of the left breast. Sirius hid it mostly, but Remus had seen him pull it out from the bottom of the trunk and curl up in bed in it occasionally.
Regulus knocked on the door of the carriage and Sirius kicked it open. “What?” he scowled.
“Mother and father are expecting us to get off the train together,” Regulus said. His hair was slicked down and his cloak, unlike Sirius’s was completely uncreased. Remus sent a quick smoothing charm at the cloak, careful to keep it light so that Sirius didn’t notice. Regulus caught his eye and smiled imperceptibly. “They said they didn’t want to see any demonstrations of unsuitable friendship like last year,” Regulus was clearly quoting from a letter and he stepped back outside the carriage.
James ruffled Sirius’s hair and then carefully smoothed it back down. “I’ll write, and Remus will write, and Peter will write, and it’s only two weeks.”
Sirius rubbed his nose with his hand and tried to smile. “I know. And I’ll write back.” He nodded to Peter, “Have a good Christmas,” he said. “Don’t eat too many mince pies.”
“I am going to eat every mince pie my mum can bake,” Peter promised.
Remus knocked his shoulder into Sirius’s and then had the breath knocked out of him by the force of the hug that Sirius pulled him into. “I know owls take a while to reach Mytholmroyd, but I’ll write,” Sirius promised.
Remus leaned back slightly so he could see Sirius and nodded. “They don’t like leaving the north much either, but I’ll write too.” The funny tumbling sensation was back and getting stronger and he was more grateful than he’d admit when Regulus knocked on the carriage door. “Go on, you don’t want to keep Regulus, or your parents, waiting.”
Sirius and Regulus stepped off the train together, looking nearly identical from the back as they walked across the platform. Just like last year their parents were standing off to the side, backs straight as ramrods, and faces severe. As Remus, James and Peter made their way over to their parents, the Black family stepped smartly through the wall, two house-elves scurrying after with the trunks.
Christmas, 1976.
Remus silently packed his trunk, trying not to listen to James and Sirius talking about their exciting plans for Christmas. Peter had packed earlier and disappeared from their room, with a vague excuse about having to go and help Marlene with something. He felt, and was annoyed at himself for it, faintly guilty for the air of tension which kept sending Peter scurrying off. He kept reminding himself that it wasn’t actually his fault that everything was fucked up, and that all the blame for that was squarely on Sirius. It had been months, including the long summer holiday away from Hogwarts and the reminders of how close he’d been to doing something unforgivable thanks to the actions of others, and somehow time wasn’t doing its job. Dumbledore had badgered him when they’d returned for sixth year, twinkling kindly at him, and spouting truisms about the power of friendship and the power of the human heart to forgive. Remus had smiled, tamping down the snarl he wanted to let loose, and promised to consider it. He’d tried, but just as they were relaxing into something approaching the easy friendships they’d always had, he would be back there, reeling at the knowledge of what Sirius had done, and what that must mean he thought of Remus.
The part of him which still, despite everything, felt tumbly when he thought about Sirius, was naggingly pleased that this year Sirius wasn’t approaching Christmas like a man about to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Regulus had cornered him after Arithmancy a few weeks ago, asking him to try and convince Sirius not to go to the Potters for Christmas, but to go to Grimmauld. Remus had laughed, harshly and asked Regulus why the fuck he thought Remus cared where Sirius spent Christmas. Regulus had looked at him like he couldn’t believe how much of an idiot Remus thought he was. “I don’t know why you aren’t talking to him, but I know you care about him. He’s not helping anything by refusing to go home for the holidays, and you know it.”
Regulus was looking somehow stretched these, Remus thought. As if the weight of being the scion of the House of Black had descended abruptly on his shoulders when he’d never expected it to.
“I might not be talking to Sirius right now,” Remus had said, sitting down next to Regulus on the courtyard wall, “but I would never try to convince him to spend Christmas with your parents.”
Regulus had stood up, spitting out a “fuck you, Lupin” before stalking off inside. Remus watched him disappear inside the castle and had felt a wave of intense sorrow sweep through him for Regulus and the holiday he was about to have. He’d never given that much thought to Regulus, happy to believe Sirius’s assessment of his little brother, to see the undercurrent of fierce protective love that Sirius had for him, and to assume he was mostly an annoying little brother, a bit too much like his parents, and not entirely to be blamed for that. In the aftermath of Sirius fucking up so massively, Remus found he was reassessing things. He’d always known there was a cruel streak running through Sirius, but he’d never acknowledged how close to the surface it was. Had never wanted to know. He was happy for Sirius, not having to spend Christmas in a house he hated with parents he hated and who seemed to hate him, but he wondered if Sirius had given a second’s thought to how bad it was going to be for Regulus. It seemed unlikely; Sirius wasn’t prone to being considerate. Even, maybe especially, to Regulus.
Remus finished packing and flicked his wand, sending his trunk towards the door so it would be ready for the house elves. He stood and grabbed his cloak. “I’ll see you on the train,” he said shortly to James and Sirius.
