It was a quarter to twelve in the night of Christmas Eve, and Kingsley lay staring at the red and gold ceiling of the Gryffindor common room. He was not alone. His friends were here in the large and rather empty Hogwarts castle with him - Sirius because his family made it clear he wasn’t welcome at home, James and Remus because, well, Sirius, and Peter because the rest of them were there. Siruis reached for the pile of gifts they’d put out on the coffee table. “Let’s open our presents.” “No!” Remus swatted at Sirius. “It’s not Christmas morning yet.” Sirius shot him a look, a look that said It pretty much is, but pulled his hand away and reclined back on the sofa anyway. Kingsley grinned at the two of them. They'd spent the evening bickering about inane things, i.e. cats versus dogs on the cuteness scale (Have you seen a golden retriever puppy? It's cute as hell, Sirius had said at one point. Kingsley concurred. He was a dog person. Sitting there with them, Kingsley was suddenly glad that he'd met them. That they were friends. He wasn't quite sure where he'd be without these boys with him through the good and the bad. The clock struck twelve. "Merry Christmas!" they chorused. Kingsley smiled, clinking his glass with the others. -- for writersarea, merry christmas!!
“Did you really sneak out to Hogsmeade in the dead of night for me?”
“Yeah,” Scorpius smiles. “Had to nick the cloak from James while he was asleep, but Al didn’t mind lending me the map.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“S’alright. I’m actually impressed with myself for rendering the great Rose Weasley speechless.”
Rose snorts, taking another look at the bag of Honeydukes sweets in her hands. “Thank you. Really.”
“Will you two stop flirting already? Merlin’s beard,” Albus mutters from behind his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. He hears an indignant “Shove off, Potter!” before a roll of parchment slaps him square in the face.
(His best friends are ungrateful and prone to violence, but so help him, Albus is eternally fond of their ridiculous faces.)
Surprise I’m your secret santa! I’m so sorry this is a day late, that was totally my fault for poor planning and messing the dates up in my head. Anyway, here is 2k of heavily angst-filled Remus/Sirius for you (I enjoyed writing it way too much. Angst is 100% my favourite.) You asked for post-Hogwarts and my brain immediately jumped to the first Christmas after Hallowe’en, 1981 haha. So that’s what I went with. I know this wasn’t supposed to be a specifically Christmas themed fic, but I think you’ll find that it’s really not...
Anyway, Merry Christmas! I hope you had as much fun with the secret santa as I did, and I really hope you enjoy your gift <3 <3 <3
Merry Christmas again and Happy New Year!
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s): Remus Lupin, Sirius Black
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius (mostly implied, sorry)
Rating: Teen, I guess?
Summary: In the morning, we follow Remus, as he goes to give his respects. In the evening, we follow Sirius, as he loses a few more pieces of himself. A very short glimpse into the lives of Remus and Sirius on that first Christmas after the War, December 25th, 1981.
ao3 link: here
December 25th, 1981 – 8:16 am
As dawn creeps over the horizon, all is still and not a creature is stirring in Godric’s Hollow. All are tucked safely and snuggly in bed, dreaming of sugarplums and presents to be unwrapped once the morning really gets underway. All – even the little ones – remain peacefully, fast asleep. All but one, that is.
In the graveyard a creature is stirring, winding his way among the headstones. He trails footprints in the snow, gait unhurried, bearing a weight of sorrow. Eyes downcast, shoulders slumped, chin tucked deep within a tattered scarf. His hands jammed in his pockets, clenched just like the rest of him. He is a man on a funeral march, passing row upon row of grave markers, searching for one in particular.
Eventually, he finds his quarry.
In the quiet calm of Christmas morning, Remus Lupin kneels down in front of a gleaming white headstone. He lets his eyes linger on the marble, tracing the names of dear friends, and words that seem to do too little to convey how important these people were in life.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. He wonders who chose it. It could have been James, certainly has the arrogant flair that he would’ve liked. Sirius would’ve liked it too, if James did. Best not to think of Sirius. Remus’s fists clench tighter.
Remus hates it, hates what it means that he’s reading these words carved here in bright white marble. He shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be here, buried beneath the snow. It’s Christmas, and they should be alive.
Beneath the headstone, the ground is barren, pristine snow untouched. This monument is unlike the statue in the square, whose base is littered in flowery wreaths and colourful paper wrapped packages: gifts from strangers, heralding the parents of the Saviour, and their sacrifice for the sake of the Wizarding World. Those are not meaningless gifts, but they come from people who don’t understand, who didn’t know the Potters, not like he did.
When he’d first seen the mounds of gifts, he’d almost vanished the lot.
They came from well-wishers, he knows, and an honest desire to do something to commemorate two people who’d been lost in the war. But these strangers could drop off their gifts and return to a world of celebration – rejoice for the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead! None of them care. None of them know the suffering felt by those Lily and James left behind.
