First ever Harry Potter fanfiction! I'm not really sure what else to start out with than that, but I hope you like this first chapter. Hopefully the future ones will be a bit of an easier read… This takes place in GoF, so I pretty much re-wrote the Christmas scene there. Sorry if you don't like it when people edit the actual books like that, but otherwise the story wouldn't fit. Basically, Remus Lupin is staying at the Burrow and is trying to figure out what to get Harry and Sirius for Christmas. He wants to make it special, he hasn't had a Christmas with his friend in twelve years, and he thinks Harry deserves it. He thinks up the idea to give them memories, collecting them from various family friends about the warm moments in the past, mainly featuring the Marauders. Some will be corny, bittersweet, funny, etc. They remind Sirius of what he lost in Azkaban and Harry what he never knew.
Give it a try and review? Tell me if I should stick to Maximum Ride fanfictions or another chapter? Well, I'll probably add another chapter if you want it or not, but I like it when people like what I write. So, anyway, if you have stuck through this obnoxiously long author's note… Chapter One!
Remus Lupin had a problem.
He noticed this with a hint of a smile. No, it was a bit more than his monthly 'furry little problem.' Honestly, if he was straight with himself, it was of greater importance to him than the other. Unfortunately, there were about twelve full moons in the year, depending on the leap years, but those were only important to Lupin. Christmas, on the other hand, only came once a year, and Remus adored Christmas. He no longer spent it at his either his mother's house or James', he no longer tried his hand (and failed) at Quidditch on Christmas morning. And yet, he thought to himself as he heard Sirius rasping loudly about merry hippogriffs, some things hadn't changed. Granted, when Sirius used to sing the carols, he actually did a fine job at it, even though neither he nor his friends had mentioned it. It still hurt Remus that his best friend's voice would never be completely restored.
He would have cursed snivelly little Peter to Kingdom Come if it hadn't been for Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Fred playing Exploding Snap at the other end of the dinner table. Granted, he was still earning some foul looks from Molly Weasley as he sliced a rather large chunk of bread in a form that made it look like he had torn it with his teeth.
Back to the matter at hand, he reminded himself. The more important things. Although Christmas had always been one of Remus' favorite holidays, this was a special one. It was his first Christmas with his best friend in twelve years. The first Christmas that Harry would have with actual relatives, and it was an unspoken consent that Sirius was more related to the boy than the Dursleys were. Harry and Sirius already got along famously, even though they had technically only known each other for six months. Although not all the Weasley's could attend, everyone but Percy had managed to wrangle it in to their schedule. It seemed to Remus, a Christmas of miracles.
Sentimental old fool. He laughed at himself, using the exact words Sirius or James would have used had they heard Remus' thoughts. Granted, there had been a bit of a tense atmosphere for a week or two at the Burrow. It was a small house, cramped with the usual seven people living there. However, Mr. Weasley had insisted upon Sirius coming, and they all had nearly forced Remus and Tonks to join in.
Honestly, Remus reminded himself. It was ol' Padfoot who caused the most trouble. As per usual.. Dumbledore had told Mr. Weasley about Sirius' rather… confusing story, and Mr. Weasley was immediately welcome to the gaunt man. Mrs. Weasley had taken a bit more persuasion, but she had finally agreed and decided to introduce "the kids." Ron had been immensely pleased with himself that he already knew, and the twins had insisted that his head had inflated some a few days prior to their meeting Sirius. Remus was almost glad Percy hadn't been able to attend; he was one less person that Sirius had to open up to. To Sirius, it was just one more person who could send him back to Azkaban.
Well, Harry had written, and he had agreed somewhat cautiously, then arrived at the Burrow a day after Harry with some flowers from what must have been a very warm climate, with the petals looking like bird of paradise. He was still gaunt, still sickly thin with waxy skin and sunken in eyes, but those eyes now glittered with warmth and he had showered and bought new robes so as to make the right impression on the Weasleys.
Remus had teased him endlessly about the flowers. What a sap. Granted, even with his tattoos and haunted appearance, the whole 'hunted criminal' aspect had gone over well. Then he had found that Fred and George had stumbled upon the Marauders Map in first year, and explained that he had helped make it ("Well, it was mostly Moony. He's always been the smart one, but James and I helped with the counter jinxes.") Needless to say, the twins had taken immediately to him.