“Off to see Gideon?” Sirius asked snottily.
Remus felt a mean thrill go through him at that, pleased that Sirius was pissed off that Remus had other friends, that he’d noticed that maybe Remus could be friends with other people and that he wasn’t just a monster to be used to scare people. “Might be,” he said, and smiled to himself at Sirius’s muttered “what the fuck?” as he closed the door.
Christmas, 1977
Remus sleepily leaned back in his seat, trying to fight against the soporific effect of the train’s movement. “It’s strange, I’ve just thought how daft it is that all of us, no matter where we live, have to take the train into London. I’m just going to have to queue to Floo most of the way back North.”
“Could just come and stay at mine,” Sirius offered lazily. He had his feet stretched out right across the compartment and his head pillowed on James’s shoulder.
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Have you got any furniture yet?” he asked, and moved his ankles out of the way of Sirius’s feet. “Nah, I’m looking forward to going home.” The outside world felt sharp and dangerous and Remus could feel the last few months of school, and relative safety, disappearing in front of him. He wanted to go home, to the little cottage on the outskirts of town, to his mum’s cooking and to being fussed over.
“I don’t want to furnish in a rush,” Sirius said haughtily. Uncle Alphard had, they had all agreed when they saw it, purchased a delightful flat. He’d just simultaneously apparently failed to recognise that it was a very large flat and contained absolutely no furniture, and that seventeen year old boys with no income weren’t going to be able to get furniture. The Potters had donated a few odds and ends and Pete’s mother had offered her mother’s old sofa, but Sirius still didn’t have a bed or anything to put a drink down on. The record player was sat on the kitchen counter, and there were two unmatched chairs, and one very uncomfortable stool which had been Transfigured from a packing crate.
“And anyway,” James said to Sirius, “you won’t be at yours as it is. You’re still coming to mine, right?”
“Of course I am, wouldn’t miss Christmas with the Potters for the world!” Sirius said and ruffled James’s hair. He was aiming for insouciant, Remus thought, and it might have worked if they hadn’t all seen his beaming smile when the letter formally inviting him for Christmas had arrived from Mrs Potter. James had been assuring him he was welcome for weeks, but some remnants of social niceties lurked in Sirius apparently. Remus had been relieved when the invitation arrived, he hadn’t liked the thought of Sirius spending Christmas alone. He’d been building himself up to invite Sirius to his for the holidays if Mrs Potter hadn’t invited him, no matter that he still couldn’t imagine Sirius in Mytholmroyd or interacting with his parents.
It wasn’t just that he couldn’t imagine Sirius in his house, or walking round the streets or up on the cragg, but that his parents couldn’t understand that Remus had just about forgiven Sirius. Remus knew that they felt it was an unforgivable betrayal, that they’d worked so hard to make sure Remus could go to school, and that his secret would be hidden, and to have that precarious balance nearly ruined by a mean-hearted schoolboy prank was beyond their own personal pale. It had taken Remus nearly a year, and one memorable shouting match on the Quidditch pitch, carefully cloaked in a silencing spell, to get near to forgiveness. Remus’s parents would have invited Sirius if Remus had insisted, but the tension might have matched that of Grimmauld Place. Remus felt selfish but he wanted one last cosy, small, comfortable Christmas before the end of school sent him out into the world, and into the fray that they were just on the edges of.
Christmas, 1978
“I’m just saying,” James grumbled, “that this couch is the least comfortable thing in existence and I don’t understand why you won’t replace it.” He shoved the half-broken spring back down and leaned hard against it hoping it might keep it in place.
“Not made of money, remember,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. He caught Lily’s eye and grinned. She had commandeered the one comfortable chair in Sirius’s flat, and was resisting all efforts by James to prise her out of it. She might have agreed to marry him, she’d said, but there was no fucking way she was going to voluntarily sit on that lump of concrete that called itself a sofa.
Pete stretched out in front of the fire, sending a gentle incendio towards it so the flames flickered higher. The light bounced off the glass baubles on the tree, making the living room seem cosier than the high ceilings warranted. They’d spent the day dashing round, using the last of their energy, everyone back from missions they couldn’t talk about, and hoping that even the Death Eaters wanted Christmas at home.
The tree was up, and full of baubles and the Muggle fairylights that Remus and Lily had bought. Sanjit could be heard, through the wall, practising something which, with a generous ear, could be recognised as the Coventry Carol. Remus had made them turn the record player off earlier because he knew Sanjit wouldn’t practice if he could just listen to The Jam instead. Mrs Patel had made that very clear when she’d bumped into Remus in the stairwell the other week, and even he had had to admit that there were only so many times that it was realistic to expect your neighbours to listen to Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.
Sirius levered himself off the floor from where he was lying beneath the Christmas tree and wandered into the kitchen. Remus heard the window being opened and the sound of Sirius clambering on the counter to sit on the windowsill. He picked up Peter’s empty glass and followed Sirius into the kitchen, gently pushing the door shut behind him to stop the cold air from getting into the living room.
