This story is dedicated to the wonderful friends I've made in 2014, and to the wonderful friends I've managed to keep.

To Prongs, my friend of many years. Thanks for staying.

To Padfoot, who found me in a dark time and kept me going.

To Ingrid, who comforted me in my thoughts.

To Summer, a light shining at the end of this dark tunnel I'm in.

To Liam, whose remarks make me happy.

To Kevin, whose ideas make me smile.

And to everyone who has entered my life.

Happy Holidays,

Moony.

Snow fell in spiraling flurries. Candles flickered through frosted windows and laughter drifted through the walls. A tall man with wild hair retold a story with great vigor as a beautiful, fiery woman held a small child with sparkling green eyes. The moon and stars listened, their hands clasped together on top of an old table, fingers entwined. A small man laughed with every word as he eagerly absorbed the man with wild hair's story. A weary man smiled and sighed, wrapping his arm around his wife, who held a small child with pudgy fingers, as they turned their attention towards the man and his story. The room was once again filled with laughter as the man with wild hair brought his story to a close.

"James, dear, will you get me more pumpkin juice?" asked the fiery woman. The tall man with wild hair, who we now know to be James, smiled.

"Sure thing."

The stars laughed at James' efforts to please the woman. "Oh, Prongs," he teased, "ever the one to serve, are we now?"

"Shut up, Pads," James replied with a smile.

"Hm. Sirius, will you get me more pumpkin juice?" the moon asked. The stars, whose name varies from Pads to Padfoot to Sirius, jumped up quickly.

"Of course!" Sirius responded. The moon chuckled.

"See," the moon responded, "it is but common nature to please your loved ones."

The man sitting with his arm around his wife smiled. "Would you like more pumpkin juice, Alice?"

"Oh, no thanks," Alice responded, rubbing her thumb over the small child with pudgy fingers' hand.

The small man filled with laughter, whose name happened to be Peter, smirked at the group. "You are all lovesick, and it's hilarious."

"Oh, hush," said the fiery woman, Lily, "I'm not lovesick. I just want pumpkin juice."

A small moment of silence filled the house. All that was heard was the wind outside and the small huffs of breath from the two now-sleeping children.

Then, almost as if they were waiting for a cue, the group burst into laughter. All tension was released and each member smiled and gasped for air through frantic giggles. Pumpkin juice was properly distributed and the stories began once again. Flames cracked and sparked in the fireplace and nine stockings hung from the hearth. Christmas lights glowed from a tree in the living room, the ornaments hanging tall over piles of gifts. The snow outside continued to fall and the candles continued to flicker. A sign on the door read:

The Marauders

Merry Christmas

-M, W, P, and P