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small_giftsTitle: I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus
Author: dear_tiger
Written for: captainpookey
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Prompt: #3, stuck in a strange place
Summary: Sirius and Remus try to pull a Christmas prank on James
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: none
Perched on the edge of James Potter's roof, Sirius Black was levitating Santa Claus up to join him. Santa, his boot-clad feet dangling helplessly in the air, was giving him looks of severe distrust, and Sirius was doing his best not to burst out laughing at his expression since that would make him loose his grip on the spell.
“Do be careful,” Santa begged.
The red boot hit the edge of the roof.
“Sorry, mate,” said Sirius and correcting his aim, lowered growling Santa onto the snow-sprinkled tiles next to himself.
“I'm slightly uncomfortable with that,” Santa admitted upon landing.
“Have I ever dropped you?” Sirius gave him his best winning grin. “Alright, my arse is freezing, come help us out here.” He outstretched his hand and wriggled his fingers. Father Christmas grabbed it and helped him up, taking care that neither of them slips.
Potters' house sat on the top of a hill over a small village of Godrick's Hollow. Sirius and Santa stood on the slippery roof and looked over the streets spread out underneath their feet.
"I can't tell which ones are Muggle," Sirius complained.
"Really," Santa agreed, his voice muffled by the gigantic fake beard. "Their lights are just as good as fairy lights from up here."
"I feel outmatched and outsmarted."
"Indeed."
They contemplated this for a while in silence. Sirius was the first to give up and carefully walk over to the brick chimney, followed closely by Santa. There was no smoke, and they made sure that the house was empty before coming up here, but Sirius peered down the chimney just the same, because he felt like doing it. It was cold inside, and it smelled of ashes.
Santa Claus sat on the chimney and produced a paper bag from his pocket, from which he scooped a handful of fireplace ashes and started rubbing them all over the sole and sides of his right boot. Sirius silently took the bag from him, lowered himself onto the roof and proceeded to smudge the ashes over the other boot.
We are quite a team, Sirius mused.
Santa sneezed and lowered his beard, revealing Remus Lupin's slightly flushed face. He went to rub his nose, forgetting that was the same hand he used to smudge soot, and was left with Indian war patterns on his lip, nose and cheek.
"I dumped Amelia this evening," he said.
Sirius stopped what he was doing and looked at him incredulously.
"When did you even have time?"
"While you were in the shower," Remus shrugged. "I forgot I was supposed to meet her today, and we've already planned to do this. So I flooed here and broke up with her."
Sirius stared at him, shook his head and went back to destroying the boot's presentable appearance. "I can't believe you. While I was soaping my head, you dumped Amelia through the fireplace and then sat down to eat waffles. On Christmas Eve of all days."
Remus looked deeply ashamed.
"The full moon is in three days. She wanted me to stay the entire holidays."
"Of course she did. Up you go."
Remus pulled his legs up and stood on the chimney.
"Say, why do I have to do this in a full suit?"
"For the proper holiday spirit, of course. Now put you beard up."
The idea, in the true Marauders spirit, was simple and brilliant. It occurred to Sirius one fine morning after James had spend a whole week moaning in his and Remus' kitchen about going to Lily's parents for Christmas where there awaited Lily's sister with a new-acquired git of a husband, a holiday dinner, sleep over and a gift exchange ceremony in the morning. The looming prospect of socializing with the Dursleys was making James extremely uncomfortable and twitchy. He moaned and groaned to Sirius, Remus and Peter whenever Lily wasn't around until finally his complaining pushed Sirius to think of a way to give him a good laugh and a bit of distraction on Christmas morning, just in case the whole affair turned into a disaster.
The honor of performing as Santa Claus was forced upon Remus who was the skinniest of them.
"Ready?" Sirius asked. He passed the remaining soot to Remus. "For your arse. Leave a nice big print right on the living room window. I'll drop the presents right after you, so get out of the way." He took out a wand, picked up Remus - who squeaked a little - with a levitating charm and started lowering him down the chimney.