Sirius was sat on the windowsill, his feet in the sink, facing out over the street. He turned around as Remus came into the kitchen and smiled. “Happy Christmas Eve, moonshine,” he said.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Remus said, “I don’t want slippers for Christmas. I want you to stop calling me that.”
“Never,” Sirius said and handed the joint over.
Remus hoisted himself up on the counter and joined Sirius on the windowsill, taking a long drag before handing it back. “Almost looks pretty from up here,” he said.
“Devastatingly attractive, I’d say,” Sirius drawled and then had to grab Remus’s sleeve to stop him falling off the ledge as he hooted with laughter after having turned round to see Sirius looking at him. “Charming,” Sirius said.
“You sounded like Bertie Wooster might if he was trying to seduce someone, and it was a bit weird,” Remus said once he’d stopped laughing. “Not that I mind, you understand, it was just somewhat jarring.”
Sirius leaned in and kissed him quickly. “How quickly do you think we can get that lot out of the flat?”
Remus looked at his watch. “Well, it’s nearly time for Pete to leave or he’ll miss his Floo appointment.”
“Might just shove Jamie out of the door at the same time,’ Sirius said. “I’m sure Lily’d follow him.”
Remus grinned and swung himself down from the windowsill. He held his hand out to Sirius to help him down, and yanked the window closed. When they went back into the living room James was handing Lily her coat, and Peter had disappeared behind a massive scarf.
“Sorry,” Peter said, “but I’ve got to go. If I miss this Floo appointment mum’ll kill me.”
James pulled Sirius in for a hug. “We’re just going because we figure you and Remus want to start the Christmas celebrations early. Lil was all for staying just to make you annoyed but no, I said, we need to be the better people! Rise above the japes and temptations!”
Sirius laughed, the sound bouncing around the room and ruffled James’s hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Happy Christmas, Prongs,” he said.
Lily rolled her eyes and kissed both of them on the cheek. “Happy Christmas you two,” she said, tucking her hands into her coat pockets and opening the door.
“Happy Christmas,” Remus and Sirius chorused as James, Lily and Peter went through the door. Remus locked it behind them and flicked his wand at the fire to calm it down a bit. He went to stand in front of Sirius, leaning in close to kiss him, and a shiver went up his spine as Sirius’s hands found their way into his hair, tugging slightly.
Sirius leaned back, looking down slightly at Remus, one hand in his hair and another sliding down to cup his arse. “Happy Christmas.”
Remus groaned quietly as Sirius fondled his arse and then pulled away, heading for the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, looking over his shoulder, and smiled as Sirius pushed him up against the doorframe, kissing him firmly. The world, he thought, was big and scary and he had no money and there were Death Eaters everywhere, but their flat was warm and bright, and Sirius was there, and tomorrow they’d get up and eat breakfast and open presents, and everything would be still for one day.
Author/Artist:
liseuseRecipient:
lannaRating: PG-13 (mostly for swearing)
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *None *
Word count:4,460
Summary: Five Christmases, families, and friendship.
Notes: Happy Small Gifts,
lanna! Many thanks to wildestranger for the beta. Any and all mistakes remaining are mine and mine alone. Remus kicked James on the shin as Sirius left the train compartment in search of the trolley. "Stop looking at him like that," he hissed.
“Like what!” James yelped, rubbing his shin and glowering.
“Like he’s a kicked puppy.” Remus sat further back in his seat, tucking his legs firmly out of the way of a retaliatory kick. “It won’t help.”
“Not James’s fault that Sirius’s parents are shit,” Peter said.
Remus thought that Peter’s shrug didn’t quite cover the thrill he still obviously felt at swearing. He’d been swearing every sentence he spoke on the train ride back to London, as if he was stocking up before going home. Knowing what Peter had said about his parents he probably was stocking up.
“I didn’t say they weren’t,” Remus said. Sirius hadn’t said that much about his parents but the few things he’d mentioned had been horrifying. Some of the things had been horrifying but then other people had nodded along as if they were normal, and that had been weirder. Marlene’s aunt apparently had house elf heads up in the hallway too. “It’s just that looking at him like that isn’t going to make it less horrible for him that he’s got to spend Christmas with them.”
“I asked him to come to my house for Christmas,” James said round a mouthful of chocolate. “Mum said it would be fine, and she even wrote to his mum asking if he could come.”
“Yes,” Remus said, “and then he got a very angry letter from his mother reminding him of his duty, and wasn’t it bad enough that he was a Gryffindor, and that he needed to come home so he could be reintroduced to the Black way of doing things. Not a great plan, that.” He quickly pulled his legs completely under him, sitting cross-legged, and out of the way of James’s unexpectedly long legs.
“What are you all glowering about?” Sirius said, coming back into the compartment.
“My Great Aunt Tatty,” Remus said quickly. “She always comes for Christmas dinner, and she hates my dad.”
“Did she ever send a snake down the table at his throat?” Sirius asked. “What?” he said, as they all looked at him. “My grandmother did it to Uncle Ignatius once. She wouldn’t tell me how and I’ve always wondered.”
