Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.
This is a very, very early piece of mine that I stumbled upon recently and I thought I'd post it for a laugh. Enjoy.
Crappy Christmas Anyone?
It seemed like he could never get it right.
Ever.
Well, ever since he was 10, anyway. After his world had crashed down around him. Imagine that; a ten year old's entire world destroyed. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't supposed to happen to him.
Now many of you are thinking the worst of this situation already. Triple that, then make it even worse and double that. You might be close to what this child, The James Potter, felt when he woke up and went downstairs, like every Christmas morning, to see an unfamiliar sight.
His parents.
But, they weren't just stood there. In fact, they weren't even stood up, his Mother was leaning against the sofa, whilst his Dad was lying by the brightly coloured tree, their glassy eyes staring back at him unbelievingly.
That's right.
James Potter had found out that Father Christmas was a lie. A hoax. And it was his parents that gave him his presents every year, not some jolly fat man in a red suit, but his mother and father all along. And he had caught them red-handed.
Of course, they had tried to explain to him what they had been doing with presents in their hands and in the bag beside them. Why they were placing the presents under the tree that Santa had delivered. Well, even a ten year old wouldn't buy that, would they? So, that had been when the Christmas bad luck had began.
Of course, you all know who James Potter is, how could you not? He was now Head Boy of Hogwarts School in his seventh year at the prestigious school. He was also one of the infamous Marauders who caused havoc and mayhem throughout the school, upon the student body and even the long-suffering staff. In fact, it was a current rumour that McGonagall was actually a bombshell blonde, but James Potter and Sirius Black had caused her to go grey at 25.
Ah, Sirius Black, another member of the Marauders, along with Remus Lupin and one Peter Pettigrew, all of whom were in Gryffindor. Sirius Black and James Potter, often mistaken for brothers, looked very similar with jet black hair and rather handsome features, however Sirius had dark, stormy grey eyes, whilst James' were a warm hazel and magnified by his wire-rimmed glasses.
Meanwhile, Remus Lupin was the complete oppsite, having sandy blonde hair with deep, amber eyes that showed some deep understanding lurking beneath the surface of this teenage boy. It was like he had seen too much for a sixteen year old, seen things he shoudn't have…but that's a different story.
Finally Peter Pettigrew, the misfitted cog in a well-oiled machine. This seventeen year old could barely pass as a fifth year, he had a chubby face with pale blonde hair plastered to his head and watery blue eyes. Although he didn't quite fit into the group looks-wise, they treated him as they treated the others in their quartet. Like a member of their family, whom they would die to protect.
But this story isn't about the Marauders, it is about James Potter. So let us continue.
James Potter had never had much luck with Christmas ever since he was 10 years old, and he never knew why. Here he was, on Christmas Day, sat in front of the dying fire contemplating his past grievances and misfortunes, like the depressed teenager that he was. Something not generally found in the character of James Potter was this self-pitying side of him but the evidence was all there; the fact that he had a cup of hot chocolate held in between his hands, was wrapped in a blanket and every few minutes would issue a large exhale of breath, creating a sigh.
He was thinking back to his first year at Hogwarts, when he had met his room mates and become instant friends. That, and one particular Gryffindor girl who irritated him to no end.
Anya Delioncour.
This particular House-mate had long, brunette hair that hung below her waist and sparkling blue eyes that twinkled with mirth or flared angrily when maddened by a certain quartet. She hadn't changed much, other than falling in love with Remus, of course, but again…that's a story for another time.
James didn't like this girl for many reasons. In fact, he kept a list:
She's nosy.
I've known her all my life and she's never once said something nice to me. Ever.
She doesn't have a sense of humour.
She is waaay too loud for her own good.
So there you go. That's just some of the reasons why James Potter hated Anya Delioncour, of course, he only said she didn't have a sense of humour because when he tried to push her into the vanishing closet she had hexed him so badly he had been forced to go to the hospital wing.
James Potter did not go to the Hospital Wing.
Not for any reason.
That was why he decided to play a prank on her in the first year. This couldn't be any prank, either. It had to be something that would show the Marauders as a force to be reckoned with. It had to be something to warn people not to irritate them, and maybe force Anya into line. So that's why Sirius came up with the cunning plan of picking on someone a bit meeker than Anya; her best friend.