Here, kneeling in the snow, Remus almost wishes he had given in, banished it all to who knows where. A petty action, but one that might have made him feel better, might have helped him forget that he’s here, shivering in the cold with tears freezing against his cheeks.
Heart heavy, Remus reaches into his inner pocket, pulling out a simple bouquet. Lilies, of course; innocence and purity. Rosemary for remembrance. An olive branch and poppy twined together; peacefulness in eternal sleep. And finally, a single yellow rose: for friendship, undying love, and apology.
He lays the bouquet in the snow beneath his best friends’ grave, and spells it so the freshness of the flowers will last. Lily was always better at charms, but this will have to do.
Remus’s chest is tight as he stands, laying one hand on the headstone and bowing his head so only Lily and James will be able to hear him when he speaks.
Merry Christmas. It’s not the same without you. What was the point in winning a war if you aren’t here with me? I miss you. Harry misses you too, I’m sure.
When the dam opens it all rushes out, and Remus stands there for what feels like hours. He cries, apologizes for letting them down. He hiccups his way through pleaded promises, and begs his friends to come back to him. Fresh snow begins to fall, dusting Remus’s shoulders and hair. He continues to stand there, curled in on himself in grief. There are so many people to blame, but in the anguish of this moment, Remus curses the one man who ruined it all, who betrayed them, and broke Remus’s heart. Sirius Black. Remus can never forgive him but damn it if there isn’t a part of him that doesn’t still miss him.
Remus falls back to his knees.
~****~
December 25, 1981 – 8:32 pm
Sirius wakes up and doesn’t know what day it is. This is the sixth time it’s happened, and each time throws him slightly more off kilter. Groggily he crawls to the wall, pulling himself up into a seated position, using the cold rocks for support against his back. A few blinks and the world comes into focus, half-conscious blur dissolving into clarity. There’s no need to adjust to the dark. Azkaban is always dark. Sirius is greeted by the sight of dirty stone walls, manacles hanging from the ceiling, and his single window, unbarred but no thicker than an arrow slit. And of course, the constant, oppressive presence of the guards as they prowl.
In the light of his renewed vision, Sirius has a moment to wonder, amused, if this is how James felt every time he put his glasses on, like he was being introduced to the world in clear for the first time. In the next instant the thought runs dry, slips through his fingers like sand and he is choking on sawdust. It passes quick as a wink and Sirius is left clutching his chest, breathing harsh. The thought of James’s glasses means nothing to him.
Head falling back against the wall, Sirius gazes out his window. It’s not much, but even a little is enough. It must be night now (same day as the last time he was awake – probably – since Padfoot had scraped out another tally in the morning – probably this morning, maybe) because Sirius can see the stars. Canis major is too low in the sky for Sirius to find his namesake but Orion is prominent, Betelgeuse and Bellatrix shining brightly in his shoulders. A wave of hatred washes through Sirius at the sight and he spares a moment to curse his cousin.
She’s here now too, had arrived only recently. He’d recognize her piercing voice anywhere, and it’s definitely her he can hear screaming sometimes, ranting and raving, praising her Lord.
The dementors made quick work of her, and after only a couple weeks she’s near-completely fallen into a pit of depraved insanity. Sirius feels a flush of pride at having outlasted her – it melts away almost as soon as it comes.
He doesn’t care about Bellatrix anymore. Hates her, sure. But he doesn’t care. She will rot here with him, and that is all that matters.
He continues to stare out the window, eyes glazing over as he watches the stars twinkle. At least he has the stars, as constant as the sun, never shall their light go out. Not in his lifetime, at least. If they can keep on shining through each cold and hopeless night, then maybe so can he.
Sirius pulls his knees into his chest in a semblance of conserving warmth. He hasn’t felt warm in a long time, any inkling of joy pulled from him before he can even hope to enjoy it. He doesn’t feel the cold either now. It’s all gone numb. He shivers, if only for something to do.
When the stars start to blur and his eyelids feel heavy, Sirius lets his gaze drift down from the window to the wet walls, slimy things drenched in mucous and an air of despair. The wall directly across from him is marked, clawed with tallies for each day he’s been here. Counting them depresses him more than anything, but Sirius wants to stay awake, revels in any time he can consider conscious. And so he counts.
Ten groups of five tallies with four to spare.
Fifty-four. He’s been here for fifty-four days. Not even two full months, but it feels like a lifetime.
Less than two months. It must be around Christmas. Last Christmas: Harry’s first, with laughter and toy racing brooms and a room full of light and music. Sirius misses it before it’s even gone, the joy of it stripped from his mind in an instant, all those colours dulled to sepia. He’s watching an old photograph with people and places he remembers caring about, but just doesn’t anymore.
Now it only makes him sad.
