AN: I've been a bit depressed lately, and writing always cheers me up, but I had nothing to write about. The result is this. My hopefully hilarious tribute to the group of people who were some of my best literary friends, that is also really quite romantic because…well, Christmas. M for language only, no graphic scenes as I'm writing this in a combination of inappropriate places to do that sort of thing.

Enjoy it, review it; thanks for reading. Happy holidays, everyone.

God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen…

The jumper itself, really, isn't as horrifying as I have seen before. My dead granny used to wear worse; however, she was genetically (though not technically) a female and slightly unbalanced. I am genetically a male, arguably I'm quite unbalanced myself- but there are far less technicalities involved where I am concerned and I really can quite swear that I would never, ever put on that atrocious Reindeer clad-jumper just for amusement. Quite worse than the sight of seeing a skinny, pallid, mousy brown-haired chap in a get up such as this is- the notion that I essentially will be walking around the Potter household with James' face plastered across my scrawny chest. And I'm really in no mood to bear that thought.

I decide (well you know, I deserve it) so; I sit on my bed, cross my arms and begin to pout. Enter Sirius Black.

"You bloody git, stop looking like that! Party starts in ten minutes," he singsonged… "and Amy will want us down there to help host."

"No." I state, firmly. "Look! Yours is a nice, normal, jumper; hardly anything off by it. I will look like the biggest fool."

"Moony, mine has one black and one purple angel. Even in our world, I wasn't aware that purple people really existed."

"My reindeer looks like Prongs with Bells-Palsy." He pauses for a minute, eyes locked onto my chest, and I feel myself starting to swell until I remember that, being so skinny- this puffing of the chest as if I am displaying some form of animal/sexual mating ritual is probably noticeable. I slowly deflate my lungs and straighten my back and shoulders out.

"You know…as terribly wrong of a comparison as that was…you're quite right."

"Good. Then we're in agreement." I yank the sweater away from my chicken-neck and throw it across the room. Sirius, in a moment of pure bliss for me, stays silent, as if too stunned to speak- I am enthralled with the power I hold. I am a sex god. Huzzah! Am not a love pariah, soon to die alone in the shrieking shack surrounded by bottles of white wine and Jane Austen novels. He actually holds his tongue for moments longer and walks to the other side of the bed, grabbing the putrid article of clothing in his hands.

"Remus." He says, softly. "Put it back on."

I lied. Am going to invest in vineyard and grow lots of Chardonnay grapes, and kill people for first edition novels. I groan in disappointment. Of course, the love of my life and the deepest object of my desire would be fighting me to put my clothing back on.

"No." His eyes, frightfully sexy and steely, flash at me and I resist the urge to gulp. There is something so magnetic about the aura he radiates; like Marlon Brando in "A Streetcar Named Desire", he's volatile, fierce, harsh, rash but undeniably, he is man-meat on legs. I could totally devour him. Perhaps that's part of the problem and snag in our relationship.

"Moony. Put it on…before I make you." That look. I've seen it before. I've seen it…oh no. During the Great John Cotton battle of 1977…The House-wide pillow fight of Gryffindor that put the Marauders on the map as the dominating crew. He had the same fire in his eyes, and there were no prisoners. None. I'm doomed. But I can't resist the words that fall from my tongue- stupid, foolish tongue!

"Make me." Oh…sounds alluring. Good tongue, that was the perfect thing to say! He hesitates for only a second and then suddenly, I find myself thrown against the very small twin bed that I usually use when I come to the Potters'. The moment of sexiness- any thrill I felt- was fleeting because soon, I am being choked with the sleeves of that fucking tacky ass sweater. He tries to pull it over my face. I begin to kick wildly- now laughing at the absurdity of this Adonis trying to dress me like I'm five years old. Normally, it's the other way around. Ah, but- Christmas. It brings out the child in all of us. He catches my sock adorned foot- covered in red and green stripes no less but at least they are warm and useful- before straddling me to the bed. I'm suddenly very alert to the situation again. He moves on as if nothing as occurred. I refuse. I begin waving my head back and forth, as if I'm a baby bird waiting for food- the result is he cannot managed to pull it down over my head- the only part of my body that is substantially large. I have to have somewhere to keep the brains.