Lily Evans.
Lily Evans, a kind looking red head that hung around with Anya. She wasn't particularly pretty, nor was she ugly, but she was distinctly unremarkable, paling against her friend's vivacious nature. She was rather small for her height, a very studious pupil who worked very hard and so seemed a rather easy target.
James decided to prank her that year to punish Anya and to gain a new target for a few days, since Lily hadn't been picked as a victim before. He gave her a Christmas present, a beautiful eagle feather quill, which wouldn't give an instant prank, but would give hours of endless giggle fits at the back of the classroom for the boys.
You see, this wasn't just any old quill; if the user happened to write for 10 minutes, the ink would blotch on the paper, if the unfortunate person wrote for over an hour, the ink would squirt them in the face and drown their parchment in ink, completely erasing their work for the day.
Now, you can probably tell where this tale leads, because, of course, Lily, being the good student that she is, did write for over an hour, and on several occasions too, wondering what was wrong with her parchment. Of course, eventually, she figured out that it was the quill, smashed it into tiny pieces and sprinkled this in James Potter's underwear drawer. No one figured out why James was scratching obscene places all that week, nor did anyone want to. Unfortunately for Lily, James had revenge in mind.
So, our little red headed book worm wasn't quite the easy target she appeared to be and the Marauder's continued to discover this over the next two years, constantly harassing her and playing dirty tricks on her. Lily, however, took it all in with a calm air about her and simply played just as nasty tricks back, possibly it was her cool composure that infuriated James to the brink of insanity.
The Head Boy leaned back on the sofa, taking a sip of the hot chocolate he held in his hands and watching the flames dancing across the fire place as he was immersed in the next years events, the fire becoming an eerie reminder of what happened that year.
The second year of Hogwarts and a 12 year old James Potter was sat at the table, shaking. His hands held a letter in front of his pale face, (whilst Lily slipped a beetle into his goblet of pumpkin juice without him noticing) and his hazel eyes were staring blankly at the loopy hand writing on the parchment.
"James! Mornin'." Sirius called happily as he sat next to his best friend and took a swig from his friend's goblet, only to cough it back out, holding up a black beetle between his finger and thumb. Glaring at Lily accusingly, he set it on the floor and turned back to James. Taking in his slumped posture and pasty appearance, Sirius frowned.
"You alright, mate?" He asked sincerely as he reached for the letter. James remained still and allowed the parchment to be prised out of his hands. Sirius cast a worried look at his friend before flattening the paper and reading, his grey eyes travelling swiftly as he absorbed each word.
"There was a fire." James' voice was so cracked that Sirius wasn't sure it was even him that spoke to begin with. Black glanced up and patted James on the back as his voice whispered a hoarse 'sorry.'
"Why Sirius? She would have been … if they had just got out quicker." James looked suddenly close to tears, but refused to let them drop from his round eyes.
James Potter did not cry. In fact, he didn't even have tear ducts.
"I don't know mate. I know how much you loved it." Sirius said comfortingly.
"SHE! She wasn't an 'it'." James said, suddenly angry at his best mate for not even realising the gravity of this situation.
"Yeah, sorry. How long had you had her?" Sirius asked calmingly as he tried to subdue James.
"12 years. She was the best cat I've ever had." James said, suddenly, everything becoming too much for him and he stood to walk, briskly, out of the hall and to 'celebrate' Christmas.
17 year old James sighed as he ran a hand roughly through his hair. That had been one of the worst memories, the day that Maisy had died. Of course, looking back, it was sort of funny that he had said 'the best cat I've ever had' since she was the only one he's ever had. Still, it was a sad memory and not one that was cherished by Mr Potter. Poor Maisy, she hadn't stood a chance when James' Mum went into the kitchen, intent on baking some cakes for a Christmas party she was hosting.
James frowned as the next year's memory emerged in his head, it was as though he was looking through a filing system of his life under the 'xmas specials' catergory. It wasn't a particularly horrible memory, just a painfully embarrassing one.