To think, he’d spend a Christmas here, in Azkaban. Alone. His first Christmas without James. James. Oh, James. And Lily too. James and Lily. Lily and James.
Overwhelmed, Sirius sinks into nightmare. He doesn’t really sleep anymore, but he dreams, caught in a snare between wake and rest. And now he dreams in shades of red and green – ironically symbolic of the season. He dreams of emerald snakes striking at lions with ruby eyes. Lily’s hair, a halo ‘round her head, splayed much too gently. Her eyes, terror-filled, reflected back at him from his godson’s face. A fresh cut: jagged, lightning bolt. James (oh James) slumped on the ground, eyes should be empty but instead they flash vivid, horrible green, the last thing they’d ever see. He dreams of red-hot anger, Muggle blood spilled across the pavement. And Peter. Peter is gone.
~****~
December 25, 1981 – 10:01 pm
Waking up doesn’t really feel like being awake anymore. Sirius’s blood is humming, sorrow whistling in his veins. It should have been me, Secret Keeper. Not Peter Pettigrew, traitor. It should have been him, lying lifeless on the floor. Sirius’s muscles sing for vengeance, wish he truly had committed the murder he’s imprisoned for.
Instead of accepting apathy, Sirius clings to anger. Grief, regret, and hatred are all he’s allowed and so he will bask in them, hold them close like proof of existence. For the first time in a long time (fifty-four days) Sirius’s eyes spark.
It only lasts so long, stews back down into despair. Listless, arms slump, body weak. Mind muddled like soup, thoughts heavy. His eyes flit through the same motions, floor to window, linger on the stars, window to wall. There, his vision catches, fixates. Tallies etched like a lifeline turn into a noose, and suddenly he’s scrambling, heart beating fast, back pressed against the wall while the shadows close in. Sirius spirals.
Fifty-four. Fifty-four. Fifty-four.
Only fifty-four days.
There’s something anxious crawling up his throat and Sirius gasps, hands clawing at his neck. Fifty-four days. It’s only been fifty-four days. He’s already losing track of the time, days blurring into nights, too much time spent half awake, trapped in fitful sleep.
Can he really make it to fifty-five?
Sirius squeezes his eyes shut and hugs himself tightly, rocking slightly against the wall. He has fits like these, more frequently every day. He just needs to remember. He’s made it fifty-four days. He can make it one more. Then another, and another if he has to. He can do it. He has to, has to hold on. Because one day – any day now – someone is going to realize. He’s innocent. He didn’t do it, not what they think he did. Remus will realize. Remus will come.
Remus.
The dam breaks.
Remus with his shabby clothes and gentle smiles and calloused hands that held Sirius like he was important. Remus with his scars and ticklish ears and laugh that rang out more cheerful than any bell. Moony who ran with Padfoot and Prongs in the night. Remus whose mouth was soft as rose petals even though the rest of him was rough. Remus with his sandy hair and sad, puppy eyes. Remus with his loopy handwriting and dainty teacup hold.
Remus, who Sirius hadn’t trusted at the end. Remus who had always been there. Remus, who Sirius couldn’t hold onto tight enough.
Sirius is falling too far too quickly, has avoided this, hoarded it as long as he could. Even now as Sirius feels the fire blazing up within him, basks in it, tears welling in his eyes from sheer joy – the shadows comes, heavy and suffocating, to smother it. He sobs, hands reaching into the darkness, grasping at nothing as the warmth of Remus is ripped from him, drained away into something listless and grey.
They are there, the same images. But he feels nothing.
This is my Secret Santa gift to @wondergirlland for @harrypottersecretsantas. I hope you are enjoying the holidays and that you like your gift!
“Evans!”
Lily looked at Sirius closely. “What are you up to, Black?”
Sirius fell onto the couch beside her, his hand to his heart. “I’m wounded Evans. Why do you always think I’m up to something?”
Lily smirked. “Sirius, you’ve got that look about you.”
“That would be my devilishly handsome face, love. Nothing I can do about that I’m afraid.”
Lily laughed. “Somehow that isn’t what I was referring to.”
“One day you’ll admit that you’re madly in love with me and my face and then you’ll be sorry. Anyway,” he sat up. “Have you been to the kitchens?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “What am I, a first year? Yes, I’ve been to the kitchens.”
Sirius rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. You’re coming with me.”
“How many times have you been to the kitchens, Sirius? Why do you need me to come along?”
“I thought you were supposed to be smart, Evans. I have to watch the map. You’ll have the carry the food.”
“How chivalrous of you, Black.”
“Always. Now let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With the map, it didn’t take long at all for the pair of them to creep through the hallways. Even though only a hand full of students had stayed behind for the holidays, the elves were already hard at work on Christmas dinner when Lily and Sirius entered the kitchens. But when they saw who had walked in the door, many of them dropped their cooking and rushed to greet the pair.
“Master Sirius!”
“Miss Lily!”