“No,” Remus said slowly. “She just complains about how my mother married beneath her and that my dad is a waste of space. And she doesn’t like the house, or the weather, or being that far up north. Still comes every year though.”
Peter nodded. “My Aunt Calliope is like that. She thinks our house is too small, or sometimes too big, and it’s too far away from everything. But we have to keep having her, because we can’t let her spend Christmas alone, my mum says.” He rubbed at a scuff on the toe of his boot. “Don’t see why not.”
“Huh,” James said as if the idea that people might come for Christmas that you didn’t want to was a new idea.
The train started to slow as they got to the outskirts of London, and by the time everyone had gathered all their belongings they were in King’s Cross. The Potters were standing by the door of the train carriage waiting for them. James got big swooping hugs from both his parents, and the rest of them got gentle hair tousles. Mrs Potter smoothed Sirius’s hair back down before letting go. Mr Potter made some space for them all to get through the crush of students saying goodbye to each other, and Remus saw his dad, standing by one of the pillars, looking over the top of the paper. He waved to show his dad that he’d seen him, just as Peter spotted his mum.
Sirius’s parents were stood together, a little apart from the crowd. They were both tall and dark-haired, and in front of them was a boy who looked like a mini-Sirius. Sirius’s mother was talking to a tall, blonde, witch that Remus recognised from around school. His father beckoned as he saw Sirius, his eyes skimming over the Potters as if they didn’t exist.
Sirius straightened his spine and grew about three inches taller, and looked three years unhappier. “Right,” he said, “see you lot in January. Have a good hols.” He smiled at them all and then turned around, back ramrod straight.
They stood and watched as Sirius walked across the platform to his parents. Neither of them hugged him, though Regulus threw himself at him. Sirius waved just before they walked through the barrier.
“You all need to write to him,” Mrs Potter said. “Poor mite.” She smiled sadly and then tousled Remus and Peter’s hair again before telling them to run along to their parents. James threw his arms around her. “I’m glad you’re like you, not like Sirius’s mum,” he said.
She smiled at James’s father, over his head. “I’m pretty glad too,” she said.
Sirius shoved one last textbook in his trunk and slammed it shut before sitting down on it. The sound reverberated around the room and Peter poked his head out from the curtains around his bed looking like he was going to say something before spotting the look on Sirius’s face and retreating.
“Look, mate,” James said carefully, “I’m not sure it’s the trunk’s fault.” He scuffed his shoe along the floor and tried to catch Sirius’s eye. “It’s just two weeks, and then you’ll be back here.”
“Fuck off, Jamie,” Sirius snapped. “You spend two weeks in Grimmauld Place, Ancient Tomb of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and you tell me how long two fucking weeks are, alright?”
Remus sat down on the trunk next to Sirius and knocked his shoulder gently against Sirius’s. “He didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly. “His brain’s gone because Lily spoke to him yesterday.”
“She told him to piss off and jump in the lake,” Peter said. “It was great.”
“It was pretty great,” Sirius agreed. “I think it was really made by how hard she shoved him in the chest.” He turned to face James, “I thought you were going to end up in the cauldron.”
“It really was great,” James sighed with a dopey look on his face. “Oh, Evans, light of my life, fire in my heart. I’d swim in the lake under the moonlight with her.”
“You should suggest that,” Remus said. “In public. So we can all hear her answer.” He grinned at Sirius as they watched James’s mind turn over how he could ask Lily if she wanted to go for a midnight swim and very carefully didn’t examine what the funny tumbling sensation in his stomach at the sight of Sirius’s smile might mean. It wasn’t, he thought, as if he didn’t have some idea, it just felt like it might not be a good idea and much as being at home was more boring than being at school, it might be a bit of a relief from seeing Sirius and feeling the funny tumbling sensation all the time.
“Do you think she’d agree?” James asked. He had a jumper in his hands, holding it as if he’d forgotten what on earth it was and what it might be for.
“No, James, I don’t.” Remus rolled his eyes. “This is Lily Evans we’re talking about, right? The girl who nearly pushed you into a cauldron of half-brewed Dissolving Draught? Who has told you repeatedly that she doesn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with you and who, memorably, told you at dinner last night that she’d rather drink arsenic than spend five minutes with you?”
James pouted, “I’m sure she didn’t really mean it.”
“Okay,” Remus said flatly. “It’s getting a bit creepy, to be honest, the way you follow her around. I think it’s called stalking.” He summoned his trunk from under the bed and took the jumper from James. “That’s mine, and I asked you if you had it. Mum’d kill me if I didn’t bring it home.”
“I took it the other week because it looked soft,” James said.
“Oh, well, why not steal it then?” Remus laughed. “Look, James,” he said more seriously, “you really do need to calm it a bit where Lily is concerned. I know you like her but I think she’s one invitation to Hogsmeade away from going to Dumbledore about it.”
Sirius nodded in agreement. “Remus is right. You’re about fifty acres away from charming and well into seeming like you’d fit right in with the gallery of lechers at Grimmauld Place.”