"Remus." He orders. Oh my god. Say it again. "I will get this around your head. And then I'm going to beat you senseless." THUD. I'm sorry, what was that? I just swooned.

"What in Merlin's name are you two doing?" I try to look towards the door, but my eyes are covered by the itchy fabric, and instead they begin to water.

"I think I'm allergic!" I whine.

"Remus won't put his fucking jumper on. Help me." My exciting sexual fantasy has now turned into a gay pig-pile/gang-rape. James is holding down my arms, while Peter has my feet, and Sirius remains where he had perched before. With some maneuvering and finagling, the thing finally pulls down- it has become incredibly stretched out around the neck, making me appear even scrawnier than before. The boys all grin, and remove themselves from the part of my body they had previously been violating. Sirius gets up. I almost do, too. I guess this means that I must go downstairs.

Silently, we follow James down the spiraling staircase- I'm expecting there to be a crowd of people we serenade, like the Von Trap children in the Sound of Music, or a strange wizarding version of the Beatles. However, no one has arrived yet. Instead, Amy has us all stand head to head in order of tallest to smallest- which means in my stupid wrinkled and wrestled sweater which I have managed to cover by a not much more well off set of red-glittered dress robes- I bask in the glory of Sirius Black in his angel-ornamented sweater, encased in the sleekest, black satin dress robes I had ever seen. They were a gift, he told me earlier, from his cousin Andromeda, for leaving his family behind. James robes are of a distinctly emerald green color- and his sweater is far from hideous. In fact, it is a suspiciously handsome shade of brown- deep, like chocolate and I can't help but wonder if Lily- who will be joining us tonight- will be wearing the same shade dress. James has been incredibly slick for a few weeks now, but need I remind you…my big brain…Sirius' extreme proximity to his best friend…we've managed to work out the subtle clues. I hear music and suddenly, Prongs is tapping his foot and nodding along- more out of anxiety than actual enjoyment of the song. Peter joins him, wand waving merrily in a blue sweater that has Porky Pig's face with a Santa hat glued to his head.

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me-" James nervously trills on, and Sirius glances at me only to smirk widely before he sings (boisterously) over Prongs-

"A LITTLE TASTE OF LILY'S PU-"

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK! YOU WILL NOT FINISH THAT LINE!" Instantly, his mouth slams shut but he's still towards me with that wild grin on his face. James blushes deep red; Amy Potter turns up the Celestina Warbeck and glares, Mr. Potter (Andy) brought Peter, Sirius and I a glass of eggnog thankfully spiked with some really delicious fire-whiskey- and then the doorbell rings. So it begins. James opens the door and the incoming witches and wizards coo about how handsome he has grown, how he looks more and more as his father had looked at his age, look at all the little wizards, almost men, in their cute little sweaters! Oh what cherubs! What complete and total angels! What fucking wackjobs. Really. It just goes to show that aging and the concept of going batty transcends the lines of both muggle and magical. I bear the introductions for ten minutes. After that, it's all I can take not to cry after meeting every person. I start losing my mind as well. I begin singing "I Want a Hippogriff this Christmas" under my breath, and I appear crazy, sick- completely addled. Sirius snickers, and pinches my wrist. I look up. Lily has entered.

Well…donned across her small (it's okay to say that she has small breasts, as I'm not attracted to breasts at all anyways, therefore my opinion is not insulting but objective) breasts was what appeared to be Bambi, literally, Bambi, a little doe-eyed dear licking snowflakes out of the air- snowflakes that cling to her eyelashes and her fur. At first, I tilt my head and question the seriously deranged person who made this sweater. It looks like a stag just blew a load all over her face. Literally. I just…I can't. Lily is almost at our receiving line; but it's only moments later when I find myself being backed down the hallway by someone who has grabbed me from behind. I start screaming but they instantly cover my mouth. I'm walked backwards into what I believe is the guest bathroom- covered in an atrocious shade of sage green- and the lights are switched on. I turn to see James.

