![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
such_heights posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
small_giftsTitle: someone came and kissed me there
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
such_heights
Recipient:crooked
Rating: PG-13
Highlight for Warnings: *none *
Word Count: 2500
Summary: Three times Remus and Sirius kissed under the mistletoe, and one time they didn't need it.
Author's notes: Written for the prompt 'mistletoe', with many thanks toliseuse for the beta. Title from Walter de la Mare. Sincere apologies both to CJ and the mods for the delay in posting this! Merry Christmas, CJ. ♥
year one
The history of mistletoe at Hogwarts can be traced back as far as the Founders themselves, who would place garlands of mistletoe above the entrance to Hogwarts come winter solstice, to protect their students from harm. In more recent centuries, it came to have a different significance, becoming associated with seasonal romance. It remains unclear whether that tradition originated from Muggle or Wizarding uses of the plant, but the first recorded instance of mistletoe as a romantic aid at the school comes from the diary of a young Ravenclaw, Margaret Stebbins. In 1745 she wrote of Heather McAdams, who took advantage of the plant's convenient placement above the common room entrance to entice a kiss out of the Quidditch Captain, Capella Black. The incident caused a great deal of scandal, but the following year saw Hogwarts decorated with more mistletoe than ever before.
"You're meant to kiss under it?" James asked incredulously when Remus had finished explaining why someone had stuck a plant above the common room entrance. "Yuck."
Peter nodded his vehement agreement.
"Still, one of your ancestors makes the history books again," Remus said to Sirius, smiling, like he thought Sirius would be pleased.
Sirius gave a little half-smile in return. In truth, he wished his new friends didn't know about his family, because it felt as though it brought a whole world of expectation with it. He wasn't part of any lineage, he was just Sirius, a first year like everyone else. All the same, Capella Black did sound sort of cool.
The four of them turned to examine the mistletoe - keeping a safe distance, especially as half a dozen fifth years were in the process of shoving two of their comrades beneath it, both of whom looked thoroughly embarrassed, and then faintly revolted as they were forced to touch lips.
"Yuck," Sirius said, agreeing with James's assessment. "Come on, let's get dinner, I'm starving."
He led the way out of the common room once the commotion had cleared, Remus at his side. They were almost out when the portrait swung open in front of them and a pack of second years trooped in, trapping Sirius and Remus where they were. Which - of course, Sirius thought ruefully - was right bang under the mistletoe. Before they had the chance to escape, a chorus of shouts and laughter rose up from their surrounding housemates. Sirius looked for James, a little panicked, but James and Peter were standing well back, washing their hands of the whole affair.
"You chicken, Black?" Fabian Prewett yelled from a corner.
"Sirius," Remus muttered, "let's just--"
"What?" Sirius turned to say, but he didn't get the chance to finish the word, because Remus was tugging at his collar and kissing him.
It was awkward and brief, and accompanied by cheers that were a mix of jeering and patronising, but Sirius felt that their honour was salvaged regardless. Then he caught Remus's eye, and felt himself flushing. Remus was the one who was quiet and polite and listened in lessons and didn't get into trouble, but it'd been Remus who'd just as quietly taken up the dare from the crowd around them before Sirius had had the nerve.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" James asked as they headed towards the Great Hall, in the smug tones of someone who'd escaped unscathed.
"Shut up," said Sirius with feeling, almost too loudly to hear Remus's "not really."
Sirius glanced over at Remus, just in time to catch a quick, private, smile, and Sirius was suddenly reminded of the fact that Remus's mouth was very soft.
It hadn't been so bad. Not really.
year five
"Merlin's hairy ball sack," said Sirius, "James, you have gone far beyond sad and descended into tragic."
"Go to hell," James said cheerfully, "this is a work of staggering genius."
The 'work', as James would have it, was a monstrosity sitting on top of his head, covered in bright orange tinsel with a giant protruding rod that held a sprig of mistletoe on its end. Remus couldn't quite believe he'd been talked into helping James make it.
Peter walked into the dormitory, did a double-take, and let his mouth fall open.
"What have you done?"
James jumped over to him, grinning madly. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
"Argh, get away!" Peter squawked.
James looked disparaging. "It isn't for you, you plonker."
"Aw, that's cruel!" said Sirius. "I'd kiss you, Wormtail."
"Um," said Peter. "No thanks."
"Ouch," said Remus, amused.
"No, this is the perfect cover to share a festive smooch with the delectable Lily," said James.