James looked unconvinced which was about what Remus had expected. Not only would Christmas be a nice break from the funny tumbling feelings about Sirius it would also be a nice rest from James and his endless stupid attempts to get Lily to notice him. Frankly, Remus thought, he hoped Lily did push James in the lake at some point just to teach him a lesson.
There was a knock at the door before Caradoc poked his head round. “Five minutes until your trunks need to be outside the door, chaps,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t want to miss the train!”
“No, wouldn’t want that,” Sirius muttered under his breath. He slouched into himself on the trunk, as if he could pull himself into thin air.
“Cheers, Caradoc,” Remus said. “We’ll be ready.” Caradoc nodded and shut the door, whistling as he went down the corridor.
They shoved their trunks out into the corridor and headed down towards the carriages. Remus shoved down the bump of excitement he felt about going home. He always tried to hide how much he was looking forward to it; it seemed mean to be obviously excited in the face of Sirius’s misery. But he was looking forward to seeing his parents, and eating his mum’s roast chicken, and reading in front of the fire in their small sitting room. He knew James and Peter were looking forward to going home as well.
If he thought there was any chance it would have gone well he’d have invited Sirius to spend Christmas with him but the idea of Sirius and his cut glass accent and pureblood manners, which seemed to get dragged up from the soles of his feet when parents were around, in the Lupin’s small cottage was laughable. And Sirius’s parents would never have let him come anyway. If they wouldn’t let him spend the holidays with the eminently respectable, if not quite members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Potters, they’d never let him spend them with the Lupins. Let alone spend them in Mytholmroyd.
It was a rainy evening in London when the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. Sirius dragged a cloak from the luggage rack, and pulled it on resentfully. It was midnight black with silver embroidery and Remus knew that the crest of the House of Black was embroidered on the inside of the left breast. Sirius hid it mostly, but Remus had seen him pull it out from the bottom of the trunk and curl up in bed in it occasionally.
Regulus knocked on the door of the carriage and Sirius kicked it open. “What?” he scowled.
“Mother and father are expecting us to get off the train together,” Regulus said. His hair was slicked down and his cloak, unlike Sirius’s was completely uncreased. Remus sent a quick smoothing charm at the cloak, careful to keep it light so that Sirius didn’t notice. Regulus caught his eye and smiled imperceptibly. “They said they didn’t want to see any demonstrations of unsuitable friendship like last year,” Regulus was clearly quoting from a letter and he stepped back outside the carriage.
James ruffled Sirius’s hair and then carefully smoothed it back down. “I’ll write, and Remus will write, and Peter will write, and it’s only two weeks.”
Sirius rubbed his nose with his hand and tried to smile. “I know. And I’ll write back.” He nodded to Peter, “Have a good Christmas,” he said. “Don’t eat too many mince pies.”
“I am going to eat every mince pie my mum can bake,” Peter promised.
Remus knocked his shoulder into Sirius’s and then had the breath knocked out of him by the force of the hug that Sirius pulled him into. “I know owls take a while to reach Mytholmroyd, but I’ll write,” Sirius promised.
Remus leaned back slightly so he could see Sirius and nodded. “They don’t like leaving the north much either, but I’ll write too.” The funny tumbling sensation was back and getting stronger and he was more grateful than he’d admit when Regulus knocked on the carriage door. “Go on, you don’t want to keep Regulus, or your parents, waiting.”
Sirius and Regulus stepped off the train together, looking nearly identical from the back as they walked across the platform. Just like last year their parents were standing off to the side, backs straight as ramrods, and faces severe. As Remus, James and Peter made their way over to their parents, the Black family stepped smartly through the wall, two house-elves scurrying after with the trunks.
Remus silently packed his trunk, trying not to listen to James and Sirius talking about their exciting plans for Christmas. Peter had packed earlier and disappeared from their room, with a vague excuse about having to go and help Marlene with something. He felt, and was annoyed at himself for it, faintly guilty for the air of tension which kept sending Peter scurrying off. He kept reminding himself that it wasn’t actually his fault that everything was fucked up, and that all the blame for that was squarely on Sirius. It had been months, including the long summer holiday away from Hogwarts and the reminders of how close he’d been to doing something unforgivable thanks to the actions of others, and somehow time wasn’t doing its job. Dumbledore had badgered him when they’d returned for sixth year, twinkling kindly at him, and spouting truisms about the power of friendship and the power of the human heart to forgive. Remus had smiled, tamping down the snarl he wanted to let loose, and promised to consider it. He’d tried, but just as they were relaxing into something approaching the easy friendships they’d always had, he would be back there, reeling at the knowledge of what Sirius had done, and what that must mean he thought of Remus.
The part of him which still, despite everything, felt tumbly when he thought about Sirius, was naggingly pleased that this year Sirius wasn’t approaching Christmas like a man about to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Regulus had cornered him after Arithmancy a few weeks ago, asking him to try and convince Sirius not to go to the Potters for Christmas, but to go to Grimmauld. Remus had laughed, harshly and asked Regulus why the fuck he thought Remus cared where Sirius spent Christmas. Regulus had looked at him like he couldn’t believe how much of an idiot Remus thought he was. “I don’t know why you aren’t talking to him, but I know you care about him. He’s not helping anything by refusing to go home for the holidays, and you know it.”