"Give me your sweater." He demands, and I am lost for words.

"MY sweater?" I ask, aghast.

"YES, YOUR SWEATER!"

"…why?" I just can't believe it. He really wants MY sweater?

"Because…I wanted to match Lily in pictures so I snooped in her trunk and saw a brown dress. Yet she wore that delightfully tacky and yet oddly suggestive doe jumper. So you get to have this. Sorry, mate- you're probably not going to win the contest anymore." I could kiss James Potter. I strip off my shirt for him and hold it out. When I pull his suave one over my body, I look like I'm wearing a potato sack.

"Good lord…where did my feet go? Am I really that thin?" I ask, horrified by my reflection. James' hand is under his chin and he turns at every angle in the mirror.

"Oh yeah…I'm a good-looking chap." He says. I stare in wonder. I'm going through a Christmas crisis, and he's complimenting himself as he's sporting the ugliest sweater in existence. "Oh, well…Honestly Moony, I think it'd look really good if…hang on-" he pointed his wand at me "Reducio!" I watch as the sweater comes down about four sizes. "Is that…does that fit?" he asks.

"Actually, yes. Like a glove."

"That's amusing…considering that's the smallest the charm will take it." I frown at him, and suggest that instead of placing his wand in his dress-robes- that he shove it up his arsehole. He laughs and grabs me into a noogie- I feel like I am the tortured younger brother of a jock, and in reality, I was, but James is a good soul, a good boy and some day he'll be a good man, I'm sure. Once we've made the switch, I no longer need the robes so I shed them and leave them in my guest room before heading back into the throng of the party. Entering back into the main parlour of the house is like walking into the middle of a particular raunchy tarts-and-vicars party. Somehow in the short time that I was gone, the music had been overruled, alcohol had been distributed, and now the attenders were dancing wildly in a very raw, experimental sexual style. James looks just as horrified, confused by the same scene that I am viewing, but he says nothing as well. Lily is lost, it seems, somewhere in the crowd.

What is causing these massive amounts of wizarding folk to suddenly be in a vicious state of heat? The same kind of heat that poor Mrs. Norris sometimes feels and displays on Charlie Archiban's (Gryffindor, sixth year) Siamese kitten. This is hardly the Christmas spirit. Christmas is ruined. Must return all gifts. Raging adults about the age of my dead granny are getting disco dirty on the floor.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse at probably the most perverse couple out on the dance floor- Sirius and Lily. However, they are dancing quite normally, not even touching, more standing together and talking, occasionally remembering to move to the music so they do not stick out as sore thumbs. I'm curious as to the nature of their conversation- but James is the one who spots them first. Instantly, Sirius steps away a few feet and smirks at Lily, who grins back. He hands them both a drink from a nearby table. They both except it with smiles, and turn their attention towards each other. Sirius stalks off to the other side of the room, but a horrific and not exactly unreasonable thought darts across my mind and I can't rid myself of the thought. Oh no. Sirius effing Black.

I catch up to him when he's almost to the outskirts of the room and clear my throat. He freezes for a moment and then turns around.

"That's a much better sweater, Moony." He compliments and I try not to blush.

"What did you do?" I ask, and he shrugs. God he's so careless. Mhm. Wait, no. Be angry! Dammit, Remus, anger! "Sirius, I'm seri…I'm not joking. You tell me what it is you did to these poor people." His jawline is mesmerizing. I've never met anyone or seen anyone who was so devastatingly handsome when he smiled. At times, it was was so easy to lose myself in his face- not just his eyes, which I also loved- but his entire expression. It was so much of everything at the same time- but when he smiled, his joy and elation was always right there and evident and I would do anything I could to keep that smile on his face. Except let him get away with this.

"It's my life's work…" he whined, but I was resilient against his adorable, manipulating little tone. I grabbed him when he tried to turn away and instead he sighed, took a quick survey of those around us, and then launched his offensive plan. "Okay. It's this potion I invented. You know how great I am at potions…" he was damn terrible, only subject he could never get a grip on. "Well…I designed it in theory…Lily…Lily brewed it for me. It's called Mistletoe Potion."