“Come in!”
“Merry Christmas!”
“Sit down! Would you like something to eat?”
“Hey guys,” Sirius grinned. “I’m afraid we’re only here for… Lily what do the muggles call it?”
“Take out?”
“That’s the one!”
“Of course,” squeaked the nearest elf. “But you must sit down and eat while we prepare your treats!”
Sirius laughed. “I’m not sure we can argue with that logic, Evans.”
“I suppose not.”
The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity and Lily smiled as she watched Sirius sweet talk an elf into letting him try a Christmas pudding. Soon a bulging hamper of cookies, cakes, and tarts found its way to the table, followed by a pitcher of hot chocolate and mugs. Seeing Lily getting ready to leave, Sirius swiped a handful of cookies and muttered something about the Hufflepuff having an unfair proximity to the kitchens.
“Leaving already, Evans?” ha asked around his mouthful of shortbread.
“Leaving before you’re too fat to climb your way back to the tower,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s go, Black.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Filch is down the corridor. We’ll have to go around.”
“Filch was seven floors down, Sirius.”
“Well, you know, magical castle and all that.”
Lily stopped and turned. “What the hell is going on? Is this some sort of prank? Are you the distraction? It shouldn’t take three quarters of an hour to get hot chocolate and some sweets. You better start explaining!”
Sirius squirmed. “It’s not a prank, honest. Evans. EVANS!” But Lily was jogging back to the common room, the food hurriedly levitating behind her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lily was livid. It was Christmas Eve, and all she had wanted was a quiet night. She had thought that Sirius taking her to the kitchens had been a nice gesture, but now it was obvious that all he had been trying to do was keep her away from the common room.
“Baubles,” she spat at the Fat Lady.
“And a very Merry Christmas to you too,” the fat lady muttered as she swung open.
Lily climbed through the portrait hole, ready to yell at the boys, and stopped short. A pile of blankets was moving by the fire.
“Ouch, no, that was my knee…”
“Sorry I can’t see anything…”
“Prongs maybe we should just start over.”
“Fine, fine.” And as Lily stood in confusion, three heads popped out from the blankets. They stared at her, just as shock.
“Oh bullocks how long have we been here?” Peter muttered.
“Evans!” James Potter grinned. “Fancy seeing you here!”
Remus sighed. “Hey Lily.”
Suddenly James seemed to realize why Lily was still staring at them. He flushed. “It’s, ah, not what it looks like.”
Lily raised an eyebrow.
“Err, how good are you at blanket forts?”
Lily continued to stare as Sirius scrambled through the portrait hole. “Am I good at what?”
“Are you good at building blanket forts?” James repeated as the boys untangled themselves from the blankets.
“Are you serious?” she giggled.
“No I think you’ll find I am, love,” said Sirius from behind her. “Now you see why our expedition had to take so long? Forty-five minutes and all they have is a pile of blankets.”
“We were trying to to do it the muggle way,” chimed in Peter.
“I think,” Lily said solemnly, trying not to laugh, “This would be a good time to use magic.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took them another half hour, even using magic, to create a structure that would stay standing with all of them inside. Warm by the fire they sat in their fort and enjoyed their pilfered goods. As they reached the bottom of the basket, Lily discovered that the elves had left them marshmallows and roasting sticks. This kept them entertained until Remus tried to roast a marshmallow that he had charmed to be the size of someone’s head. Even Lily’s best scourgify couldn’t rid the fort completely of the thousands of bits of sugary shrapnel that had gone everywhere when the sweet that Peter had dubbed “Moony’s Marshmallow Masterpiece” exploded out of the fire.
Sirius produced a bottle of firewhiskey from somewhere which sparked a round of dramatic Christmas carols. By the end of the bottle, “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer” had been given a five-part interpretive dance and every word in “Jingle Bells” had been replaced with profanity. But perhaps the highlight of it all was James and Sirius’ perfect waltz to “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” which had left the other three in fits of tearful laughter.
As they fell asleep huddled in the fort in the early hours of the morning, Lily smiled. Christmas was a time for family, and she was thankful she had found hers.
Merry Christmas, Jana ( @snowyjily )! I’m your Secret Santa and I hope you like your present!
She’s running as fast as she can, but the huge amount of snow that covers the ground is making it difficult, her legs are already starting to hurt from the effort but even then the smile hasn’t left her face. She hears his laugh from behind her, it’s closer, he’s getting closer. She laughs too, because they’re behaving like the first years that now stare amusedly at them and they’re seventeen and they’re the Head Girl and Head Boy and they shouldn’t be acting like kids but they don’t care.
He finally catches up to her, his arms wrap around her waist from behind and they fall to the ground, still laughing even as the snow soaks their robes. She barely hears the cheering and clapping from their friends as the two of them roll in the snow, each trying to get more snow on the other one. She finally manages to hit a handful of snow on his face and she giggles at the offended sound he makes. Until he hits her face with even more snow and she can feel it going down her neck and penetrating her robes.
