Christmas Presents

By Stan Remus Lupin / Sirius Black

Rating: PG-13 for implied sexual relations.

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.

In spite of the dreadful weather around the Hogsmeade area that December, Christmas Day had not let the wizarding communities in the north of the country down. The sun shone brightly, low down in the clear, blue sky. All around, wizarding children were rushing outside to play with the new toys they had received for the Holiday. Mothers shouted at them half-heartedly to wrap up warm as they bolted outside in house clothes, only to run back to grab coats and scarves as they felt the surprisingly icy wind chills blowing across from the Irish sea.

All across the British Isles, from Kent to County Derry, children were opening up their Christmas presents (or wishing that they hadn't unwrapped them so quickly!). And even though it was the Christmas holidays, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was certainly no exception.

Sirius Black, raven-haired heart-throb to the girls in public, raving, flared queen in private, had just finished enjoying his own "Christmas present" – having awoken to find a small pile of Christmas presents at the foot of his four-poster, including a very large, person-shaped parcel mummified in wrapping paper. 'Ah, yes,' he sighed, rolling off the mess on his bed – piles of red crêpe paper, Remus, gold crêpe paper, more Remus, pyjamas and whipped cream. 'Definitely a good idea to stay here for the holidays.' For Sirius, not wanting to continually be a burden upon the Potter family but certainly not wanting to go back to London, had stayed for the Holiday. 'Still, it was nice of Remus to keep me company,' he thought, because Remus fobbing his parents off that he wanted to do some extra work in the library for his NEWTs meant that the two lovers could spend a little… quality time together.

"I suppose we'd better get tidied up, then," said the mess on his bed, which had begin to move softly.

"Already, Moony?" Sirius groaned. "There's no need just yet, is there?"

"I suppose not. I'm just worried that Professor McGonagall will come in to wish us a merry Christmas. And I'm not sure what she'll say on discovering her favourite Transfiguration student mysteriously lying naked on somebody else's bed, covered with scraps of wrapping paper and random dairy products!"

"I can just imagine it!" Sirius giggled. "Mr Lupin! Mr Black! Hide your shame!"

"Why, Sirius, dear boy, you're giggling like a naughty schoolgirl!"

"But Remus, my dear, I am a naughty schoolgirl!"

"Err, that was a naughty schoolboy last time I checked – unless I'm much worse at Care of Magical Creatures than I thought?"

"What!" the younger boy gasped, feigning mock hurt. "So, I'm just another… creature to you, am I?"

"Well, you certainly acted like a beast a few minutes ago!"

"Who? Me?" Sirius gasped, his voice dripping with so much innocence and charm that not even the most gullible person on this planet would even think of believing him.

"Anyway, you've got other presents to open, Miss Sweetness-and-Light."

"Oh, yeah!" the dark-topped lad said excitedly, as he dove into the pile of brightly wrapped boxes at the foot of his bed.

Remus picked up a small, rectangular present, wrapped in grubby brown paper.

"Who's that one from?" asked his boyfriend.

"Wormtail," he replied, carefully opening the gift. "Ah, how thoughtful. 'Psychosomatic Fear and Word Association: Examining the Real Power behind the Unforgivable Curses'. Typical. He's trying to get me into the really deep stuff again. Still…" he said, as he absent-mindedly put the book face down on his bedside table, "whatever makes him happy, I suppose." He looked up at Sirius, who had picked up a small gift, wrapped beautifully in plain but fancy gold, shiny paper. It had all the feeling and aura of someone who had passed off a toiling house-elf's work as her own. "Who's that one from, Pads?"

"It's from Mother Dearest. Let's see now…" said Sirius, trailing off as he opened the delicately wrapped package. "Aha! Thought as much," he smiled, almost triumphantly, as he opened a small box that had been contained within the plain gold paper, revealing a precious-looking gold signet ring depicting the Black Family Crest. "Just as I thought. 'Toujours pûr'!" he snorted. "The annual serving of beautiful, expensive guilt!". The raven-haired boy sneered at the gift as he buried it immediately at the bottom of his sock drawer next to his bed. "Aha!" he called, fishing out a large parcel from the modest pile under his bed. "Now this is more like it!"

Meanwhile, Remus had found a similar present amongst his own.

"Prongs?" he asked, looking up at his mate.

"Yup. Prongs." Remus opened the gift box, closely followed by Sirius doing the same. But what they found caused both of them to look up in confusion.

"What in Merlin is this?" asked Sirius.

"Dunno," came the rusty-topped boy's perplexed reply. For Remus's present consisted of a thick, red, studded dog's collar, a leash and a scrap of parchment, torn roughly, and when he tried to read it none of the words or phrases seemed to make any sense. Sirius's parcel contained a similar scrap of parchment and a choke chain.

"Ah!" exclaimed the older boy thoughtfully. "Put the parchments together."

"O-kay…" his partner started. As they did, it became clear that both parchments made up halves of a letter from the loveable prankster back in Surrey. Remus cleared his throat and began to read the letter aloud:

"Dear Moony and Padfoot,

Merry Christmas! At last, you've worked out what to do with your letters. Follow suit in kind, and you'll realise what to do with your presents! I'll give you a clue – Moony, didn't your mother ever tell you that you should always share your toys with all the other little boys that you play with?

Have fun, and see you in the New Year!

Prongs

P.S.Padders, you really ought to do some more practice casting silencing charms.

Honestly! "

As Sirius read the postscript, his face turned a delightfully horrible shade of pink.

"Whoops?" he offered.

"Bloody hell, Padfoot!" snarled Remus, feigning fury. As angry as he seemed, one needed only to look at his eyes to see that he was desperately trying not to laugh. "I ask you to do one thing!" Remus couldn't hold off the next giggle, and the two collapsed in each other's arms, laughing hysterically.

"Well," Sirius said, after recovering from his laughing fit. "What d'you suppose he meant? That we should 'share our toys'…"

"You are joking, aren't you? You mean you don't know?"

"We-e-e-ll, I am just a sweet and innocent, well-behaved member of the Black family, I'll have you know, you big oaf!"

"Yeah, right! Whatever…"

"So, what shall we do now, then?" the thinner boy demanded haughtily.

"Well," Remus chuckled, his eyes travelling from his lover to the open boxes lying on the bed. "I've got a few ideas…"

And so a merry Christmas was had by all, although it was Boxing Day before anyone in the seventh year Gryffindor dormitory got round to opening any more presents…