small_gifts | Fic: A Christmas Carol for peskywhistpaw

Title: A Christmas Carol
Author:

leafyaki
Written for:

peskywhistpaw
Rating: PG
Prompt: 1. caroling - ecstatic!Sirius and reluctant!Remus
Summary: Remus never did like caroling much. 1973 changed his view.
Author's notes/warnings: Many thanks to my beta,

nevermindirah! Any mistakes here is definitely my fault. Also, references made to 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens. Use of lots of carols here. Some references to Christianity, but not meant to offend! The focus is still on the boys and not so much the religion itself ((: Hope you like it,

peskywhistpaw!

1973, 10th December, Common Room

"So...Christmas is about this Jesus Christ, who saves this world?"

"Yes, Sirius. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"But why's he so special?"

"Because...well, why do you want to know?"

"All superheroes deserve to be known. Cause I'm gonna be one. Now, tell me what's so special about him."

"You're insane, do you know that?” Remus paused, and Sirius looked at him intently. “Fine, fine. He's born from Mother Mary, and he grows up doing great deeds, saving people, leading them in the way of God, and dies from evil persecution. There, happy?"

"No."

"Bugger off, Sirius. I'm freezing cold, you're taking the best seat in front of the fireplace, and I want to read my book and eat my chocolate. Now, go away."

1973, 11th December, 4th Year Boys’ Dormitory

Sirius ran in, flinging his snow-soaked body on the bed of a certain reading Marauder.

"You're wet," Remus complained without looking up from his book.

"Well observed, Sherlock," Sirius grinned. He was on a Muggle book reading spree, and now everything was about bloody Sherlock and Watson and their cool detective skills. Remus almost wanted him to talk about girls, because there was only so much that he can take of Sherlock and smug pronouncements of "Elementary, my dear Watson".

Remus sighed. He could never force Sirius to do anything. "Fine, suit yourself. I'll be sleeping on your bed tonight then."

"Why, Moony!" Sirius gasped dramatically. "I didn't know you wanted in my pants so badly! If you just told me I could do something, you know."

"Stop waggling your eyebrows, it's unbecoming. And you will be stuck in this cold, wet bed tonight. Just know that it's your own fault." Sirius pouted. He looked like a girl, Remus thought wryly. Snatching the book from Remus's grasp, Sirius squinted at the faded title. "'A Christmas Carol'? Now what's this about? It's by that Muggle, Charles Dickens, right?"

Remus snatched it back huffily, frowning at Sirius as he did so. "You know, you don't have to make a distinction between Muggle and wizard writers. They write as well as the other. Yes, it's Dickens’s. Yes, you can read it after I'm done. No, you will not steal it and keep it at your bedside table, to add to that growing pile of books that you keep for posterity’s sake."

Sirius snapped his mouth shut, glaring at Remus for pre-empting all of his questions. Remus smirked and raised his eyebrow. Sirius, knowing a lost battle when he saw one, sighed. "Alright, just tell me what it's about?"

Remus smiled briefly at this show of interest. He beckoned Sirius closer and started explaining all about Scrooge, Marley's ghost, and the Three Spirits as he dried Sirius's clothes with a wave of his wand.

1973, 16th December, 4th Year Boys’ Dormitory

"Gooooood bless ye Meeeeeeerry Hippogriffs~~~ And lalalalala~~~"

"James Potter, if you don't shut that awful trap up right now, I will personally thump you and tie you naked to that pole outside. And I’ll tell Lily so she can go take embarrassing pictures of you. Now shut up!" Sirius growled menacingly. He was clutching Remus's book close to his chest. "I only just got to Tiny Tim!"

"You know, you really can be terribly off tune,” Remus added. “I mean, didn't the Quidditch team throw you out once, towels and all, cause you sang in the shower?" Remus grinned as he mortified James further. All of the Marauders who weren’t James chuckled at the memory of him running around like a headless chicken, only in a skimpy towel, shouting and banging on the doors.

James fumed and glared at Remus. "REMUS! You, you...well, I bet you can't sing either!"

Remus smiled and denied James the pleasure of his answer. Sirius shifted his head on Remus's stomach, twirling his hair absent-mindedly as he got absorbed in the Ghost of Christmas Present sprinkling his magical thing from his torch. It was a quiet, lazy sort of afternoon, when no one wanted to go out and mess up the snow. Clothes were strewn every which way, Peter happily chewed on a sugar quill, and James eventually settled down on his bed with 'Quidditch Weekly'. Remus leaned back against the headboard and sighed, preparing to fall asleep with Sirius's comfortable weight on his stomach, with the sound of the crisp magazine pages flipped back and forth, with the chewing sounds that were much like a rodent's.