Lets show them Christmas spirit, Sirius said to Remus and Peter who were sitting on the sofa in front of him. Lots of footprints, and stuff their socks with charcoal. The real gifts too, of course, but that's beside the point.
And a big arse print on the window, Peter contributed.
And drink their milk and take a bite off the pudding, said Remus.
Lily will flip, Sirius laughed. It'll be brilliant!
Remus suddenly yelped, bringing him back to reality. Sirius almost dropped him altogether.
"Oh fuck!"
"What?"
Remus was, at this point, in almost entirely, and only his head was still sticking out.
"The paranoid wanker!"
"What is it?"
"There is a fucking binding curse down here!" Remus roared. "I'm stuck! Can't move below the neck."
Sirius lowered his wand and probed Remus' shoulder, trying to push him in.
"Bloody hell. Prongs is paranoid. What does he thinks, Death Eaters are going to drop down his chimney?"
"Well, we thought of it," Remus pointed out.
Sirius tried the curse. It didn't even flinch.
"Right," he said.
****
"You know, James is actually quite a blood-thirsty maniac."
"How so?" Sirius raised his head slightly. He was stretched out on his back on top of the magically heated roof, and Remus' voice sounded to him almost like it was coming from the sky.
"If I was Peter's height, I would bloody suffocate here."
"Pft!" Sirius put his head down on the roof again. It did not look like it was going to snow tonight. "A short Death Eater is simply pathetic, no point of capturing one alive. Blokes like that probably join because they are short and have tiny pricks."
"If I was Voldemort, I would choose them by the size of their pricks, really. The smaller, the meaner."
Sirius snickered.
"Speaking of which," Remus continued, "if I can't shag again because of this sodding curse, I will blame you, Pads."
"You'll be fine." Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "James is not nearly that evil. And speaking of shagging, nice one on dumping Amelia. The girl is a bloody stalker."
"She hasn't been my ex-girlfriend long enough for me to have any right to agree with you on that."
"But I know you want to." Sirius gave the chimney an affectionate pat. "I have got to warn Pete since you are still bound by your mourning rituals."
"Do not talk to me about binding right now, Padfoot."
No, positively not going to snow tonight, Sirius decided.
Amelia Sutton was a Hufflepuff in their year who James took to Hogsmead once and continued to court for another two days in the hope of inducing jealousy in Lily. However, Lily appeared so relieved that James, in a chivalrous effort, spent another miserable day in that strange affair that he considered relationship with Amelia. He would have shagged the Giant Squid or died trying if that made Lily happy.
Next year, Amelia was going out with Sirius. It was messy and stupid, and it did not last long at all.
Remus actually appeared to like her. For some time, he made Sirius sick with worry that their relationship was going to blossom and thus oblige him to be nice to his ex-girlfriend every weekend for the remainder of their lives. It lasted three months.
"Moony, you didn't even like her, did you? Amelia bloody Sutton. Why did you ever bother? You know she vowed to shag all the Marauders."
"She's alright."
"Whatever."
Sirius felt the beginning of a headache. Lifting a hand, he slowly rubbed his forehead in case that could help relieve the mounting pressure.
The sky sighed with resignation and said in a very flat voice that sounded a lot like Remus, “She could give an unbelievably good blow-job.”
Sirius choked and laughed and laughed until he started sliding off the roof and had to hold for dear life.
“No blow-job could ever compare to dropping charcoal into James’ socks,” he had to agree when he was able to speak once more.
****
Four in the morning came and went, and Sirius’ headache was in full bloom. Sitting on the edge of the chimney so close to Remus’ head he could almost feel the misty breath touch his thigh, Sirius stared out at the village spread below.
“Lovely view from up here,” he said in a flawless imitation of that voice his parents used to make small talk at Malfoys’ New Year parties. He was not certain Remus was going to get it.