But what to get him for Christmas?
"Hermione, your eyebrow is on fire." Remus looked up with a grin, Sirius had strode into the room just as the tower of cards exploded, landing a few ashes into the cooking soup.
She muttered a quick incantation under her breath with her wand pointed at her face, then nodded with a smile at Sirius. It was Christmas Eve. Even when her eyebrow was on fire she found it hard to be irritated.
"Well," Fred stood; stretching while Ginny wiped the spare ashes into the trash bin. "Who's up for a game of Quidditch?"
Harry and Ginny jumped to their feet, then glanced at Molly Weasley as she paused in her cooking endeavors.
"Fine." She muttered darkly, trying not to let their hopeful faces suck her sympathies too much. "But make it quick, dinner will be in an hour. And find Ron, he'll want to play, and don't let Charlie break anything!"
They had scurried out of the room quickly, and shouts could already be heard about who would be stuck as keeper.
"Brooms not suit you, Hermione?" Sirius asked, watching the swinging door with a trace of longing. Remus understood how he felt, hardly thirty-five years old and already an escaped convict. The ugly black stain on his wrist proved that.
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"Neither do hippogriffs." She laughed, earning a grin from Sirius. "I'm just glad the boys love them because otherwise I would never know what to get them for Christmas… they don't seem to enjoy books as much as I do."
"I can sympathize." Remus muttered, to everyone's amusement.
"It saves me loads of trouble," she continued. "Broom care kits, Quidditch Through the Ages, new gloves… though onetime I got Harry scar cover-up as a joke."
"That's excellent." Sirius barked a laugh.
Remus shook his head, grinning. "What'd he get you?"
"A hair straightener." She glanced up from her book (pulled from her pocket, Remus wondered how she managed to walk around with such a large thing) and saw their bemused faces. "It's a muggle thing, for girls who want curly hair straight. Needless to say, at Hogwarts it malfunctioned and 'straightened' Lavender Brown's potions essay. Professor Snape wasn't pleased."
"Harry probably should have given it to old Snivellus." Sirius chuckled. "Or maybe just some shampoo, he could work with that."
"Face cleanser." The werewolf abandoned the slightly mutilated bread and went to sit aside his friend, unabashed.
"Nail clippers."
"Colored robes."
"Pink robes."
"Boys," Mrs. Weasley cautioned, turning Celestina Warbeck's warbling radio special down ever so slightly. "I think Hermione has enough influence without you two."
"She's probably right." Hermoine murmured just low enough for only the two men to hear. "But at least neither of you nearly fed me to a three headed dog."
Remus, even knowing what he did of three headed dogs, cracked a smile at this. "Dumbledore told me about that."
Sirius straightened up, leaning closer to Hermione while casting cautious looks at Molly Weasley's turned back. "Harry and Ron? You're joking."
"First year." She whispered. "I hated them. They kept losing Gryffindor points, so I followed them one time. We were getting chased by Filch-yes, he's still there, as is Mrs. Norris-and we escaped into the third floor. Hagrid's three headed dog, Fluffy, was guarding the sorcerer's stone, but of course we didn't know that yet, all I knew was that I wanted to kill them, then devise a spell to bring them back to life and kill them again."
This excited Sirius so much, that his godson hadn't followed in the lines of his mother (despite what he had learned last June), that he insisted upon the entire story, and then telling Hermione about some of the things he, Remus, James and Pettigrew had gotten up to.
"Granted, no three headed dogs," he shook his head, as if ashamed with himself. "Depressing, isn't it?"
"Yeah, because monthly forays with werewolves aren't enough." Remus intoned scathingly. "Must have been so… how shall I put it, dull? Boring?"
Black grinned, glancing at his friend. "Comparable to one of Binns' essays?"
"Ah," the other man rolled his eyes. "Just what I was looking for."
"What's comparable to one of Binns' essays?" Harry, followed closely by a pack of redheads entered the crowded kitchen through the back door. All had pink noses and cheeks, bitten with cold, and seemingly a severe case of dandruff thanks to the snow. They made a pile of coats, scarves, hats and gloves on the mat, then trooped into the warm kitchen.