At that, they both stop the fighting as she gapes at him. The coldness is starting to take over her whole body and their little dispute doesn’t feel as fun as it was before. He’s staring at her now, as both of them sit up, hazel eyes expressing guilt and worry as they look into her emerald ones.
“You bastard!” She slaps him on the arm and he flinches, but she knows it’s not from pain, it’s from the fact that she’s mad at him. Except she’s not really, and she’s given away by the twitch on the corner of her mouth.
“Oh, come on, Evans, you’re not even mad at me!” He rolls his eyes at her and crosses his arms, pouting, and it only makes her want to laugh harder. But she keeps a straight face as he keeps complaining. “You love to make me feel guilty, don’t you? Always pretending that you’re mad at me. And before you ask, your little smile gave you away.”
“You’re an idiot, James.” She nudges him and he chuckles.
“I know. And you love it.” He kisses her cheek and stands up, also helping her up, and she hopes that if he sees the blush that’s taking over her cheeks after his actions, he blames it on the cold.
But there’s not much time for her mind to delegate on what her blushing meant, because as soon as they arrive where their friends are, the laughing starts and Sirius is messing up her hair in that way that she really doesn’t like even if it is covered in snow.
***
She knows something weird is going on the moment she walks in the Gryffindor Common Room. Sirius and Remus are sitting in their usual place by the fireplace, but James is not with them. In his place, is Marlene, and that alone already gives her enough suspicions. The three of them are huddled up and whispering to each other and spring apart the moment Remus raises his head and sees her staring at them.
“EVANS! What’s up?” Sirius greets her, sitting back on his armchair, folding his arms behind his head and smiling a little too brightly for her taste.
“Hey, guys. So, what are you three doing together in this snowy day?” Sirius’s smile falters for a second before he straightens up, Marlene widens her eyes and Remus rolls his.
“We’re just talking, Lils. Remembering the old days, like the old friends we are.” She doesn’t believe it for a second, but decides to let it go because she knows they would never tell her what they’re up to, so she accepts the answer and continues her path to her dorm.
When she’s at the door to her room, she hears Remus laughing. “You guys are so not discreet.”
***
As the days go by and Christmas approaches, she doesn’t stop to think about what the “incident” with the two Marauders and Marlene meant, but she finds them talking more times, and James constantly complains to her about how his friends are abandoning him and vanishing together. Once, he suggests to her that Sirius and Remus have finally admitted their feelings for each other and are having an affair. She laughs. She still doesn’t know if Sirius likes Marlene or Remus, but she prefers to not intrude on their business.
She’s walking around the grounds with Marley for whatever reason her friend found to do it. With the freezing temperature and the enormous amount of snow, what could she possibly want to do outside?
“Appreciate the view of the Hogwarts’ winter, Lils. It’s the last time we’ll see it for a long time.”
She knew Marlene was right, the view was beautiful and they were leaving the school in about six months. They all knew how much they would miss it. But still, it was hard to remember all that when she was stuffed of clothes and still freezing to death. Lily had never been a fan of cold, when they were kids, her sister would say that it was because of her red hair, because they were fit for flames and hot. She used to like that definition, but today she didn’t think it was because of that anymore. She hated cold and snow because it felt like she would turn into a popsicle from being outside in just one second even if she had so many coats on that she looked like a teddy bear. And also, after a while, the whole all white thing irritated her a little.
“I know that, Marls, but you also know that I hate winter. So. Freaking. Much.”
“Right. I know that. You hate winter and snow and cold and white and everything except for Christmas.”
“Exactly.”
“Except for when you’re with James, right?” With that Lily stopped walking. She could feel the heat taking over her cheeks, even if she was freezing. She hates winter. She really, really hates winter.
“What? What are you talking about, Marlene?”
“Oh, come on, Lilyflower! Just the other day you were running and rolling around the snow with him and laughing the entire time. You normally can’t even stand a little snowball fight.” Marley doesn’t stop walking like she does, instead she turns around and walks backwards. Lily can’t help but hope that her friend falls on her butt from that.
“Okay, that’s not—“ She doesn’t finish what she has to say, because she’s hit on the back of the head by something cold and hard that’s definitely a snowball. She whips around to find the Marauders staring at her wide eyed. “WHO WAS THE BASTARD?”
Sirius and Remus both point at James. She narrows her eyes at him. “Lily, I’m so sorry, I swear I wasn’t aiming for you!” He starts walking towards her, gloved hands covering his mouth and eyes widened. A lame attempt to look worried or maybe guilty, even though she knows he’s not. If he was really feeling like that, his hands would have been all over his hair or nervously pushing his glasses up his nose.