Peter glanced at Remus, alarmed. Remus shrugged in resignation.
"'Delectable'?" Sirius repeated. "Really?"
"Delectable, delicious, divine…" James continued.
"Definitely about to hex you again if you carry on like that," said Sirius.
"A man can but try," James said, spirit undimmed.
"A man can but lose important anatomical parts," Remus muttered.
Sirius grinned at him, and Peter bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
James was not to be deterred, however, and soon set out in pursuit of Lily. Remus felt a twinge of guilt for not finding a way to stop him, but there was only so much he could do.
Sirius fetched a pack of the cards and the three of them sat in the dormitory, quietly amusing themselves, until they heard yelling from downstairs.
Distinctly James-like yelling.
Groaning, Remus ran down the stairs, colliding into James at the bottom. James was dejected, all of his regalia disassembled and clutched in his hands. He was also sporting little orange blobs all over his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry, mate," said Remus, and he was.
"I probably deserved it," said James, in a rare moment of self-awareness.
Remus was sure it wouldn't last. "Maybe. But live to fight another day, yeah?"
"Yeah, I suppose." He shoved the mistletoe and attached equipment into Remus's hands and traipsed up the stairs.
Remus watched his retreating back, and had to suppress a snort of laughter when he spotted the tail.
Remus hesitated in the stairwell. He could hear Lily out in the common room, still sounding righteously pissed off, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to go and listen to James's latest bout of lovelorn despair. James was allowed to tell the whole world about who he loved and how he felt, after all. Remus didn't have that luxury.
It wasn't long before he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Sirius grinned when he saw Remus.
"Peter's tending to Prongs's wounded ego, thought I'd leave them to it. Oh, what's this?" Sirius plucked the mistletoe from Remus's hands. "Got plans of your own, then?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
"Don't be like that, Moony! The girls would be lining up for a catch like you if you gave them a chance."
Sirius placed the mistletoe back in Remus's hands, and whatever retort Remus might have come up with died away. Sirius's fingertips pressing into palms, the simplest of touches, was thrilling, and it was with effort that Remus dragged his gaze up to Sirius's face again.
Sirius, for his part, kept glancing back down at the mistletoe. "So, here we are," he said, adopting a ridiculous voice, "all alone."
"Good heavens, Mr. Black, I have a reputation to uphold!" Remus answered, grinning, his voice high and airy.
There was silence then, and Remus wondered if he'd crossed some invisible line.
"Traditions ought to be upheld, though," Sirius said, mostly addressed to his own hands, still holding the mistletoe, with bits of the ridiculous orange tinsel attached.
"I suppose?" Remus said, confused.
Sirius didn't give him time for more questions, though, shoving the mistletoe back into Remus's grasp and moving forward until their mouths met. Remus felt his lips part in an unconscious sigh, as though this were the most natural thing in the world. Sirius's kiss was searching and slow, his thumb brushing lightly across Remus's cheek.
Sirius broke away and took a step back, his eyes blown wide and guileless. Remus's heart was thudding in his chest, and the fragile moment stretched out between them.
"I--" Sirius began, hoarse.
"Wait," Remus answered, and reached out to rest his hand on Sirius's arm.
Sirius stared at Remus for a moment, then lit up brighter than his namesake. He moved towards Remus again, this time crowding him right against the wall, his fingers carding through Remus's hair. Remus clung to Sirius greedily, wanting everything he could right now before his luck ran out.
Sirius kissed the way he did everything, full of a kind of reckless sincerity, and Remus was helpless to it. His hands sought Sirius's skin - the hollow of his throat, a warm strip of skin below his shirt. It was too much and not enough, all at once, his senses overloading, and Remus had no intention of letting go.
year seven
Sirius suspected he should be more drunk than he was. Certainly he was letting the side down, in James's view at any rate. Sirius didn't mind, though, he felt giddy anyway. It was the end of term, and nearly all of the seventh year had absconded to the Hog's Head. (Absconded being a relative term, as Sirius had spotted McGonagall talking to Rosmerta behind the bar, deliberately ignoring her errant students.) Essays were turned in, trunks were packed, and in the morning Sirius would be off for his second Christmas at the Potters. He felt on top of the world.
Remus slipped into the seat next to him. "Hello," he said gravely.
"You're drunk," Sirius replied.
"More ... tipsy," Remus said after a moment's consideration.
"You've gone all red."