"Mistletoe potion…Oh Merlin. Does this explain why everyone has all but morphed into a rabbit?"

"It's like that muggle drug, ecstasy. Except everything is completely harmless. The only people who haven't consumed it are you, Lily, James and I."

"You gave some to PETER?" I ask, aghast? Peter cannot handle it. Peter has never even had his hand touched by a female, let alone a dance with one. "And if it's so safe, why didn't Lily take it herself?" Sirius smiles only cryptically.

"Well…she's taken it now that I gave her and James a tainted glass." Bold. Bold move, Black. But there's a part of me that is wildly disappointed that it wasn't deemed necessary to give me a glass, as well. I would have liked an excuse to be overtly sexual. It was so very against my nature, and really, it would have been quite an uproar- and quite an excuse. But, no matter. I'll just start collecting those first editions now. Really should go for some Charlotte Bronte, too. Would look great on my book shelf. I walk away from Sirius into the kitchen- the only room which has fallen virtually silent- and raid the table. Excellent. Figs, pumpkin pie and most importantly, chocolate-peppermint imps. Ooh. And firewhiskey. An excellent nosh. I throw myself at the table and begin to inhale these lovely goodies of nourishment. Nom.

Peter now walks into my greedy, self-indulgent, gluttonous deterioration of these goodies and promptly begins to join me, stating that this was an excellent idea. We feast in silence for a few minutes and I happen to glance at the time. It was only then that I also caught the sight of Peter's fat, warbling cheeks, his puffy lips and stubby fingers, holding a doughnut and licking the inner circle. Suddenly, this hedonistic food romp just turned incredibly awkward and disgusting. There was no other room to retreat to, and my chocolate and whiskey was only half-done- so I tried to get his attention by clearing my throat, but it was evident that Sirius' potion worked a little too well on Peter, who's highest desire was to die from a sugar coma. I groaned and made a small plate for myself and retreated to the last place I could think of- outside. It was cold now without robes, but it was also comfortable- I had been feeling overheated because of the whiskey, the crowd- the situation. So I finished my last chocolate in silence, and stared at the glass I had poured. I want a cigarette. Fearful that the Potters will see me (they truly hated when I smoked, as they did with all of us, but I had the weakest constitution about it) I retreat to the side of their house where there are no windows.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." Sirius says. I stare at him for a quick, with my whiskey courage rising up, but I don't answer and instead light up a cigarette. "I suppose you think it was a horrid trick, and you can't believe that we did it."

"No." I answer. "I can believe you did it. I'm not really sure how you managed to convince Lily to do it. That's what's stumping me."

"Well…I…Remus, it's really quite simple if you really think about it. She wanted to help me. Everyone here is now on some sort of sexual bent and they are focused on their own pleasures. It means you can do practically anything in front of them, and they'd never notice. You have one night, I have one night, where we can do anything we want." I swallow my thoughts that are rising up from my throat, and instead ask something else- anything else other than what I really want to ask.

"So, why did you give it to Lily and James then?"

"Oh, that, well- they just need to bone and get it over with. I thought it would just ease their situation."

"Merlin, Sirius…that's…that's just wrong on so many levels."

"Maybe they'll recreate the scene plastered across Lily's boobies."

"Stop. Now."

"Want to dance?" Sirius asks me, boldly. He's not smiling. And it's hurting me.

"Sure." I answer, with less elation then I feel, trying to remain calm.

"With me?" He adds, and I stop only for a second.

"No. With Peter." He smiles and nods back towards the house.

"That'll only work if you hook a doughnut around your candy cane."

"I've got lots of frosting and a couple of sugar plums; but I'm not exactly equipped for anything more."