“We should be feeling like kings of Godrick’s Hollow, like all the Muggle lights and fairy light belong to us. Do you?”
“Not really. Do you?”
“I feel like a prat stuck in a chimney.”
“Well,” said Sirius, his spirits slightly lifted, “you look like a Christmas story come alive, what with the beard and the red boots.”
“And you look like a story I read years ago, about a devil that landed on some woman’s chimney and stole the crescent moon.”
Sirius huffed. “This is some woman’s chimney, alright. So what did he do with it then?”
“He… put it in a sack, I think. And then I don’t remember.”
“Silly bugger. I would have put it in my trousers pocket and go intimidate that woman that smoked like a chimney.”
“That does sound like something you would do, actually.”
Sirius felt like the night was sucking the cheer out of him, like it was evaporating along with his body heat into the dark sky hovering above. He felt small pinpricks of regret and tiny feelings of misery stirred up by the expanding headache. He found himself missing the flat and the mulled wine waiting there that was meant to be shared after they return from the glorious devastation of Potters’ living room. He felt cold. And that, in Sirius’ opinion, was just not bloody on.
He pushed himself up and onto the chimney, and looked around from the new position. Remus stared up at him curiously.
Muggles! Beware, you are your Christmas lights.
Sirius knew no Christmas carols and had no desire to sing them anyway. So he yelled, hoarsely and horribly tunelessly, across the snow-covered village, “My grandma and your grandma sitting by the fire. My grandma says to your grandma, I’m gonna set you flag on fire!”
Down in the village, dogs started barking, and Remus was now howling with laughter, further disturbing the quiet. Sirius performed several careful dance moves and, feeling content, hopped down onto Potters’ roof.
“There,” he said. “Who needs their stupid lights?”
Sirius Black felt victorious. He felt like it was proper Christmas when you can stay up late and do whatever you want. Remus, he noticed, was snorting with remaining laughter and trying to blink back tears.
“There,” Sirius said again. He took the beard and dabbed at Remus’ eyes. “Otherwise, they’ll freeze and your face will fall off.”
He lowered the beard and saw Remus grinning at him, and there was melted snow on his cheek and a pale thin scar underneath his bottom lip – a diagonal line that touched the edge of the lip and distorted it ever so slightly. You could only see if you looked very closely, really. That scar has been making Sirius’ eyes itch throughout the years. It was irritating and strangely fascinating in the way that only facial scars and moles can be.
So Sirius pulled the beard even lower, onto Remus’ neck, reached over and bit that lip.
Which was really quite close to a kiss, he realized as he met Remus’ shocked gaze.
“Mmff!” said Remus.
Indeed, thought Sirius. The lip between his felt moist and a little cold, and he could touch it with his tongue if he wanted to.
Sirius carefully let go with his teeth and started to pull back, but before he broke the contact he thought he felt a shift and a light resemblance of a real kiss on his upper lip.
“So,” Sirius said, his whole body beginning to shake from things that had nothing to do with the cold, “do you think we should at least sing something rude and scandalous when Prongs and Lily come back?”
“Fuck yes,” said Remus whose ears were turning a little red to match the cap.
****
It was not so bad, all things considered. The sister even brought potato salad and seemed somewhat pleased with James’ praise. And maybe the husband – what’s his name? – did talk about drills throughout the dinner and at breakfast the next day, but hey, a man must have a passion.
Lily pocked him in the ribs.
“James, there is something stuck down the chimney.”
He stopped and squinted, trying to protect his eyes from the sun reflecting off the snow.
“Looks like a Santa Claus.”
“And there seems to be a giant overgrown bat snoozing on the roof next to it.”
“Oh that,” grinned James. “I know that bat.”
“Should we get them down?”
On the first day of Christmas, James thought, my true love gave to me a chance to wreck dreadful revenge on my best bat for the year of 1975 marked by the necessity to prance about in purple underwear.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.”