"Well, I'm sure that's very fetching," Remus replied with a grin. "Alice certainly thinks so." He nodded towards Frank and Alice, Hogwarts's latest power couple, who were canoodling under some conveniently-placed mistletoe in a corner. Frank was looking distinctly flushed, no doubt a combination of firewhiskey, the heat of the room, and Alice's charms.
"I make no comment," said Sirius, nudging Remus.
He watched Frank and Alice for a moment, and the room at large, envious of the general tacit approval that meant they were left alone in full view of everyone.
"I wish --" he began.
"I know you do," said Remus, and slipped his hand into Sirius's under the table.
Later, much later, after the year had indulged in much wine, song, and three fights, they got ready to make their way home. James was slung between Lily and Peter, murmuring happily to himself but unable to stand. Remus was laughing and bright-eyed, and Sirius felt a warm glow that had nothing to do with the butterbeer he'd just finished.
He was about to follow the Peter-James-Lily combo out into the night when Remus grabbed his arm.
"Hold on a moment," Remus said.
Sirius frowned as he turned, then saw Remus glancing meaningfully at a sprig of mistletoe that adorned the doorway.
"Really?" Sirius asked, a little incredulously.
"Anyone who has a problem can sod off," Remus replied mildly before wrapping his arm around Sirius's neck and drawing him in for a kiss.
Sirius was so surprised that it took him a moment to respond, but then it was as though all the noise of the pub around them had faded away. All Sirius could think about was the fact that it was the holidays, Remus was right here, and he was happy.
He became faintly aware of a murdered undercurrent of whispered conversation around them, and Remus laughed against his mouth. "Merry Christmas."
"You're giving me a scandal for a present?" Sirius asked.
"Do you like it?"
Sirius pulled away to look back into the room. People were staring, Snape was open-mouthed, McGonagall looked as though she were trying not to smile.
"Oh, I do," he said. "I really do." He waved cheerily out at the crowd, took Remus's hand, and pulled him out into the night.
year one (again)
No one seemed to know who put it there, but somehow mistletoe had found its way above the kitchen door at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Arthur was delighted, telling Molly all about the synthesis of wizarding and Muggle tradition before she'd decided to enact the tradition herself, just to shut him up.
Remus caught sight of Hermione eyeing it speculatively one morning, though she blushed and darted away once she caught his eye.
It stayed there for days, causing the whole household to begin to do elaborate dances in and out of the kitchen so as not to be caught under it, especially after Bill and Fred collided in the doorway on Tuesday afternoon, causing Fred to land a noisy smooch on Bill's cheek, much to Bill's disgust. But no one took it down, and no one dared disobey tradition should fortune find them trapped beneath its leaves.
On Christmas Eve, Remus and Sirius escaped to the study, to the promise of a roaring fire and two glasses of sweet, aged port.
"Were we ever that young?" Remus asked, tilting his head towards the door, where the riotous laughter of the younger members of the extended Weasley clan could be heard.
"I seem to just about recall," Sirius answered with a grin. "Something about Christmas at the Hog's Head and six months' worth of ensuing gossip?"
"You know, I am reasonably sure that was your fault," said Remus.
"It was not! That was entirely you."
"Your bad influence, then," said Remus.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's it, lay all the blame on me - you take no responsibility for yourself, Lupin, that's your problem."
"Yes, I'm sure," Remus answered, smiling into his glass.
They sat in silence as much as they spoke, these days, and that was fine by Remus. Sirius's presence alone was both gift and company enough.
After a good, long time, the house began to grow quiet and still. Remus got to his feet and went to the door, wondering if anyone was still awake. What he saw made him pause at the doorway: Ginny and Harry, with their backs to him, standing in the hallway and talking too quietly to be overheard.
Remus felt struck once again by how young Harry was, for all that he had seen and done. It made Remus feel young, too, because looking at them made it almost seem as though it were James and Lily standing there. Something tight and bittersweet clenched in Remus's chest, and when Ginny glanced upwards toward the mistletoe that was hung above them, he pushed the door gently shut.
"Everything all right?" Sirius asked, looking up from his book.
Remus nodded. "Yes." He walked over to Sirius, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. "It's gone midnight," he said. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Sirius replied, reaching for Remus's hand, drawing it to his shoulder.
Remus reached down and pulled the book from Sirius's lap, leaning against the arm rest and moving to kiss Sirius, slowly, taking his time, luxurious in the knowledge that they had no need to be fierce or brief or rushed. Sirius murmured something indistinct against Remus's mouth, and laid his warm palms against Remus's back, the fire crackling softly in the background.