"Hanging out with werewolves, apparently. Not that I would know, this is all second-hand information, though Padfoot here's the expert." Remus filled the group in, taking a seat next to his friend.
"What gives you that idea?"
"Harry," Remus glanced seriously at the boy. "I'm seriously doubting this man being made your godfather. No good will come of it, as if you haven't been in detention enough."
"It's not my fault," Harry muttered. "I don't look for trouble. It just seems to find me."
"Well you just had to go follow those spiders." Ron reminded him, setting thirteen bowls on the table. "We didn't learn anything, we knew all along Hagrid hadn't opened the Chamber."
"But we didn't know that until we went!" Harry protested, fetching the spoons. Remus and Sirius exchanged a knowing look.
"I could have told you Riddle was a lying prick." His friend insisted knowingly. "And without the risk of being eaten."
"Technically," Hermione said, not looking up form the thick volume she had returned to. "Acromantulae don't eat, they drink. They would have sucked your blood, not your flesh."
"Because that's so reassuring." Fred intoned wisely. "Next time someone sends a death threat my way, I'll ask if they intend on sucking my blood or eating my flesh."
"Nah," George said seriously. "I'll ask my next date, girls love those kind of pick-up lines."
"You would know." Said Ginny sarcastically, flipping her red hair over her shoulder as everyone managed to crowd into the magically expanded kitchen. "Seeing as you're such a womanizer."
"What was that, Ginevra?" Mrs. Weasley's tone was one not to be messed with as she served her youngest daughter.
"Nothing, mum."
Her mother shot her a look, then bustled away to save the soup from the stumbling Metamporphagus whose hair was currently a vibrant shade of fuchsia.
Throughout the lively meal, Remus kept a close eye on those around him, taking in what he wished would stay. For now, the world was at peace, but outside the warm walls of the Burrow, Remus knew darkness was brewing. He had talked to Dumbledore about the current status of the Death Eaters, but everything was still in a murky haze. Both the senior Weasleys also seemed to be watching the meal as Remus was, with the occasional clicking of Bill's camera.
It was, in Remus' opinion, a wonderful chance to escape the dreary worries of everyday life as he heard Sirius, Ron, Charlie and Harry discussing Quidditch; Tonks entertaining most everyone with her continuingly changing hair (and making her cousin insanely jealous that he could not do the same); Hermione and Bill dissecting a new bestseller featured in Witch Weekly and Mrs. Weasley softly humming along to the quieted radio. Remus was just swallowing another bite of potato when everyone in the room froze. The wind whipped around the creaking house, but another sharp knock still seemed to echo around the room. In an instant, Sirius had placed his bowl of soup on the floor, waved Arthur toward the door, and took his place on the floor by Harry's feet as a large black dog.
Silverware that had been forgotten in the sudden panic fell to the table. Fred's mouth dropped open.
Arthur quickly unlatched the flimsy wooden door and held it open, but it wasn't until Arthur welcome the man in that everyone knew who had so suddenly appeared.
"Minister!" He shook the man's hand almost too heartily. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Indeed, Cornelius Fudge himself strode around Arthur Weasley with a professional smile, easily letting everyone know he wasn't there for merely a visit.
"I seem to have interrupted a party, please excuse me." He blustered, darting glances around the room, until his eyes rested briefly on the bowl of soup on the floor. One eyebrow raised, taking in the large number of people and the seeming waste of dinner.
"Dog food, Minister." Lupin stood, shaking the man's hand warmly. "Miserable creature followed me home today, and seeing how it's Christmas, I couldn't just leave him, could I?"
Under the table, his head just visible, Sirius thumped his tail against the floor.
"No, of course not." The plump fellow, though his eyes kept flicking to Harry, still watched the dog. A tense moment followed until he glanced again at Remus. "Isn't he a little, er, scraggily?"
The other man could barely keep from sighing in relief as he grinned. "Yes, but the poor fellow won't go anywhere near a water source. He's determined to stay filthy."
"I had a dog like that once," the Minister smiled warmly and patted the dog's head in what must have meant to be a kind gesture. To both Remus and Harry, it looked like Sirius would like to take a chunk out of the man's hand. "A Pekingese named Adrik. He had such long fur, it was almost as if he wanted to drive my wife and I insane."