A thirteen year old James was walking down the corridor, whistling to himself and pushing his hand through his raven black hair. He had just come back from flying around the quidditch pitch and was ready to eat his weight in roast potatoes at the Christmas Feast that the house elves had prepared. James pushed open the Great Hall door, just as someone opened it from the other side and he stumbled into them.
James looked to who he had bumped into and, to his horror, McGonagall was trying to straighten her robes. He apologised quickly and tried to move towards his House table.
Notice the 'tried'.
Only, he couldn't move. He found his feet stuck to the floor, like super glue had suddenly been placed all around the sole of his shoe.
"Go on, Potter. Move, before I give you detention." Professor McGonagall threatened as she glared at him and as he was about to explain that he couldn't, she went to move herself, only to find, that she too was stuck to the floor.
It was at this point that both teacher and pupil slowly looked above them and the entire school followed their gaze to burst into raucous laughter.
Mistletoe was swinging innocently above their heads.
James blanched and felt beads of salty perspiration begin to collect on his forehead at his hair line. McGonagall turned to look up at the staff table, all of whom were trying to look outraged on her behalf and not burst into laughter, but were failing miserably. Only Dumbeldore remained completely neutral and Minevra found herself cursing all four founders for not making Dumbeldore abolish this ridiculous tradition of hanging enchanted mistletoe all over the place. At this moment in time, she thought she could've actually used an Unforgivable on the frustrating man who was merely smiling genially at her.
James gulped and looked nervously around as his voice hid his true feelings and he forced a grin.
'Maintain the image James! You are cool. You are calm. You are collected. You are a cheeky marauder. Do what you have to do. Take a deep breath and take the plunge.'
He told himself as he grinned at the fuming Transfiguration teacher.
"Well, Minnie, looks like we're in a bit of a pickle."
She wanted to murder him. She would've done too had he not at that moment reached up and pecked her on the lips. She was about to give him detention and then he winked and sprinted away from her, hiding in the crowds of cheering students.
Oh, how she hated Christmas.
Meanwhile, James was scrubbing his tongue with a fork, trying to get the taste of..of teacher out of his mouth.
The seventeen year old shuddered at that memory, it had been a rather horrid occurrence that had left him with nightmares of McGonagall chasing him down corridors in her tartan pyjamas only to try and smooch him. –Shudder- Yes, that was one memory he thought he could do without. In fact, where was a penseive when you need one?
He sighed and took another sip of his hot chocolate. His memory came to rest on the next Christmas scene, his xmas in fourth year. What a year that was. He smiled as he reminisced.
It was the first time he'd started to notice girls, and, boy did they notice him back. Over the summer he had played a lot of quidditch, ready for the next season, in which he would be playing chaser. He had developed a reasonable muscle tone, not brilliant, after all he was only fourteen, but still, enough to be noticed by some of the female population. Of course, girls didn't interrupt with his pranks, which were still being foiled by the darling Lily Evans, his quidditch, because he was sure he, I mean, they would win the cup this year, or his mates because they were as important as ever, if not more so, because James had found out about Remus' 'little furry problem.' Again, that's a story for another time.
The fourth year for James and Sirius had been fantastic and, even though he'd had a bad experience with the stuff, James fell in love with his little friend; mistletoe. Not that the girls weren't eager to kiss James and Sirius, but it didn't hurt to give them a little encouragement, did it? Of course, as always, something went wrong.
Not only did all the attractive girls in the year kiss the boys, but they also got stuck with some of the less fortunate people in the year group trying to suck their lips off their faces. One particular Ravenclaw was quite adamant that a Christmas kiss had to last for at least half a minute, if not longer. But then, this was a Christmas that James could look back and laugh about. It was fifth year that screwed the poor boy up.
Remember the lovely Lily Evans? Yes, well she matured somewhat over the summer. Returning to Hogwarts with a Prefect badge on her robes, many people were stunned that this was the same Lily Evans that had been the object of the Marauder's pranks. Of course, people knew of her fiery temper and her beautiful personality, but now that was reflected on the outside too. Over the summer her hair had grown longer and darker, now an auburn shade of red, rather than ginger. She had grown taller, her legs seeming to go on forever, and her face had matured to look more like a woman than a teenage girl.