Regulus was looking somehow stretched these, Remus thought. As if the weight of being the scion of the House of Black had descended abruptly on his shoulders when he’d never expected it to.
“I might not be talking to Sirius right now,” Remus had said, sitting down next to Regulus on the courtyard wall, “but I would never try to convince him to spend Christmas with your parents.”
Regulus had stood up, spitting out a “fuck you, Lupin” before stalking off inside. Remus watched him disappear inside the castle and had felt a wave of intense sorrow sweep through him for Regulus and the holiday he was about to have. He’d never given that much thought to Regulus, happy to believe Sirius’s assessment of his little brother, to see the undercurrent of fierce protective love that Sirius had for him, and to assume he was mostly an annoying little brother, a bit too much like his parents, and not entirely to be blamed for that. In the aftermath of Sirius fucking up so massively, Remus found he was reassessing things. He’d always known there was a cruel streak running through Sirius, but he’d never acknowledged how close to the surface it was. Had never wanted to know. He was happy for Sirius, not having to spend Christmas in a house he hated with parents he hated and who seemed to hate him, but he wondered if Sirius had given a second’s thought to how bad it was going to be for Regulus. It seemed unlikely; Sirius wasn’t prone to being considerate. Even, maybe especially, to Regulus.
Remus finished packing and flicked his wand, sending his trunk towards the door so it would be ready for the house elves. He stood and grabbed his cloak. “I’ll see you on the train,” he said shortly to James and Sirius.
“Off to see Gideon?” Sirius asked snottily.
Remus felt a mean thrill go through him at that, pleased that Sirius was pissed off that Remus had other friends, that he’d noticed that maybe Remus could be friends with other people and that he wasn’t just a monster to be used to scare people. “Might be,” he said, and smiled to himself at Sirius’s muttered “what the fuck?” as he closed the door.
Remus sleepily leaned back in his seat, trying to fight against the soporific effect of the train’s movement. “It’s strange, I’ve just thought how daft it is that all of us, no matter where we live, have to take the train into London. I’m just going to have to queue to Floo most of the way back North.”
“Could just come and stay at mine,” Sirius offered lazily. He had his feet stretched out right across the compartment and his head pillowed on James’s shoulder.
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Have you got any furniture yet?” he asked, and moved his ankles out of the way of Sirius’s feet. “Nah, I’m looking forward to going home.” The outside world felt sharp and dangerous and Remus could feel the last few months of school, and relative safety, disappearing in front of him. He wanted to go home, to the little cottage on the outskirts of town, to his mum’s cooking and to being fussed over.
“I don’t want to furnish in a rush,” Sirius said haughtily. Uncle Alphard had, they had all agreed when they saw it, purchased a delightful flat. He’d just simultaneously apparently failed to recognise that it was a very large flat and contained absolutely no furniture, and that seventeen year old boys with no income weren’t going to be able to get furniture. The Potters had donated a few odds and ends and Pete’s mother had offered her mother’s old sofa, but Sirius still didn’t have a bed or anything to put a drink down on. The record player was sat on the kitchen counter, and there were two unmatched chairs, and one very uncomfortable stool which had been Transfigured from a packing crate.
“And anyway,” James said to Sirius, “you won’t be at yours as it is. You’re still coming to mine, right?”
“Of course I am, wouldn’t miss Christmas with the Potters for the world!” Sirius said and ruffled James’s hair. He was aiming for insouciant, Remus thought, and it might have worked if they hadn’t all seen his beaming smile when the letter formally inviting him for Christmas had arrived from Mrs Potter. James had been assuring him he was welcome for weeks, but some remnants of social niceties lurked in Sirius apparently. Remus had been relieved when the invitation arrived, he hadn’t liked the thought of Sirius spending Christmas alone. He’d been building himself up to invite Sirius to his for the holidays if Mrs Potter hadn’t invited him, no matter that he still couldn’t imagine Sirius in Mytholmroyd or interacting with his parents.
It wasn’t just that he couldn’t imagine Sirius in his house, or walking round the streets or up on the cragg, but that his parents couldn’t understand that Remus had just about forgiven Sirius. Remus knew that they felt it was an unforgivable betrayal, that they’d worked so hard to make sure Remus could go to school, and that his secret would be hidden, and to have that precarious balance nearly ruined by a mean-hearted schoolboy prank was beyond their own personal pale. It had taken Remus nearly a year, and one memorable shouting match on the Quidditch pitch, carefully cloaked in a silencing spell, to get near to forgiveness. Remus’s parents would have invited Sirius if Remus had insisted, but the tension might have matched that of Grimmauld Place. Remus felt selfish but he wanted one last cosy, small, comfortable Christmas before the end of school sent him out into the world, and into the fray that they were just on the edges of.