"Remus, that's about the dirtiest thing I've ever heard you say. And really, I'm quite elated by it." I stomp out my cigarette and follow him slowly, divinely, back into the house. Once we were inside, I took a deep breath, but it was as Sirius said. Everybody was so consumed by who they were with and what they were doing, they hardly noticed the two of us. I gather with him towards the middle of the room, where most couples are still gyrating against each other and look at him uncomfortably. Of course, that's what I'd like to do. But having no experience of the such with anyone, let alone the man of my obsession, leads me to think it's not exactly my strongest suit and should be avoided at all costs. He locks me in eye contact and holds out his hand, and really- the situation sits in. The questions I have not yet asked. The thing I'm not questioning the most. How? Why? When? Is this really happening? How can it be really happening? Sirius doesn't say anything more and though there's a part of me that things the situation is really worth analyzing, I can't bring myself to. I don't want to ruin it. This is my chance. My chance not to die alone and be devoured by starving goblins and the like. I take his hand and he pulls me close. I expect to start moving against each other rapidly, like a sand-paper smoothing out wood, but instead, he pulls me closer to him and we just slowly start rotating.

"What's your favorite Christmas song?" he asks. I try not to think about it too hard.

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas…" I whisper, picturing the voice of Frank Sinatra. Sirius whistles softly, and it comes on. Isn't this moment just magical.

"Good choice. It's nice for a little change of pace."

"Mhm." I saw, and then I realize we're now dancing to the right kind of music. I rest my hand on his shoulder, feeling awkward and out of place, unsure how to move and what's wrong and what's right because…well, it's Sirius. And we're men. And I don't even know how to dance. His other hand is wrapped in mine and I feel like crying, almost. It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.

"Moony, you're making me hunch. Put your head on my shoulder." Methodically, I obey- and I realize that it's the most comfortable place to be. "There. It's easier to dance that way, as well.

"Says you. I can't even dance. I'm glad no one's watching."

"It wouldn't matter to me even if everyone was." Sirius says, easily. I mull over that thought. "Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more…through the years we all will be together…" His voice is melty, husky- not trained or perfect, but it's for me, and just me, and therefore, it is the best thing I've ever heard in my life.

"What happens when this song ends?" I ask, praying that it never will.

"Something else will come on, and we can keep doing this."

"Why did you do it, Sirius?" I can't hold it back any longer. The answer scares me, but I can't enjoy the moment without knowing more about it, why it's mine-

"Because. I wanted you to spend this night with me, and not anyone else, and not sulk, and to be yourself…You look great in that jumper, by the way. I really wasn't kidding. Although you smell a little like James now and it's freaking me out a bit."

"I'm sorry." I murmur. "At least it beats the reindeer one."

"Don't be sorry. I guess in many ways, it just makes me want to take it off you ever more." Where did my life go? How did it change so drastically? I can't help but feeling many things at once- ecstatic, hyper, mellow, miffed.

"Clearly, I'm not exactly offended by all these advances, Padfoot; but I am a little curious where they all arise from and how you can really just be this bold without asking me a single thing."

"I can point out where they 'rise' from, if you'd like." I shake my head and blush, but I don't leave. I can't leave. I've never felt so happy in my life. "But…I don't know, Remus. Sometimes you can just feel it when something is right. Like Lily and James. And Peter and the pumpkin. I didn't have to question if you would like it because I've always known. It's just a matter of when the timing would be right."

"You're a right git." I say, firmly. "You've had these suspicions for a while, but you've kept me in the dark." He tilted his mouth closer to my ear.

"All the time, knowing you're a bed away from me, seeing you laugh, seeing you happy- seeing you upset, knowing that all I want to do is touch you, hold you…trying to dress you earlier, trying to keep my goddamn mind off of you while I'm on top of you. You're so damn rational and touchy. I never wanted to do it wrong and make you feel pressured. It's torture. It's torture knowing that after tonight, we're still going have to be private to a degree."

"Well, of course. But to a degree." I say, mildly. "Have…so…Lily knows?"

"And James…" Sirius says. I almost frown but I think about it. "He doesn't care. It's James. He'd rather die then lose one of us. He accepted your lycanthropy, it's hard to imagine that he'd really have a problem with this."