In short, Lily Evans was beautiful.
Of course, James didn't fail to notice this, however, when he tried to approach her and ask her on a date, she flat out refused by laughing in his face, before hopping on the train without a second glance back. Now, James hadn't been overly kind to Lily over the past years, and that's an understatement, but he was determined that she would be his.
On Christmas day, he approached this beautiful red head and presented her with a gorgeous necklace, hoping that this would break the ice and apologise for all the horrible things he'd done in the past. Unfortunately, his present was returned with a note that read:
Potter,
So you really think you can buy me off that easily? Jut because all your other girlfriends have been cheap tarts, does not mean this approach will work with me. Only when you have stopped being an immature, prick of a bully would I ever consider going out with you. That will never happen, so take this as my final answer: I will never, NEVER go out with you. Leave me alone and if you harass me further, you can be sure I will report this sexual assault to McGonagall. (One of your many victims.)
Lily Evans
Of course, that was neither polite, nor kind as she brought up third year Christmas. Needless to say, James Potter enjoyed a challenge and so he became only more determined to make Lily his girl. Like many other things Potter attempted, it failed.
The 17 year old sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck in frustration, she still didn't understand what she meant to him. He'd even written her a letter this year explaining all his feelings and how he was in love with her. They'd had a fight about that. And not just any old fight. He told her what she meant to him and she just remained silent. She simply turned her back and walked away. She had still boarded the Hogwarts Express to go home for Christmas, leaving James just as depressed as every other Christmas holiday.
It was at this point that Sirius Black, partner in crime, entered the common room, with a broom slung over his shoulder and panting heavily.
"Hey Prongs, you should have come and played. It was really funny. Arabella fell off the broom so I did this diving sa..hey, what's wrong?" Sirius asked as he noticed the look on James' face. Leaning agaisnt the sofa, he tilted his head curiously at his best mate. James managed a weak grin back and shook his head.
"Nothing, Padfoot. Nothing. Do you want to go to the kitchens with me? I'm pretty hungry." The Head Boy said as he pushed the blanket off his legs and onto the floor.
"Yeah, give me one minute, will you? I'm just going to put this broom away." James nodded once as Sirius mounted the stairs and leapt three steps at a time to reach the top. Just as he pushed open the door, there was a squeal and James' head shot round to see Sirius pale-faced and wide-eyed as he came back from the boys' dormitory, broom still in hand.
"Padfoot? I thought you wer.." James started before Sirius gestured up the stairs.
"Er..I th-think you have a ..present you missed this morning. Yo-you should go unwrap it." Sirius managed to gasp out, now sporting a rather fetching blush stain on his cheeks, before he gave a short wave and rushed out the portrait hole.
James frowned and scratched his head at his friend's odd behaviour. Narrowing his hazel eyes, he glanced up at the dormitory, the door now firmly shut. He shook his head and wondered what possibly could have made Sirius shriek like that. Maybe it was a late present from his Aunt Julie, probably sending yoghurt covered raisons or something of the sort from the health farm and God knows how much Sirius fears healthy foods.
Sighing, James trudged up the stairs, his hand grazing the banister as he ascended. It was odd though, for Sirius to just run off like that.
It must have been a huge box of raisons.
James smiled at his friend's fear. It was irrational really, to be afraid of healthy food. What was it going to do? Make you lose a few pounds? Ooohhh! Scary. He sniggered as he finally reached the wooden door. Opening the door, it creaked open to reveal something James almost fainted at the sight of.
Lily Evans.
But it wasn't any normal Lily Evans.
It was Lily Evans wearing...wrapping paper?
And not a great deal of wrapping paper at that.
James stood with his mouth agape, his glasses sliding down his nose as he continued to stare at the girl draped on his bed, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. 'Mhhnmm erth?' was the most intelligent thing he could say at the time.
Lily grinned as pushed herself up to her elbows and tilted her head, her eyes sparkling wickedly like large emeralds on her rosy face.
"James? Don't you want to come and unwrap your Christmas present?"
Grinning in spite of himself, James pushed the door shut with the heel of his foot and proceeded to enjoy his Christmas present.
Not such a crappy Christmas after all, 'eh?