"He has a wife?" Ginny murmured under her breath, just low enough for four of her older brothers to hear. Bill, Charlie, and Fred all attempted to keep straight faces, while George pulled a sad smile and asked what had happened to 'poor old Adrik?'
"He died, years ago."
Harry had to fake a coughing fit as Sirius 'wruffed' irritably.
"Ah, see?" Cornelius Fudge rocked back on his heels in delight as he misunderstood the large dog's gesture, then bent his knees so he could look right at Sirius. "He's quite an intelligent brute, seems to understand every word I'm saying!"
Harry finally managed to subdue his coughs as Hermione pounded him on the back, and he cleared his throat before addressing the Minister. "Sir," he began, trying for awkward. "He's a nice dog, and very smart, as you said, but we have reason to believe that he was abused and prone to bite when placed in uncomfortable situations."
Sirius shot him a grateful look as the man backed away, and yet now that Harry had spoken, he had eyes only for Harry. For a moment, they held each other's gaze until Harry leaned backward in his chair.
"I never was one for staring contests, sir. Can I help you or are you going to agree with everyone on the face of the earth and agree that yes, I have my mother's eyes?"
The Minister of Magic didn't seem to be addressed by fourteen year old boys that often, because for a moment, he just stood there, blinking.
"Ah, yes, well, I wasn't aware there would be a whole party here, hm? It was just Triwizard Tournament formalities, but I don't want to interrupt…"
"What kind of formalities?" Molly Weasley asked coldly, placing her hands on Harry's shoulders protectively while the black dog rose, taking a seated position beside Harry. The Minister stiffened, his eyes not leaving the dog. "Merlin knows he's had enough reporters for a lifetime."
"Is that so?" He asked nervously, still staring at the black dog who met his eyes, not blinking. "I just came to, well, Happy Christmas!" Before anyone could register the flush rising to his face, he turned on his heel and exited the household, leaving everyone in silence.
"Definitely a reporter, mate." Fred flicked a pea at Harry. "Did you see his expression? Priceless."
"He's disapparated." Arthur Weasley informed everyone from the window. "I agree with Fred, he surely wanted to arrange a meeting with you sometime."
"Fantastic." Harry muttered, viciously stabbing a slice of chicken. "I don't think he left fast enough."
"Yes, very gracious, Sirius." Remus took his seat with a snort. "It was obvious you understood English."
"Was not." The other man replied, changing, retrieving his untouched bowl on the floor and returning to his seat. "I even wagged my tail."
"Quite the charmer, Padfoot."
"You're just jealous, and thank you, Harry. I probably would have had to bite him if he kept patting me."
"You're an…?"
"Animagus." Sirius finished for Ginny, swallowing a chunk of bread. "Sorry for not mentioning it sooner, it was a safety precaution." He glanced almost guiltily at Arthur Weasley, but was rewarded with a nod.
"We understand. Quite the surprise, though. I thought it was illegal to be an unregistered Animagus?"
"Yep." Sirius nodded his consent and took another bite of potato. Remus rolled his eyes with a grin.
"James, Sirius and… Pettigrew both dedicated their learning to becoming animagi until in fifth year, between Sirius and James, they succeeded. James was a stag, Peter a rat, Sirius, well, you saw."
"'Pathetic creature.'" Sirius elbowed Remus. "Thanks."
"That's really advanced magic." Molly Weasley's eyes were wide as galleons, seeming to realize for the first time that the accused criminal she was sheltering for the Christmas holidays actually knew something.
"James helped." Remus raised his eyebrows but didn't comment at Sirius' rush of modesty. "Peter wasn't exactly the brains of the group. I'm still not sure how he managed to pass his exams…"
Black's eyes were distant as he absently pushed his food from one side of the plate to the other, clearly lost in memories long gone. The haunted look had returned to his handsome features, and in that instant, Remus knew exactly what he would be getting his old friend for Christmas. It would be a scrape, but he could do it. Just something to keep Sirius going through his long days on the run, something for Harry of which he could otherwise never have. Memories of good times to keep the bad ones at bay.