Author: dear_tiger
Written for: captainpookey
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Prompt: #3, stuck in a strange place
Summary: Sirius and Remus try to pull a Christmas prank on James
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: none
Perched on the edge of James Potter's roof, Sirius Black was levitating Santa Claus up to join him. Santa, his boot-clad feet dangling helplessly in the air, was giving him looks of severe distrust, and Sirius was doing his best not to burst out laughing at his expression since that would make him loose his grip on the spell.
“Do be careful,” Santa begged.
The red boot hit the edge of the roof.
“Sorry, mate,” said Sirius and correcting his aim, lowered growling Santa onto the snow-sprinkled tiles next to himself.
“I'm slightly uncomfortable with that,” Santa admitted upon landing.
“Have I ever dropped you?” Sirius gave him his best winning grin. “Alright, my arse is freezing, come help us out here.” He outstretched his hand and wriggled his fingers. Father Christmas grabbed it and helped him up, taking care that neither of them slips.
Potters' house sat on the top of a hill over a small village of Godrick's Hollow. Sirius and Santa stood on the slippery roof and looked over the streets spread out underneath their feet.
"I can't tell which ones are Muggle," Sirius complained.
"Really," Santa agreed, his voice muffled by the gigantic fake beard. "Their lights are just as good as fairy lights from up here."
"I feel outmatched and outsmarted."
"Indeed."
They contemplated this for a while in silence. Sirius was the first to give up and carefully walk over to the brick chimney, followed closely by Santa. There was no smoke, and they made sure that the house was empty before coming up here, but Sirius peered down the chimney just the same, because he felt like doing it. It was cold inside, and it smelled of ashes.
Santa Claus sat on the chimney and produced a paper bag from his pocket, from which he scooped a handful of fireplace ashes and started rubbing them all over the sole and sides of his right boot. Sirius silently took the bag from him, lowered himself onto the roof and proceeded to smudge the ashes over the other boot.
We are quite a team, Sirius mused.
Santa sneezed and lowered his beard, revealing Remus Lupin's slightly flushed face. He went to rub his nose, forgetting that was the same hand he used to smudge soot, and was left with Indian war patterns on his lip, nose and cheek.
"I dumped Amelia this evening," he said.
Sirius stopped what he was doing and looked at him incredulously.
"When did you even have time?"
"While you were in the shower," Remus shrugged. "I forgot I was supposed to meet her today, and we've already planned to do this. So I flooed here and broke up with her."
Sirius stared at him, shook his head and went back to destroying the boot's presentable appearance. "I can't believe you. While I was soaping my head, you dumped Amelia through the fireplace and then sat down to eat waffles. On Christmas Eve of all days."
Remus looked deeply ashamed.
"The full moon is in three days. She wanted me to stay the entire holidays."
"Of course she did. Up you go."
Remus pulled his legs up and stood on the chimney.
"Say, why do I have to do this in a full suit?"
"For the proper holiday spirit, of course. Now put you beard up."
The idea, in the true Marauders spirit, was simple and brilliant. It occurred to Sirius one fine morning after James had spend a whole week moaning in his and Remus' kitchen about going to Lily's parents for Christmas where there awaited Lily's sister with a new-acquired git of a husband, a holiday dinner, sleep over and a gift exchange ceremony in the morning. The looming prospect of socializing with the Dursleys was making James extremely uncomfortable and twitchy. He moaned and groaned to Sirius, Remus and Peter whenever Lily wasn't around until finally his complaining pushed Sirius to think of a way to give him a good laugh and a bit of distraction on Christmas morning, just in case the whole affair turned into a disaster.
The honor of performing as Santa Claus was forced upon Remus who was the skinniest of them.
"Ready?" Sirius asked. He passed the remaining soot to Remus. "For your arse. Leave a nice big print right on the living room window. I'll drop the presents right after you, so get out of the way." He took out a wand, picked up Remus - who squeaked a little - with a levitating charm and started lowering him down the chimney.