“Oh, don’t worry, James, I know that happens sometimes…” She smiles at him and turns back around. She knows that Marley is looking at her as if she knows more than Lily’s letting show. As she hears the relieved sigh that James lets out, she grabs some snow from the ground to make a snowball. She turns to James once again and throws it at him, hitting the boy on the chest. Damn her bad aim. “Or not. Don’t try to fool me, Potter, you’re one of the greatest Chasers that Hogwarts has seen in a while, you’ve got perfect aim.” This time, his hands do go through his hair, as he smirks at her and she smiles back. They both start readying new snowballs.
Next to her, Marlene sighs dreamily. “You guys make such a cute couple!”
She freezes. “You think so, Marls? Well…” Lily says as she turns to her friend. She was going to kill McKinnon. She can feel the redness taking over her cheeks again. But then again, she was Lily Evans, and she couldn’t just let it go like that, so she throws the snowball in her hand at Marley. This time her aim is perfect and it hits her square in the face. She smiles sweetly at the other girl, who stares murderously at her. “Why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself?”
That starts a snowball fight between the five of them that lasts an entire day. Afterwards, when all that Lily wants is to take a hot, scolding bath and throw herself on her bed and just sleep, Marley bugs her again and again about James.
“You were so happy having a snowball fight with Jamesie, weren’t you, Lily? And to think that last year you almost killed me and Alice when we threw a snowball at you.”
She only turns away from Marlene and closes her eyes.
Christmas is near. That’s all she needs to think about.
***
She’s walking back to the Common Room with James after their last round. It’s Christmas Eve and they’re not on their best mood for having to walk around the deserted school going after students that are probably not there on that specific night. But even then, the boy keeps telling her lame jokes hoping to make her laugh, and she eventually does.
“Well, finally a smile from the ice queen! I was almost giving up here, Evans. You don’t make things easy for me, you know?” He gives her a lazy smile as his hand goes through his hair, messing it up in that way of his that she used to think was irritating, but now found weirdly endearing.
“I’m not an ice queen, Potter. Quite the opposite, actually, I hate ice. And snow. And cold. And winter.”
He turns to her as she says it, hazel eyes incredulous as he stares at her. “What? You’re not going to tell me that you hate Christmas too, right?”
“No, of course not. Christmas is actually the only part of this time of the year that I do like. And yet, here we are, patrolling the hallways on Christmas Eve. Just how I wanted to spend this night.”
“Well, you offend me talking that way, Evans. Are you saying you don’t like spending time with me?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, James.”
“Good. Because I like spending time with you.” He winks at her and she smiles lightly. They arrive at the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Veritaserum.”
They enter the Common Room and it’s only occupied by Sirius, Remus and Marlene, who are sitting by the fireplace once again and turned in their direction, staring directly at the Portrait’s hole.
“Hey, guys! How—What the hell?” Suddenly, neither Lily nor James can move forward. They’re stuck side by side, basically only one step inside the Common Room. Sirius and Marlene look almost exhilarated, and Remus, bless him, at least looks sheepish.
“Oh, but look at that, Evans! It would seem like you’re standing right below a mistletoe with my dear friend Prongsie.” They both look up, and what Sirius says is true. There’s a mistletoe hanging above their heads. She curses. Damn those two marauders and her so called best friend.
“Oh, but how unlikely! It seems that that mistletoe is enchanted so that the two people standing under it will have to kiss so as to be able to get out from under it!” Marlene smiles in a way that Lily used to think only Sirius was able to.
“Oh, but what exactly will you have to do to be able to go to your dorms and enjoy this Christmas Eve?” Sirius says, smirking mischievously once again as Marlene giggles. Remus just looks sympathetic. Lily swears that she would kill them if she could just get out from under that damn mistletoe.
“I’m going to kill you, Padfoot.” James grumbles from beside her. He hasn’t moved one bit ever since they got stuck there. His whole body is tense.
“Nah, you won’t. You’ll thank me someday. Or in about five minutes.” Sirius winks at them and she can only roll her eyes at that idiot.
“I can’t believe you’re in this too, Remus.” She looks at the other boy, who just shrugs. Great help.
“I’m sorry, Lily, but I didn’t have much choice. When I saw, I was already in it.”
“Like usual.” James grumbles again, and she almost lets out a little laugh. Until she remembers the situation she’s in.
“Every time. We’ll give you guys some privacy.” Remus stands up and so does Marlene, but Sirius stays on his armchair. He looks disappointed between his two allies.
“Will we?”
“We will. Get up, Black.” Marlene grabs the boy’s arm, and he gets up begrudgingly.
“You guys are no fun.”
“Shut up, Sirius.”
The three of them go up to their dorms and leave Lily and James alone in the Common Room. Side by side, a mistletoe hanging over their heads. Stuck with only one way out. To kiss.