Author:
such_heightsRecipient:
crookedRating: PG-13
Highlight for Warnings: *none *
Word Count: 2500
Summary: Three times Remus and Sirius kissed under the mistletoe, and one time they didn't need it.
Author's notes: Written for the prompt 'mistletoe', with many thanks to
liseuse for the beta. Title from Walter de la Mare. Sincere apologies both to CJ and the mods for the delay in posting this! Merry Christmas, CJ. ♥year one
The history of mistletoe at Hogwarts can be traced back as far as the Founders themselves, who would place garlands of mistletoe above the entrance to Hogwarts come winter solstice, to protect their students from harm. In more recent centuries, it came to have a different significance, becoming associated with seasonal romance. It remains unclear whether that tradition originated from Muggle or Wizarding uses of the plant, but the first recorded instance of mistletoe as a romantic aid at the school comes from the diary of a young Ravenclaw, Margaret Stebbins. In 1745 she wrote of Heather McAdams, who took advantage of the plant's convenient placement above the common room entrance to entice a kiss out of the Quidditch Captain, Capella Black. The incident caused a great deal of scandal, but the following year saw Hogwarts decorated with more mistletoe than ever before.
"You're meant to kiss under it?" James asked incredulously when Remus had finished explaining why someone had stuck a plant above the common room entrance. "Yuck."
Peter nodded his vehement agreement.
"Still, one of your ancestors makes the history books again," Remus said to Sirius, smiling, like he thought Sirius would be pleased.
Sirius gave a little half-smile in return. In truth, he wished his new friends didn't know about his family, because it felt as though it brought a whole world of expectation with it. He wasn't part of any lineage, he was just Sirius, a first year like everyone else. All the same, Capella Black did sound sort of cool.
The four of them turned to examine the mistletoe - keeping a safe distance, especially as half a dozen fifth years were in the process of shoving two of their comrades beneath it, both of whom looked thoroughly embarrassed, and then faintly revolted as they were forced to touch lips.
"Yuck," Sirius said, agreeing with James's assessment. "Come on, let's get dinner, I'm starving."
He led the way out of the common room once the commotion had cleared, Remus at his side. They were almost out when the portrait swung open in front of them and a pack of second years trooped in, trapping Sirius and Remus where they were. Which - of course, Sirius thought ruefully - was right bang under the mistletoe. Before they had the chance to escape, a chorus of shouts and laughter rose up from their surrounding housemates. Sirius looked for James, a little panicked, but James and Peter were standing well back, washing their hands of the whole affair.
"You chicken, Black?" Fabian Prewett yelled from a corner.
"Sirius," Remus muttered, "let's just--"
"What?" Sirius turned to say, but he didn't get the chance to finish the word, because Remus was tugging at his collar and kissing him.
It was awkward and brief, and accompanied by cheers that were a mix of jeering and patronising, but Sirius felt that their honour was salvaged regardless. Then he caught Remus's eye, and felt himself flushing. Remus was the one who was quiet and polite and listened in lessons and didn't get into trouble, but it'd been Remus who'd just as quietly taken up the dare from the crowd around them before Sirius had had the nerve.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" James asked as they headed towards the Great Hall, in the smug tones of someone who'd escaped unscathed.
"Shut up," said Sirius with feeling, almost too loudly to hear Remus's "not really."
Sirius glanced over at Remus, just in time to catch a quick, private, smile, and Sirius was suddenly reminded of the fact that Remus's mouth was very soft.
It hadn't been so bad. Not really.
year five
"Merlin's hairy ball sack," said Sirius, "James, you have gone far beyond sad and descended into tragic."
"Go to hell," James said cheerfully, "this is a work of staggering genius."
The 'work', as James would have it, was a monstrosity sitting on top of his head, covered in bright orange tinsel with a giant protruding rod that held a sprig of mistletoe on its end. Remus couldn't quite believe he'd been talked into helping James make it.
Peter walked into the dormitory, did a double-take, and let his mouth fall open.
"What have you done?"
James jumped over to him, grinning madly. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
"Argh, get away!" Peter squawked.
James looked disparaging. "It isn't for you, you plonker."
"Aw, that's cruel!" said Sirius. "I'd kiss you, Wormtail."
"Um," said Peter. "No thanks."
"Ouch," said Remus, amused.
"No, this is the perfect cover to share a festive smooch with the delectable Lily," said James.
Peter glanced at Remus, alarmed. Remus shrugged in resignation.