“I’m just saying,” James grumbled, “that this couch is the least comfortable thing in existence and I don’t understand why you won’t replace it.” He shoved the half-broken spring back down and leaned hard against it hoping it might keep it in place.
“Not made of money, remember,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. He caught Lily’s eye and grinned. She had commandeered the one comfortable chair in Sirius’s flat, and was resisting all efforts by James to prise her out of it. She might have agreed to marry him, she’d said, but there was no fucking way she was going to voluntarily sit on that lump of concrete that called itself a sofa.
Pete stretched out in front of the fire, sending a gentle incendio towards it so the flames flickered higher. The light bounced off the glass baubles on the tree, making the living room seem cosier than the high ceilings warranted. They’d spent the day dashing round, using the last of their energy, everyone back from missions they couldn’t talk about, and hoping that even the Death Eaters wanted Christmas at home.
The tree was up, and full of baubles and the Muggle fairylights that Remus and Lily had bought. Sanjit could be heard, through the wall, practising something which, with a generous ear, could be recognised as the Coventry Carol. Remus had made them turn the record player off earlier because he knew Sanjit wouldn’t practice if he could just listen to The Jam instead. Mrs Patel had made that very clear when she’d bumped into Remus in the stairwell the other week, and even he had had to admit that there were only so many times that it was realistic to expect your neighbours to listen to Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.
Sirius levered himself off the floor from where he was lying beneath the Christmas tree and wandered into the kitchen. Remus heard the window being opened and the sound of Sirius clambering on the counter to sit on the windowsill. He picked up Peter’s empty glass and followed Sirius into the kitchen, gently pushing the door shut behind him to stop the cold air from getting into the living room.
Sirius was sat on the windowsill, his feet in the sink, facing out over the street. He turned around as Remus came into the kitchen and smiled. “Happy Christmas Eve, moonshine,” he said.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Remus said, “I don’t want slippers for Christmas. I want you to stop calling me that.”
“Never,” Sirius said and handed the joint over.
Remus hoisted himself up on the counter and joined Sirius on the windowsill, taking a long drag before handing it back. “Almost looks pretty from up here,” he said.
“Devastatingly attractive, I’d say,” Sirius drawled and then had to grab Remus’s sleeve to stop him falling off the ledge as he hooted with laughter after having turned round to see Sirius looking at him. “Charming,” Sirius said.
“You sounded like Bertie Wooster might if he was trying to seduce someone, and it was a bit weird,” Remus said once he’d stopped laughing. “Not that I mind, you understand, it was just somewhat jarring.”
Sirius leaned in and kissed him quickly. “How quickly do you think we can get that lot out of the flat?”
Remus looked at his watch. “Well, it’s nearly time for Pete to leave or he’ll miss his Floo appointment.”
“Might just shove Jamie out of the door at the same time,’ Sirius said. “I’m sure Lily’d follow him.”
Remus grinned and swung himself down from the windowsill. He held his hand out to Sirius to help him down, and yanked the window closed. When they went back into the living room James was handing Lily her coat, and Peter had disappeared behind a massive scarf.
“Sorry,” Peter said, “but I’ve got to go. If I miss this Floo appointment mum’ll kill me.”
James pulled Sirius in for a hug. “We’re just going because we figure you and Remus want to start the Christmas celebrations early. Lil was all for staying just to make you annoyed but no, I said, we need to be the better people! Rise above the japes and temptations!”
Sirius laughed, the sound bouncing around the room and ruffled James’s hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Happy Christmas, Prongs,” he said.
Lily rolled her eyes and kissed both of them on the cheek. “Happy Christmas you two,” she said, tucking her hands into her coat pockets and opening the door.
“Happy Christmas,” Remus and Sirius chorused as James, Lily and Peter went through the door. Remus locked it behind them and flicked his wand at the fire to calm it down a bit. He went to stand in front of Sirius, leaning in close to kiss him, and a shiver went up his spine as Sirius’s hands found their way into his hair, tugging slightly.
Sirius leaned back, looking down slightly at Remus, one hand in his hair and another sliding down to cup his arse. “Happy Christmas.”
Remus groaned quietly as Sirius fondled his arse and then pulled away, heading for the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, looking over his shoulder, and smiled as Sirius pushed him up against the doorframe, kissing him firmly. The world, he thought, was big and scary and he had no money and there were Death Eaters everywhere, but their flat was warm and bright, and Sirius was there, and tomorrow they’d get up and eat breakfast and open presents, and everything would be still for one day.
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Date: 2018-12-03 05:00 pm (UTC)“Happy Christmas Eve, moonshine,” he said.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Remus said, “I don’t want slippers for Christmas. I want you to stop calling me that.”
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Date: 2018-12-05 06:58 pm (UTC)I just figure that the nickname would get to wearing after a while!
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Date: 2018-12-03 05:06 pm (UTC)Your prose is so lovely and captivating, and I adored every snippet, every little detail that made the story very real.
Remus' inner voice is quite perfect, his kindness and tact - even when he was still mad - and humour: just perfect.