“So…” James stutters as he turns to her. Her hands are sweating and there are butterflies in her stomach as she turns to him as well. The boy towers over her (she’s not short, he’s just abnormally tall), his glasses are slightly crooked and sliding off his nose and she has to control herself not to fix them. “We should probably try to find a way to reverse the spell and…”
“Right, of course.” That’s definitely not disappointment she’s feeling from the fact that he doesn’t want to kiss her. Definitely not. “Or maybe we should just take the easy way out.”
He freezes again in front of her. Hazel eyes on emerald ones. “What?”
“I mean, unless you don’t want to! It’s just that we don’t even know what spell they used, let alone how to reverse it and—“
He interrupts her before she can finish her ridiculous babbling. James presses his lips to her and she’s shocked at first, frozen in spot. But as soon as she feels one of his arms wrap around her waist, she wraps her arms around his neck and melts into the kiss. And she finally understands all those girls that she had seen daydreaming about James Potter and James Potter’s lips. His kiss is perfection and he holds her as if she’s a precious thing. But suddenly, after what felt like five seconds but could’ve been five minutes, they break apart to catch their breaths.
She can already feel herself blushing as she sees him backing away two steps. His hands are already in his hair. “I’m sorry, Lils, I just…”
“It’s fine, James. We’re free now. That’s what matters, right?” He only nods and she stupidly nods back. What should she say in a moment like this? She can barely think, still struck by the kiss.
“We should… We should probably head up to our dorms, right?” She nods again at his words, and they both head in opposite directions to their dorm room’s stairs.
She stops walking as they’re both on the foot of the stairs and turns to him. “James. Merry Christmas.”
He smiles at her then. That stupid smile that gave her butterflies in the stomach, even if she didn’t admit it. “Merry Christmas, Lily.”
She goes up the stairs and so does he. There’s a smile at her lips that’s definitely not from their kiss. She enters the dorm and Marlene is sitting on her bed.
“Oh, you’re out! Guess that means that…”
“Shut up, McKinnon. Get out of my bed.”
“Come on, Lily! Tell me how it was.”
“I just want to sleep right now, okay? Good night.”
“Fine. But don’t think that you won’t have to tell me everything in the morning, because you will.”
She doesn’t answer her, only lays down on her bed as Marley lays down on hers. She closes her eyes and tries her best to stop thinking about James’s kiss.
“But think on the upside, Lils, now you have someone to warm you on the cold winter you hate so much.”
She throws her pillow at Marlene’s face and is very satisfied by the ‘oof’ her friend lets out.
Merry Christmas, @im-a-proud-potterhead! Sorry this is a bit late. I hope you enjoy it! For everyone else, this is a Tonks-centric Remadora fic for the Harry Potter Secret Santa.
Tonks breathed out a cloud of icy breath and tucked her hands deeper into her armpits as she hurried along.
Not for the first time, she thought longingly of coating all of her exposed skin with a thick layer of polar bear fur. Her mother had absolutely forbidden her from ever trying it, or any other transformations bordering on creaturistic, stating the effects could be irreversible.
Tonks was fairly sure it was more down to snobbery than anything else (her pig snout was fine, after all). But Dad would always roll his eyes fondly and say, “Dora,” in that patient way of his, and the temptation to argue further would usually fizzle out,
Besides, as she took a sharp right past The Crooked Sickle, she had nearly reached her destination. She could brave the cold a little longer.
Maybe next time, though.
Brushing past a few carousing revellers, who smelled like they’d been drinking enough to be ejected from the pub, she finally saw it.
“Thank Merlin!” she announced, as she stepped through the weathered blue door to the cheery tinkle of the shop’s bell.
“Tonks?”
A very pale girl, perched on a stool at the counter was staring at her in surprise.
“Wotcher, Celeste.”
Tonks didn’t look up, concentrating on stamping her feet on the doormat without tripping.
“Goodness. Is it snowing?”
Tonks scowled at the innocent white substance already melting away into the mat’s material.
“No. Someone thought it’d be funny to enchant the entrance to the Alley with a Blizzard charm. I had my own flurry chasing me halfway down the street before I figured out the counter charm. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but, well, you know how I can be about running and diagnostics at the same time.”
Celeste nodded. Multitasking was not her strong suit. It was a drawback for an Auror.
“What can I do for you?” she asked instead, changing the subject.
Surprisingly, Tonks blushed and looked at the floor.
“Actually, I was looking for a present for a friend.”
Celeste raised one delicate eyebrow. It was finely sculpted and elegant, like everything else about the half-Veela.
“A friend? Let’s see. What area of research is she interested in? Runes? Talismans? Folklore? Bestiaries? We have everything here.” There was a note of pride in her voice as she spoke. Quills was a family-run academic bookshop. It was the only reason Celeste had a job on Diagon Alley.
Tonks blushed harder.
“Actually, he has more of an interest in Dark Creatures. I suppose that would be under Bestiaries, wouldn’t it?”
