Fic: A Good Christmas for audrey_tom
Jan. 1st, 2010 11:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mezzopianoforte.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
small_giftsTitle: A Good Christmas
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mezzopianoforte
Recipient:audrey_tom
Rating: PG
Highlight for Warnings: *AU; everyone is aliiiive*
Word Count: 803
Summary:The Potters and Peter are spending Christmas at Sirius' and Remus'. Set in 198...3 if my maths has worked
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy this,audrey_tom :) I'm planning on doing some art to go with this fic in a week or so - that will be yours as well, if you'd like it :D
At The Potters’
“We’re going to be late,” James said, without much heat, as he watched Lily and Harry chase each other round the kitchen.
“Use the time to brush your hair,” Lily suggested helpfully, deftly catching a chortling Harry and stuffing his arms into his coat while he wriggled about, clearly enjoying himself. "Or change your robes, maybe."
James blinked, somewhat affronted. “I’ve brushed it five times in the past ten minutes. And what's wrong with these ones?”
Lily giggled, all white teeth and red lipstick, and James found himself grinning reluctantly along with her. “Never mind. I’m sure they’ve seen you look worse.”
“Well, you look lovely enough for the two of us,” James said smoothly, and he stepped forward to hold onto Lily, bending her backwards in a grandiose embrace. Laughter reverberated around the kitchen again, with Lily shouting at him to stop, stop, or he’d mess up her hair and oh – her earring had fallen out – and look at the time!
“Harry, darling, go and stand by the fireplace. I just need to grab the presents,” Lily instructed, bending to kiss him stickily on the forehead with shiny red lips and wobbling slightly on her heels as she did so. Harry, frowning, rubbed the lip-stains off his head, but did as he’d been told to.
“Always late,” James said, sorrowfully watching his beautiful, hopeless wife twirl around the room. “How is it that you are always late?”
“It’s a gift,” Lily said, meeting his eyes with a smirk that made James feel a little dizzy. “Now let’s go.”
At Peter Pettigrew’s
Peter bloody loved Christmas. Everything about it was perfect - everything from the brilliant food to the brilliant games to the brilliant company. He was spending that particular Christmas at Sirius and Remus’ cottage, and after three years, he was still ecstatic at being able to escape that less-than-ideal familial Christmases that had been a gloomy tradition for most of his life.
He looked around his humble place of residence. It wasn’t as big and fancy as James’ house, or as cosy and homely as Remus and Sirius’, but it was steady and somewhere to sleep at night, and he felt warmly towards it. It was his, and that was the best thing of all.
Putting the presents under one arm and adjusting his tie with the other hand, Peter stepped into the green flames.
At Sirius and Remus’
“They’re late!” Sirius whined.
“They’re not even five minutes late,” Remus pointed out, irritatingly reasonable. “We said half past. It’s nearly twenty-five to.”
“And here we are!” James’ voice sounded from the doorway. “Sorry - women,” he added, with a conspiratorial grin in Sirius' direction, who snorted and punched him on the shoulder affectionately.
“Keep that up and I’ll transfigure your – quite frankly excellent - gift into coal,” Lily called serenely from the living room, where the fire was. “Hello Sirius! Remus! Sorry we’re slightly late.”
“Not at all,” Sirius said, smoothly transitioning into host mode. “Fashionably late.”
“Hello!” Harry shouted, cannonballing into Sirius and hugging him tightly around his stomach. “Happy Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, my favourite three-year-old,” Sirius replied, lifting him up above his head until Harry shrieked in delight, his little fat hands pulling Sirius’ long hair. “And look, here’s Moony!”
Harry hugged Remus with equal bone-crushing force, and Remus had to laugh. “Hey, Harry – happy Christmas! Maybe later you’ll find a present for you under the tree. Or more than one!” Remus gasped theatrically and Harry flailed, utterly gleeful.
A coughing sound alerted the party to Peter’s arrival. He entered the room, his ruddy complexion even redder than usual due to the lazy warmth of the Floo flames.
“Peter!” Sirius slapped his friend on the back. “Good to see you. You look well.”
Christmas at Sirius’ and Remus’ was never particularly orderly – in fact, it was pretty chaotic, really – but it was always fun, at least. And at least no one really minded that the parsnips tasted hideous (Remus’ fault), and that the turkey was actually an Engorged chicken (Sirius’ fault), and the fact that all the good wine had been used several days previously (both of their faults).
Still – it was good.
Later
“Glad that’s over,” murmured Remus, pushing a few stray hairs out of his face. “Not that it wasn’t, you know, brilliant and everything, but it’s nice for it to be just us again.”
Sirius smiled and Remus could feel it. “And I’ve put the mistletoe out again.”
Remus couldn’t help a startled laugh. “You hid the mistletoe? Why?”
“Well,” Sirius said, with a grin, “couldn’t risk one of that lot getting their lips on you, could I?”
“Idiot,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “As if I’d let them.”
“I know,” agreed Sirius, with a happy little shrug. “Still.”
“Happy Christmas,” Remus said, leaning in for a kiss.