Outside, the snowflakes floated gently to the endless grounds. Inside, the four boys smiled in quiet contentment.

1973, 18th December, Great Hall

"Caroling."

"...caroling," Remus deadpanned, "is the utterly stupidest idea for a prank. How is it a prank, exactly?"

"Well," Peter piped up brightly, "James's voice is so horrible that he would deafen everyone? I'm assuming we're singing in the Slytherin dungeons, of course."

"Not you too, Peter! Thought you were my best pal! Not like Mr. Dog Star here, reading his book" ("Mine," Remus interrupted) "for the third time this week. Anyway, it's not really a prank! I just thought...it would be fun. And," he added hastily, under the incredulous stares of both Remus and Peter, "we could, I don't know...learn the proper words, as Moony here has always beseeched! Hardly anyone sings carols much here, at Hogwarts. We could liven the place up. Whaddaya say?"

Remus could only stare at him. "James, my dear friend," he began slowly, as if trying to pacify an insane man, "I think you are mistaken, if you think I'm going to teach you the proper words, and the tunes for the ones you’ve never heard before."

James beamed a million-watt smile. "My good man, you are a Marauder for a reason!" Remus's eyes shot fire at him. "Uh haha...ha?" James chuckled weakly.

"Come on, Remus!" Everyone's eyes swiveled around to Sirius, who finally put the book down and spoke. "Have some Christmas spirit! Don't be like old Scrooge! You wouldn't want to end up miserable and alone, right? Don't go 'Bah, Humbug!' on us!" Sirius smiled gently. "Please?" He touched Remus's arm softly. Looking at Sirius's eyes, Remus thought he could feel the warmth of his hand seep through the thick robes.

Later, if anybody asked him, Remus would deny resolutely that it was Sirius's eyes that did him in. He's a Marauder, a fourteen year old boy, a werewolf, for God's sake. Werewolves do not get softened by blue eyes, wide and open as the sea. He only did it to stop James's whining.

1973, 20th December, Room of Requirement

Remus touched the piano keys gently, reverently. He allowed himself to drift away from this time and space. He went long back, to a time when he could still run around free and unfettered even while under his mother’s watchful eyes. To a time when he had piano lessons, and played till the sun went down. A time before piano got too expensive, before everything got too expensive. A time when church bells beckoned and didn’t make him feel bitter.

"It's different now," he said firmly. "I have...I have them. I have...him."

The keys felt old but smooth, yellow but still producing that melodious tune that answered to the press of fingertips. Like the singing of fairies, or mermaids, in the tales of old. Each key told a different story, and Remus paid attention to them all. He sat down on the bench (creaks just like the one at home) and started the song. It took a while to get it right.

"O holy night,

The stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth..."

His fingers flowed smoothly over the keys, linking each key to its brother. His voice cracked slightly in the height of the song. Fall on your knees, he thought, eyes shining. I'm on mine already; I know what it's like. You weren't there, he thought, a little savagely. You weren't.

"...O night, divine...

O night, o night divine..."

The music stopped. A ringing silence filled the room. Remus stared at the keys, unaware that he was trembling. When two strong arms wrapped around him from behind, he didn't startle. A smell of citrus and rain flooded his senses. He always did like the rain, the comfort of water soothing his soul.

There and then, as Sirius pressed his cheek against Remus's slightly damp one, he never felt more secure.

When James and Peter burst into the room, singing warped carols, highly off tune, Remus's dry comments gave away nothing. Sirius only grinned cheekily and added his own lewd lyrics to ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’.

1973, 25th December, Great Hall

"Well, boys, this is certainly...different."

McGonagall turned disbelieving eyes on Dumbledore. "Different? You don't say."

"Ah ah ah, no sarcasm here, Minerva!" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, in a most annoying way. "We’ve never done this before, after all! And it’s high time we started! I'm sure they worked very, very hard for this. Aren't I right, boys?"

"Yes sir!" Sirius and James answered. Peter was hiding his face with his caroling file, and Remus wasn't even in view. Sirius had a firm grip on Remus’s arm and was doing his best to prevent Remus from fleeing the building. The Christmas hats on their heads glittered joyously, completely at odds with the desperate, frightened look on Remus's face.