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Date: 2018-12-05 06:59 pm (UTC)I always have a ton of fun writing Remus, and it was a lot of fun to go back and think about him through his school years. Thank you for the great prompts!
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Date: 2018-12-03 06:30 pm (UTC)Also I really like Remus's character in this- the quick fire lies, winding Sirius up about Gideon, sneaking smoothing charms- perfect little touches!
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Date: 2018-12-05 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-03 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-05 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-04 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-05 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-04 04:58 pm (UTC)And then Regulus throwing himself at Sirius! I do adore when they’re actually brothers, not estranged from birth. That made me smile at the same time I felt bad for Sirius. At least he still has someone on his side.
And then fifth year Christmas when they’re all just a little bit closer, and they can tease as well as worry. I love how Remus distracted everyone by poking fun at James being infatuated with Lily. Not to mention that Remus is starting to look at Sirius differently. It’s a sweet little moment, that worry being lightened up because they’re still all together for now, and that’s how they’re best.
But this:
the idea of Sirius and his cut glass accent and pureblood manners, which seemed to get dragged up from the soles of his feet when parents were around
What an amazing description of Sirius! Just lovely, if a bit heartbreaking, to know that he can’t completely let go of his upbringing, even if it is the parts that don’t really hurt anyone. It’s one more tie that he has to face in himself. And the fact that Remus is paying attention to that says a lot.
Oh god, wait, then we go on to the Prank??? I was NOT prepared for this part at all! I love your take, though, with Dumbledore trying to convince Remus to let it go. He always was a bit batty, and trying to force feelings on, or out of, someone is just proof of that.
But then that scene with Regulus! Oh wow, that hurt. To see Sirius in that light, and honestly, at that point in time Remus at least could see it, was hard to read. And the way Regulus wants Sirius home. Of course, he comes across just as unthinking as Sirius about it, wanting Sirius there for his own sake, not for what would be good for Sirius. They’re both showing a little bit of those Black family values, whether they see it or not. But I kind of want to hug them BOTH. And always Remus at this point in canon. So lovely job here, even if it was hard to read.
Okay, the train ride seventh year is sort of amazing. Firstly, Remus is right! Why are they all required to take the train no matter where they’re going??? I never thought about that, but that’s a very strange thought. Oh, but the discussions of Sirius’ flat, his lack of furniture, his freedom, the edges of the war just slicing their way into their lives and influencing their decisions and lives, but not fully intruding yet. Just lurking, waiting for them to be released into the world to pounce. It’s such a heavy moment tinged with the levity that only good friends can bring to such situations. It reads so solidly true.
And then you go and give us that ending? Really? All happy and sweet and all the terrifying stuff pushed aside for a day, a moment, just so they can all be happy? What a perfect ending for this! Now, I’m just going to pretend that it ended there, and none of the bad stuff ever actually happened. Amazing job!
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Date: 2018-12-05 07:04 pm (UTC)I know Regulus grows up to be awful but I have such a weird little fondness for the idea of him as a kid, and I just feel sorry for him! His brother leaves and he's left with his parents, and then everything is so tense, and he doesn't get to be friends with people like James and Remus and Lily, and ... *hands*
The train thing has been bothering me for years! And okay, some of it might be that I am from the North of England and am easily irked about the London-centricity of everything but it also makes NO SENSE. Why do kids who live in Manchester have to go alllllll the way to London to then go allllll the way back again? Why?!
I largely refuse to write anything for Small Gifts which doesn't have some glimmer of light and fun in the end of it. Life (and their lives!) is hard enough as it is!
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Date: 2018-12-04 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-05 07:04 pm (UTC)I had a lot of fun writing Remus and his changing perspective on Sirius so I'm really glad that that view of Sirius worked.
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Date: 2018-12-11 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-03 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-12 05:10 pm (UTC)The second Christmas and showing the developing feelings for both Remus and James-I liked how there was that contrast.James being so outspoken and Remus not doing so because things are more complicated for him.James,stoooop!You make me laugh but also,dude's ridiculous!Remus' reaction to James' ideas were hilarious.
Damn,the after effects of the prank,good take on that and Remus' reaction-absolutely loved him and his conversation with Regulus too,his thoughts on the relationship between the brothers.And of course,making Sirius annoyed was the best!
The last Christmas was seriously so heart-warming.I love how positive young Remus is,aaahhh,my heart!I love love love Sirius trying to be all charming,lol,and failing but it's just so cute! <3
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Date: 2019-01-03 04:13 pm (UTC)I agonised over that first Christmas - I don't spend any time with eleven year olds so I had no idea if they sounded right!
I love Sirius Black trying to be charming but actually being a complete failboat so it's lovely that he works like that for people who are not me!
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Date: 2018-12-17 09:04 pm (UTC)Love it!
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Date: 2019-01-03 04:13 pm (UTC)Sirius's string of terrible Christmases breaks my heart so it's always nice to give him a good Christmas to remember!
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Date: 2018-12-30 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-03 04:13 pm (UTC)