Edited February 18.
14. Nor may we refer to Professor Dumbledore as 'Santa Claus' (that Muggle bloke that breaks into houses).
The Marauders sat in the Great Hall, eating a late breakfast (or an early lunch, as Remus preferred) while discussing the finer points of Muggle folklore.
"Okay, so what you're trying to tell me is, little Muggles think this fat bloke named Santa Claus breaks into their houses, eats their cookies, and drinks their milk," James said incredulously. He stabbed a sausage and shoved it in his mouth.
"No fat bloke's getting my cookies," Sirius muttered darkly. He grabbed a cookie from the table and ate it quickly.
"But the Muggles think it's okay for him to break in and do all those things," Remus explained. "He leaves presents for them."
The other three's mouths dropped, and with them came James's sausage and Sirius's cookie. "No way!" they said together.
"What kind of presents?" Peter asked, suddenly enraptured by the story. Peter, James, and Sirius leaned in toward Remus.
"Well, any kind," Remus said with a shrug. "Whatever the children ask for. Well, except when they've been bad."
"What happens when they've been bad?" the three asked in unison.
"They get coal instead of real presents."
"That's cruel and unusual punishment!" Sirius declared after shoving another cookie in his mouth. "Just for that, he doesn't get my cookies."
"So what does this Santa bloke look like?" James asked. "He's fat, but is he as fat as ol' Sluggie?"
Remus chuckled. "Yes, he is. And he has white hair and a white beard."
"Wow, he even looks like a child predator," Sirius said. He ate yet another cookie.
"Hey, mates," said Peter quietly. "Look."
The rest of the Marauders followed his gaze to the staff table. They huddled close together as they observed Professor Dumbledore, whispering to each other conspiratorially.
"No way," James said breathlessly. "It's not possible."
Remus snorted. "Of course it's not. He isn't fat."
"But he has the hair and beard," Sirius whispered.
"But he's not fat," Remus repeated, at full volume.
Sirius smacked the back of his head. "Shut up, he can't know we're on to him!"
"Umm, ow?" Remus said, rubbing his shoulder.
"Haven't you heard of a diet?" James asked. "That's him. It has to be."
"So, what, does he just gain all that weight back in time for Christmas?" Remus asked. "That's just silly."
"No, he doesn't gain it all back for Christmas," Sirius said, letting an unspoken 'stupid' color the tone of his words.
"He gains it all back because Christmas is his reward for being so good on his diet the rest of the year. He eats all the cookies and gets fat. Then he starts the diet all over again," said James matter-of-factly.
Peter wasn't buying it either. "Mates, that sounds really far-fetched, even to me."
Remus, thankful for the backup, said "Thank you, Peter! I'm sorry, but Dumbledore is not Santa Claus."
Unfortunately for Remus, all Sirius and James heard out of that was Dumbledore, is, Santa, and Claus. James jumped from his seat and pointed to the staff table. "SANTA CLAUS!" he shouted accusingly. He ran from the Great Hall, shouting nonsense about child predators.
Sirius's eyes darted around wildly. Finally he took the rest of the cookies from the table and ran to the door, all the while screaming, "YOU'LL NEVER GET MY COOKIES!"
Remus and Peter sighed before following them out, muttering things about being the only sensible ones of the Marauders.
"We'll have to save their arses later, you know," Peter said.
Remus smirked. "Who said we had to do that?"
Professor Dumbledore chuckled from his place at the staff table. Professor McGonagall, not so amused, followed them out armed with detentions.