Lets show them Christmas spirit, Sirius said to Remus and Peter who were sitting on the sofa in front of him. Lots of footprints, and stuff their socks with charcoal. The real gifts too, of course, but that's beside the point.
And a big arse print on the window, Peter contributed.
And drink their milk and take a bite off the pudding, said Remus.
Lily will flip, Sirius laughed. It'll be brilliant!
Remus suddenly yelped, bringing him back to reality. Sirius almost dropped him altogether.
"Oh fuck!"
"What?"
Remus was, at this point, in almost entirely, and only his head was still sticking out.
"The paranoid wanker!"
"What is it?"
"There is a fucking binding curse down here!" Remus roared. "I'm stuck! Can't move below the neck."
Sirius lowered his wand and probed Remus' shoulder, trying to push him in.
"Bloody hell. Prongs is paranoid. What does he thinks, Death Eaters are going to drop down his chimney?"
"Well, we thought of it," Remus pointed out.
Sirius tried the curse. It didn't even flinch.
"Right," he said.
****
"You know, James is actually quite a blood-thirsty maniac."
"How so?" Sirius raised his head slightly. He was stretched out on his back on top of the magically heated roof, and Remus' voice sounded to him almost like it was coming from the sky.
"If I was Peter's height, I would bloody suffocate here."
"Pft!" Sirius put his head down on the roof again. It did not look like it was going to snow tonight. "A short Death Eater is simply pathetic, no point of capturing one alive. Blokes like that probably join because they are short and have tiny pricks."
"If I was Voldemort, I would choose them by the size of their pricks, really. The smaller, the meaner."
Sirius snickered.
"Speaking of which," Remus continued, "if I can't shag again because of this sodding curse, I will blame you, Pads."
"You'll be fine." Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "James is not nearly that evil. And speaking of shagging, nice one on dumping Amelia. The girl is a bloody stalker."
"She hasn't been my ex-girlfriend long enough for me to have any right to agree with you on that."
"But I know you want to." Sirius gave the chimney an affectionate pat. "I have got to warn Pete since you are still bound by your mourning rituals."
"Do not talk to me about binding right now, Padfoot."
No, positively not going to snow tonight, Sirius decided.
Amelia Sutton was a Hufflepuff in their year who James took to Hogsmead once and continued to court for another two days in the hope of inducing jealousy in Lily. However, Lily appeared so relieved that James, in a chivalrous effort, spent another miserable day in that strange affair that he considered relationship with Amelia. He would have shagged the Giant Squid or died trying if that made Lily happy.
Next year, Amelia was going out with Sirius. It was messy and stupid, and it did not last long at all.
Remus actually appeared to like her. For some time, he made Sirius sick with worry that their relationship was going to blossom and thus oblige him to be nice to his ex-girlfriend every weekend for the remainder of their lives. It lasted three months.
"Moony, you didn't even like her, did you? Amelia bloody Sutton. Why did you ever bother? You know she vowed to shag all the Marauders."
"She's alright."
"Whatever."
Sirius felt the beginning of a headache. Lifting a hand, he slowly rubbed his forehead in case that could help relieve the mounting pressure.
The sky sighed with resignation and said in a very flat voice that sounded a lot like Remus, “She could give an unbelievably good blow-job.”
Sirius choked and laughed and laughed until he started sliding off the roof and had to hold for dear life.
“No blow-job could ever compare to dropping charcoal into James’ socks,” he had to agree when he was able to speak once more.
****
Four in the morning came and went, and Sirius’ headache was in full bloom. Sitting on the edge of the chimney so close to Remus’ head he could almost feel the misty breath touch his thigh, Sirius stared out at the village spread below.
“Lovely view from up here,” he said in a flawless imitation of that voice his parents used to make small talk at Malfoys’ New Year parties. He was not certain Remus was going to get it.