"No, no, no. You can make me teach you, but you won't make me sing!" Remus's voice was very high now. His eyes darted from left to right, searching for the nearest escape route. Sirius only tightened his grip.

"Moony Moony Moony!! Come on come on come on!! It's fun fun fun!!" Sirius's voice was equally high pitched, though he was squealing with excitement, while Remus could find nearly nothing to be excited about. The surprisingly large number of students present for Christmas this year was waiting eagerly. Even the professors looked intrigued, though McGonagall hid it well.

"Pleeeeeeeease! I will buy you chocolates! Remus, it's Hogsmeade! Dumbles is bringing us to Hogsmeade, to sing! The Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes! Imagine singing there! People will love us!"

"No! I-"

"Too late, you're coming with us!" James shouted as he and Peter joined in dragging Remus. The whole procession then headed, mostly merrily, to Hogsmeade, where Madam Rosmerta was already waiting to host the Christmas Party that would follow the caroling.

1973, 25th December, Hogsmeade

And the people did love them.

The kids laughed and surrounded them as they sang ‘Deck the Hall’, shouting happily when the carol ended with a small burst of fireworks and Dumbledore throwing out candy, like Santa Claus. Sirius was ecstatic, completely in his element. Bouncing and jumping around, he forgot all of the lessons of being in tune and just danced with the children, laughing as they bungled the lyrics to ‘Frosty the Snowman’. Occasionally he dragged Remus in, despite Remus's bright blush and protests. James was forced into wearing a blinking nose in order to be Rudolph, and after a minute he bore it with a huge grin. Even Peter broke out of his shyness and bravely sang out ‘Winter Wonderland’, earning the crowd’s approval.

Despite, or perhaps because of the chaos, it was one of the merriest Christmas parties Hogsmeade has ever seen. Even stiff McGonagall burst out laughing when James lost his breath after ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’, and when Hagrid’s dancing accidentally knocked tiny Flitwick to the ground. The children of Hogsmeade were positively bouncy, joining the group in song and sprinkling snow over the Marauders. Still, Remus sang in only a tiny voice, reserved as ever. But he finally allowed a small grin to break onto his face when a tiny boy, no older than five, hugged him around the neck and wished him a Merry Christmas.

When they roasted marshmallows over the roaring fire outside The Three Broomsticks, Remus felt his childhood return, surely and fully.

1973, 26th December, 4th Year Boys’ Dormitory

"Remus?"

"...yes, Sirius?"

Sirius climbed into Remus’s bed carefully, under the light of the sliver of moon. Remus's eyes were glowing in the moonlight, half-lidded and hazy with fatigue.

"I...you enjoyed tonight?" Sirius asked carefully, turning to his side to face Remus. His feet touched Remus's lightly.

"...why do you ask?" Remus replied.

"I...I just, you know. I mean, you were pretty quiet. And...and I know that you don't like large crowds, and that you don't like singing in front of people, and that it was pretty cold and that you don't like the cold too, and-"

Remus put his hand over Sirius's mouth to stop the rambling. He grinned as Sirius's cheeks coloured with a tinge of pink.

"Sirius...I will admit, I didn't like the idea at first. But...but it was alright, really. I liked it, it was okay."

Sirius still looked unsure. Remus took a deep breath, and said quietly, "I like kids, you know? They’re just...so innocent, so sweet. They believe in Santa Claus. I...sometimes I do too. And they believe in God too, and I...I want to think that way, sometimes, too."

Remus let a small hush fall over them. "Did you know that these carols are meant to commemorate Christ's birth? That's where carols come from. Wizards...don't really believe in Christ that much. It's more of a Muggle religion, see. But I'm half Muggle. My mum is a Christian, and she taught me all these carols. I didn't want to sing them at first because, well, people don't take them really seriously, right? Wizards, at least.

"But…but I realized carols are meant to be fun too. I liked singing them with you all. There's..there's energy in it, and even if the meaning’s different, it feels better, somehow. It's better than the church way of singing. Singing with you all, these carols, I can see...Santa…and God again. I...I always thought he deserted me."

Remus fell silent again. Sirius watched him, eyes radiating warmth, and care, and Christmas. Remus wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. He settled for tangling his feet with Sirius’s, and looking at him silently.

When the snowflakes started to fall again and Remus started to feel the pull of sleep, Sirius snuggled in closer and whispered:

"God bless us, every one."

Remus knew then that even if he did not believe in God, he believed in Sirius. And that was more than enough.