Celeste’s face remained blank. Any of Tonks’ ex-school friends would have been giggling and asking embarrassing questions by now. Like Claire Fairweather, working in Flourish and Blotts. Coming here instead had definitely been a good decision.
“That’s right,” she replied, without skipping a beat. “This way.”
She hopped down off her stool and led the way into the bowels of the shop. It was much bigger than it looked, with lines of bookcases arranged higgledy-piggledy reaching, apparently infinitely, into the gloom. Tonks could never be sure if that was a trick of the dim lighting, a deliberate magical illusion or a truly impressive Extension charm.
Eventually, Celeste took a left to skirt a stack dropped haphazardly across their path to create an improvised T-junction, and stopped.
“There it is,” she announced. “The Bestiary Section.”
Tonks gaped.
They were standing before a gigantic dragon’s skull, completely blocking their way. Its jaws gaped wide enough to allow even someone Hagrid’s size to step through. The back of the skull had been removed, and through it they could see more bookshelves, some carved into the wall, the only evidence Tonks had seen so far that the back of the shop actually had any.
She would have to step into the dragon’s mouth and walk through its skull to reach them.
“We also stock some books on Zoology and Crypto-zoology in there, if you’re interested. Will you be all right? I need to get back to the counter now,” Celeste was saying. Tonks managed to nod and watched as Celeste glided away, leaving her alone with the dragon.
Tonks swallowed. It was hard not to be a little uncomfortable stepping into its mouth. The tips of its fangs reached her lower thigh.
It was almost as if Celeste’s family were actively trying to deter visitors to the section. Though considering their mixed ancestry, they might have been.
Stepping gingerly through a gap in its teeth, managing not to wobble and impale herself, she reached her destination with a sense of triumph.
Only to be confronted with shelves and shelves of books looming mercilessly, reminding her she had no idea what she was looking for.
Harry and the Weasley kids had mentioned Remus teaching Magical Creatures during his tenure at Hogwarts, but she had no idea what books he might have, or what might interest him.
An overview or encyclopaedia would surely be too basic. He would have something like that already. She pointedly ignored The Monstrous Moon and Lunar Lunacy: Lycanthropy and Other Disorders.
Perhaps something related to Dementors? He was constantly fussing over Sirius, after all. Maybe there would be something here about recovering from the effects of Dementor exposure? And she was sure Celeste had mentioned an Indexing spell her family had invented.
Grabbing a few likely looking titles, Tonks navigated the skull again and headed in the direction (she hoped) of the front of the shop. The distant tinkle of the shop bell called to her like a beacon, and, with some relief, she spotted Celeste shelving.
“Celeste! Do you remember that spell you were telling me about? You know, the indexing one you mentioned at – .”
“Nymphadora?”
A pair of calm, grey eyes blinked at her in surprise.
“Remus!” she squeaked. She knew without looking that her hair had flushed a vivid pink to match her cheeks.
Two loud, clattering thumps informed her that Creatures Vile And Cruelle and Fiends and Faeries: A Guide had slipped from her grasp. She inwardly cursed.
“W-what are you doing here? And don’t call me ‘Nymphadora’,” she added, as an afterthought. “I told you to call me Tonks!”
She saw Celeste shoot him a speaking look and ignored her.
“Sorry,” he replied in the quiet, low, almost shy tone that always made her heart flutter. “Tonks, then.”
Her hair flared into a rainbow.
“Curses,” he added.
Tonks jolted. “What?”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “I’m researching curses. For our friends.” He winked conspiratorially. Her mind was blank for a second – too thrilled with the fact that they were sharing a secret – before she remembered he meant the Order.
Celeste, standing to the side, cleared her throat. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you our section on Curse Breaking and Crafting.” She hesitated, before adding. “It may interest you to learn, we also have a private library, not open to the general public. You may find its contents more… extensive than anything you’ll find at Flourish and Blotts.”
She meant they stocked books on Dark Magic. A slight crease appeared in Remus’ forehead, and Celeste tutted (as much as a half-Veela could).
“My family have a motto, you know,” she said. “Nosce Inimicum. Know Thine Enemy. I would have thought someone like you would appreciate its wisdom.”
Remus shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Tonks.
“These are dangerous times we live in,” he said guardedly. Celeste inclined her head graciously and swept away.
Remus started to follow her, then stopped by Tonks, leaning in close. She could feel his breath on her neck. He smelled of soap and a darker, musky scent she couldn’t identify. Her brain froze.
“I’ll see you at the meeting.” His voice was warm and, it seemed to Tonks, toe-curlingly intimate, as if they were conspiring against the world together.
She must have said something in reply, or made some kind of noise of agreement, because he smiled and turned to follow Celeste.
In a daze, Tonks wandered out of the shop.
She had almost reached The Leaky Cauldron before she remembered.