"'Delectable'?" Sirius repeated. "Really?"
"Delectable, delicious, divine…" James continued.
"Definitely about to hex you again if you carry on like that," said Sirius.
"A man can but try," James said, spirit undimmed.
"A man can but lose important anatomical parts," Remus muttered.
Sirius grinned at him, and Peter bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
James was not to be deterred, however, and soon set out in pursuit of Lily. Remus felt a twinge of guilt for not finding a way to stop him, but there was only so much he could do.
Sirius fetched a pack of the cards and the three of them sat in the dormitory, quietly amusing themselves, until they heard yelling from downstairs.
Distinctly James-like yelling.
Groaning, Remus ran down the stairs, colliding into James at the bottom. James was dejected, all of his regalia disassembled and clutched in his hands. He was also sporting little orange blobs all over his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry, mate," said Remus, and he was.
"I probably deserved it," said James, in a rare moment of self-awareness.
Remus was sure it wouldn't last. "Maybe. But live to fight another day, yeah?"
"Yeah, I suppose." He shoved the mistletoe and attached equipment into Remus's hands and traipsed up the stairs.
Remus watched his retreating back, and had to suppress a snort of laughter when he spotted the tail.
Remus hesitated in the stairwell. He could hear Lily out in the common room, still sounding righteously pissed off, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to go and listen to James's latest bout of lovelorn despair. James was allowed to tell the whole world about who he loved and how he felt, after all. Remus didn't have that luxury.
It wasn't long before he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Sirius grinned when he saw Remus.
"Peter's tending to Prongs's wounded ego, thought I'd leave them to it. Oh, what's this?" Sirius plucked the mistletoe from Remus's hands. "Got plans of your own, then?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
"Don't be like that, Moony! The girls would be lining up for a catch like you if you gave them a chance."
Sirius placed the mistletoe back in Remus's hands, and whatever retort Remus might have come up with died away. Sirius's fingertips pressing into palms, the simplest of touches, was thrilling, and it was with effort that Remus dragged his gaze up to Sirius's face again.
Sirius, for his part, kept glancing back down at the mistletoe. "So, here we are," he said, adopting a ridiculous voice, "all alone."
"Good heavens, Mr. Black, I have a reputation to uphold!" Remus answered, grinning, his voice high and airy.
There was silence then, and Remus wondered if he'd crossed some invisible line.
"Traditions ought to be upheld, though," Sirius said, mostly addressed to his own hands, still holding the mistletoe, with bits of the ridiculous orange tinsel attached.
"I suppose?" Remus said, confused.
Sirius didn't give him time for more questions, though, shoving the mistletoe back into Remus's grasp and moving forward until their mouths met. Remus felt his lips part in an unconscious sigh, as though this were the most natural thing in the world. Sirius's kiss was searching and slow, his thumb brushing lightly across Remus's cheek.
Sirius broke away and took a step back, his eyes blown wide and guileless. Remus's heart was thudding in his chest, and the fragile moment stretched out between them.
"I--" Sirius began, hoarse.
"Wait," Remus answered, and reached out to rest his hand on Sirius's arm.
Sirius stared at Remus for a moment, then lit up brighter than his namesake. He moved towards Remus again, this time crowding him right against the wall, his fingers carding through Remus's hair. Remus clung to Sirius greedily, wanting everything he could right now before his luck ran out.
Sirius kissed the way he did everything, full of a kind of reckless sincerity, and Remus was helpless to it. His hands sought Sirius's skin - the hollow of his throat, a warm strip of skin below his shirt. It was too much and not enough, all at once, his senses overloading, and Remus had no intention of letting go.
year seven
Sirius suspected he should be more drunk than he was. Certainly he was letting the side down, in James's view at any rate. Sirius didn't mind, though, he felt giddy anyway. It was the end of term, and nearly all of the seventh year had absconded to the Hog's Head. (Absconded being a relative term, as Sirius had spotted McGonagall talking to Rosmerta behind the bar, deliberately ignoring her errant students.) Essays were turned in, trunks were packed, and in the morning Sirius would be off for his second Christmas at the Potters. He felt on top of the world.
Remus slipped into the seat next to him. "Hello," he said gravely.
"You're drunk," Sirius replied.
"More ... tipsy," Remus said after a moment's consideration.
"You've gone all red."