"True," I concede, "when you put it in that light." Sirius picks up his hand and glances at his watch and then groans. I feel it in the vibration of his chest and I know then there is nothing better.

"The potion wears off in thirty seconds." My heart stops. "We have thirty seconds to do whatever you want."

"I want to be near you."

"How near?"

"Oh, I'd say considerably close." Sirius opens his mouth to say something else, but something catches both of our eyes. Instinctively, I still pull away from him even though I notice that it is Lily and James. Lily is crimson in color and James has no expression on his face.

"Hey, Remus…" she says, giving me a kind smile; however, she rounds on Sirius as if there is another person inside of her who cannot wait a moment to shout what she has to say. "I thought we agreed that we would not be drinking any of the potion, Black." She states. She has reverted back to calling him by his last name.

"I don't even know what potion she's talking about, Sirius." James says, hoping that maybe for once Sirius is not to be blamed for his actions but he says nothing to James.

"We did, Lily. What I did was wrong. But you helped me give it to everyone else. I figured you'd want to know what it was like to taste your own invention."

"You INVENTED the potion, Lily?"

"It was Black's idea! All I did was brew it for him."

"And improve it."

"You brewed a sex potion?" James asked, aghast. "You. Right here. You?"

"Me…" Lily said, holding her hand across her face. "I know it was wrong, but Sirius came to me about…well…about"

"Oh, don't worry, I've already been filled in." I say, casually.

"Well, not quite yet- you kind've ruined the filling pa-"

"But you…you did it…to help Sirius and Remus? Why?"

"Because…well…it was so sad! Sirius really wanted to have a night with Remus, and Remus would never admit it- no offense, Remus- and despite what you think, they both are my friends, and they're your friends and I thought it would…well, I thought it'd…"

"Make me happy?" James suggests, hesitantly. She nods.

"Do you hate me for drugging your friends, your neighbors and even your family?" I haven't ever seen James look at a woman the same way he looked at Lily Evans. But even in this moment there was something more powerful and resonating then ever before. I realized that everything before had been puppy love, obsession and some serious pining for this woman before me. But in this moment, in this time, in this room- it had changed. He seriously loved her. It was the first time James would ever know what it meant to be in love with someone, and he took it graciously, smiling, and he didn't say it in front of us, but he leads Lily slowly outside, holding her hand and telling her that he just wanted to be alone with her for a moment to say what he had to say.

No one else seems to notice what had occurred to them; in fact, since they had already began their heathen ways, most everyone continued- except for Amy and Andy who seemed shocked at the display they had been putting on before of Santa and Mrs. Claus. The music has continued to stay slow, but I look at Sirius and he charms it to go back to the way it was- louder, more dance-worthy- and we follow each other like children to the kitchen.

"Cuppa tea?" I ask him, and he nods. "Oh, and Remus?" I turn. "I'll take two sugar plums with that." I turn back around to look out the window above the sink where I'm filling the kettle with water. I realize that there is nothing in the world that could make me regret or wish this night had gone differently.

"Sirius?"

"Mhhm?"

"Can we leave?" I ask, shyly. He hesitates a moment.

"Where do you want to go?" he questions.

"Just…upstairs." There is an unmovable silence of about thirty seconds. I begin to panic but then I replay what has happened tonight and a more pleasant thought crosses my mind. I am sex god. Huzzah! Will not be unwrapping my gifts alone. I have achieved. I, Remus Lupin, werewolf, age seventeen, musky brown hair and plain brown eyes with big brains, tiny body and many scars have been un-friened-zoned by the handsomest male in the world.

"Are you sure? There's still the ugliest jumper contest."

"I'm sure. I couldn't win, anyways."

"But I could."

"Oh yes; your black and purple angels."

"Hey now, they're holy."

"Amen to that." I said. "As a gay wizard, I'm very cautious about not offending the holiness of the angels."

"Righto…well, march right on up those steps, get on your knees, and then we'll see if I can make you beg for mercy."

"Oh really? Well…we'll see if I can get you to say 'hallelujah'…"