“We should be feeling like kings of Godrick’s Hollow, like all the Muggle lights and fairy light belong to us. Do you?”
“Not really. Do you?”
“I feel like a prat stuck in a chimney.”
“Well,” said Sirius, his spirits slightly lifted, “you look like a Christmas story come alive, what with the beard and the red boots.”
“And you look like a story I read years ago, about a devil that landed on some woman’s chimney and stole the crescent moon.”
Sirius huffed. “This is some woman’s chimney, alright. So what did he do with it then?”
“He… put it in a sack, I think. And then I don’t remember.”
“Silly bugger. I would have put it in my trousers pocket and go intimidate that woman that smoked like a chimney.”
“That does sound like something you would do, actually.”
Sirius felt like the night was sucking the cheer out of him, like it was evaporating along with his body heat into the dark sky hovering above. He felt small pinpricks of regret and tiny feelings of misery stirred up by the expanding headache. He found himself missing the flat and the mulled wine waiting there that was meant to be shared after they return from the glorious devastation of Potters’ living room. He felt cold. And that, in Sirius’ opinion, was just not bloody on.
He pushed himself up and onto the chimney, and looked around from the new position. Remus stared up at him curiously.
Muggles! Beware, you are your Christmas lights.
Sirius knew no Christmas carols and had no desire to sing them anyway. So he yelled, hoarsely and horribly tunelessly, across the snow-covered village, “My grandma and your grandma sitting by the fire. My grandma says to your grandma, I’m gonna set you flag on fire!”
Down in the village, dogs started barking, and Remus was now howling with laughter, further disturbing the quiet. Sirius performed several careful dance moves and, feeling content, hopped down onto Potters’ roof.
“There,” he said. “Who needs their stupid lights?”
Sirius Black felt victorious. He felt like it was proper Christmas when you can stay up late and do whatever you want. Remus, he noticed, was snorting with remaining laughter and trying to blink back tears.
“There,” Sirius said again. He took the beard and dabbed at Remus’ eyes. “Otherwise, they’ll freeze and your face will fall off.”
He lowered the beard and saw Remus grinning at him, and there was melted snow on his cheek and a pale thin scar underneath his bottom lip – a diagonal line that touched the edge of the lip and distorted it ever so slightly. You could only see if you looked very closely, really. That scar has been making Sirius’ eyes itch throughout the years. It was irritating and strangely fascinating in the way that only facial scars and moles can be.
So Sirius pulled the beard even lower, onto Remus’ neck, reached over and bit that lip.
Which was really quite close to a kiss, he realized as he met Remus’ shocked gaze.
“Mmff!” said Remus.
Indeed, thought Sirius. The lip between his felt moist and a little cold, and he could touch it with his tongue if he wanted to.
Sirius carefully let go with his teeth and started to pull back, but before he broke the contact he thought he felt a shift and a light resemblance of a real kiss on his upper lip.
“So,” Sirius said, his whole body beginning to shake from things that had nothing to do with the cold, “do you think we should at least sing something rude and scandalous when Prongs and Lily come back?”
“Fuck yes,” said Remus whose ears were turning a little red to match the cap.
****
It was not so bad, all things considered. The sister even brought potato salad and seemed somewhat pleased with James’ praise. And maybe the husband – what’s his name? – did talk about drills throughout the dinner and at breakfast the next day, but hey, a man must have a passion.
Lily pocked him in the ribs.
“James, there is something stuck down the chimney.”
He stopped and squinted, trying to protect his eyes from the sun reflecting off the snow.
“Looks like a Santa Claus.”
“And there seems to be a giant overgrown bat snoozing on the roof next to it.”
“Oh that,” grinned James. “I know that bat.”
“Should we get them down?”
On the first day of Christmas, James thought, my true love gave to me a chance to wreck dreadful revenge on my best bat for the year of 1975 marked by the necessity to prance about in purple underwear.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.”
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