“Yeah,” Sirius mumbled. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Above them, the mistletoe swung gently on its string.
Author:
mezzopianoforteRecipient:
audrey_tomRating: PG
Highlight for Warnings: *AU; everyone is aliiiive*
Word Count: 803
Summary:The Potters and Peter are spending Christmas at Sirius' and Remus'. Set in 198...3 if my maths has worked
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy this,
audrey_tom :) I'm planning on doing some art to go with this fic in a week or so - that will be yours as well, if you'd like it :DAt The Potters’
“We’re going to be late,” James said, without much heat, as he watched Lily and Harry chase each other round the kitchen.
“Use the time to brush your hair,” Lily suggested helpfully, deftly catching a chortling Harry and stuffing his arms into his coat while he wriggled about, clearly enjoying himself. "Or change your robes, maybe."
James blinked, somewhat affronted. “I’ve brushed it five times in the past ten minutes. And what's wrong with these ones?”
Lily giggled, all white teeth and red lipstick, and James found himself grinning reluctantly along with her. “Never mind. I’m sure they’ve seen you look worse.”
“Well, you look lovely enough for the two of us,” James said smoothly, and he stepped forward to hold onto Lily, bending her backwards in a grandiose embrace. Laughter reverberated around the kitchen again, with Lily shouting at him to stop, stop, or he’d mess up her hair and oh – her earring had fallen out – and look at the time!
“Harry, darling, go and stand by the fireplace. I just need to grab the presents,” Lily instructed, bending to kiss him stickily on the forehead with shiny red lips and wobbling slightly on her heels as she did so. Harry, frowning, rubbed the lip-stains off his head, but did as he’d been told to.
“Always late,” James said, sorrowfully watching his beautiful, hopeless wife twirl around the room. “How is it that you are always late?”
“It’s a gift,” Lily said, meeting his eyes with a smirk that made James feel a little dizzy. “Now let’s go.”
At Peter Pettigrew’s
Peter bloody loved Christmas. Everything about it was perfect - everything from the brilliant food to the brilliant games to the brilliant company. He was spending that particular Christmas at Sirius and Remus’ cottage, and after three years, he was still ecstatic at being able to escape that less-than-ideal familial Christmases that had been a gloomy tradition for most of his life.
He looked around his humble place of residence. It wasn’t as big and fancy as James’ house, or as cosy and homely as Remus and Sirius’, but it was steady and somewhere to sleep at night, and he felt warmly towards it. It was his, and that was the best thing of all.
Putting the presents under one arm and adjusting his tie with the other hand, Peter stepped into the green flames.
At Sirius and Remus’
“They’re late!” Sirius whined.
“They’re not even five minutes late,” Remus pointed out, irritatingly reasonable. “We said half past. It’s nearly twenty-five to.”
“And here we are!” James’ voice sounded from the doorway. “Sorry - women,” he added, with a conspiratorial grin in Sirius' direction, who snorted and punched him on the shoulder affectionately.
“Keep that up and I’ll transfigure your – quite frankly excellent - gift into coal,” Lily called serenely from the living room, where the fire was. “Hello Sirius! Remus! Sorry we’re slightly late.”
“Not at all,” Sirius said, smoothly transitioning into host mode. “Fashionably late.”
“Hello!” Harry shouted, cannonballing into Sirius and hugging him tightly around his stomach. “Happy Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, my favourite three-year-old,” Sirius replied, lifting him up above his head until Harry shrieked in delight, his little fat hands pulling Sirius’ long hair. “And look, here’s Moony!”
Harry hugged Remus with equal bone-crushing force, and Remus had to laugh. “Hey, Harry – happy Christmas! Maybe later you’ll find a present for you under the tree. Or more than one!” Remus gasped theatrically and Harry flailed, utterly gleeful.
A coughing sound alerted the party to Peter’s arrival. He entered the room, his ruddy complexion even redder than usual due to the lazy warmth of the Floo flames.
“Peter!” Sirius slapped his friend on the back. “Good to see you. You look well.”
Christmas at Sirius’ and Remus’ was never particularly orderly – in fact, it was pretty chaotic, really – but it was always fun, at least. And at least no one really minded that the parsnips tasted hideous (Remus’ fault), and that the turkey was actually an Engorged chicken (Sirius’ fault), and the fact that all the good wine had been used several days previously (both of their faults).
Still – it was good.
Later
“Glad that’s over,” murmured Remus, pushing a few stray hairs out of his face. “Not that it wasn’t, you know, brilliant and everything, but it’s nice for it to be just us again.”
Sirius smiled and Remus could feel it. “And I’ve put the mistletoe out again.”
Remus couldn’t help a startled laugh. “You hid the mistletoe? Why?”
“Well,” Sirius said, with a grin, “couldn’t risk one of that lot getting their lips on you, could I?”
“Idiot,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “As if I’d let them.”
“I know,” agreed Sirius, with a happy little shrug. “Still.”
“Happy Christmas,” Remus said, leaning in for a kiss.
“Yeah,” Sirius mumbled. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Above them, the mistletoe swung gently on its string.
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