"Well, I'm sure that's very fetching," Remus replied with a grin. "Alice certainly thinks so." He nodded towards Frank and Alice, Hogwarts's latest power couple, who were canoodling under some conveniently-placed mistletoe in a corner. Frank was looking distinctly flushed, no doubt a combination of firewhiskey, the heat of the room, and Alice's charms.
"I make no comment," said Sirius, nudging Remus.
He watched Frank and Alice for a moment, and the room at large, envious of the general tacit approval that meant they were left alone in full view of everyone.
"I wish --" he began.
"I know you do," said Remus, and slipped his hand into Sirius's under the table.
Later, much later, after the year had indulged in much wine, song, and three fights, they got ready to make their way home. James was slung between Lily and Peter, murmuring happily to himself but unable to stand. Remus was laughing and bright-eyed, and Sirius felt a warm glow that had nothing to do with the butterbeer he'd just finished.
He was about to follow the Peter-James-Lily combo out into the night when Remus grabbed his arm.
"Hold on a moment," Remus said.
Sirius frowned as he turned, then saw Remus glancing meaningfully at a sprig of mistletoe that adorned the doorway.
"Really?" Sirius asked, a little incredulously.
"Anyone who has a problem can sod off," Remus replied mildly before wrapping his arm around Sirius's neck and drawing him in for a kiss.
Sirius was so surprised that it took him a moment to respond, but then it was as though all the noise of the pub around them had faded away. All Sirius could think about was the fact that it was the holidays, Remus was right here, and he was happy.
He became faintly aware of a murdered undercurrent of whispered conversation around them, and Remus laughed against his mouth. "Merry Christmas."
"You're giving me a scandal for a present?" Sirius asked.
"Do you like it?"
Sirius pulled away to look back into the room. People were staring, Snape was open-mouthed, McGonagall looked as though she were trying not to smile.
"Oh, I do," he said. "I really do." He waved cheerily out at the crowd, took Remus's hand, and pulled him out into the night.
year one (again)
No one seemed to know who put it there, but somehow mistletoe had found its way above the kitchen door at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Arthur was delighted, telling Molly all about the synthesis of wizarding and Muggle tradition before she'd decided to enact the tradition herself, just to shut him up.
Remus caught sight of Hermione eyeing it speculatively one morning, though she blushed and darted away once she caught his eye.
It stayed there for days, causing the whole household to begin to do elaborate dances in and out of the kitchen so as not to be caught under it, especially after Bill and Fred collided in the doorway on Tuesday afternoon, causing Fred to land a noisy smooch on Bill's cheek, much to Bill's disgust. But no one took it down, and no one dared disobey tradition should fortune find them trapped beneath its leaves.
On Christmas Eve, Remus and Sirius escaped to the study, to the promise of a roaring fire and two glasses of sweet, aged port.
"Were we ever that young?" Remus asked, tilting his head towards the door, where the riotous laughter of the younger members of the extended Weasley clan could be heard.
"I seem to just about recall," Sirius answered with a grin. "Something about Christmas at the Hog's Head and six months' worth of ensuing gossip?"
"You know, I am reasonably sure that was your fault," said Remus.
"It was not! That was entirely you."
"Your bad influence, then," said Remus.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's it, lay all the blame on me - you take no responsibility for yourself, Lupin, that's your problem."
"Yes, I'm sure," Remus answered, smiling into his glass.
They sat in silence as much as they spoke, these days, and that was fine by Remus. Sirius's presence alone was both gift and company enough.
After a good, long time, the house began to grow quiet and still. Remus got to his feet and went to the door, wondering if anyone was still awake. What he saw made him pause at the doorway: Ginny and Harry, with their backs to him, standing in the hallway and talking too quietly to be overheard.
Remus felt struck once again by how young Harry was, for all that he had seen and done. It made Remus feel young, too, because looking at them made it almost seem as though it were James and Lily standing there. Something tight and bittersweet clenched in Remus's chest, and when Ginny glanced upwards toward the mistletoe that was hung above them, he pushed the door gently shut.
"Everything all right?" Sirius asked, looking up from his book.
Remus nodded. "Yes." He walked over to Sirius, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. "It's gone midnight," he said. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Sirius replied, reaching for Remus's hand, drawing it to his shoulder.
Remus reached down and pulled the book from Sirius's lap, leaning against the arm rest and moving to kiss Sirius, slowly, taking his time, luxurious in the knowledge that they had no need to be fierce or brief or rushed. Sirius murmured something indistinct against Remus's mouth, and laid his warm palms against Remus's back, the fire crackling softly in the background.
