"Where's Dumbledore?" Romulus Lupin asked, looking around the room.
"Not coming." Said Adelaide, pointedly ignoring the giggles from the children around her.
"Not coming!" Romulus cried, "Not coming on Christmas?!" He was sad and disappointed.
Dumbledore couldn't stand to see the man disappointed as he was, and he leapt out of the closet with an energy that belied his advancing years. He grasped the man's hand and shook it and the gaggle of children cheered and laughed. They followed Remus out of the room to wash up for dinner.
"How did little Remus behave?" Adelaide asked Romulus. She admitted that although the boy seemed well by day, he awoke in the night with nightmares of the attack.
"As good as gold, he was." Romulus looked to the washroom door and lowered his voice so only Adelaide and Dumbledore could hear him. But the thought had been worrying him as well. "He's changed, he gets so thoughtful sitting by himself. He doesn't talk to anyone he doesn't know anymore. We met Hagrid and his son Rubeus on the way, and Remus wouldn't come out from behind me to say a proper hello. Rubeus is just as large as a large grown man, and hairy. I think that put Remus off a little. I know it still troubles him, though he won't make a complaint to it."
Romulus's voice shook as he said it, the joviality gone from his face for a fleeting moment. "But he's getting better! I can see him getting stronger as the days pass, he'll be fine!" Romulus forced the cheerfulness back into his voice with effort. The children clamored back into the room.
Remus was helped to his stool by the others and his father looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. To Sirius, the gesture was a brave one. He knew now the story of Remus's injuries. Fenrir Greyback had bitten the child in the dark of night to make Romulus pay for opposing him. Romulus had stormed into the room and faced the great werewolf as he tried to drag Remus from his bed. "Bite them when they're young and raise them properly!" Fenrir's mantra went, and he had fully intended to take Remus with him. The man that sat before Sirius looked too old, to frail to ever stand to a beast like that, but for his son he had. Now work was scarce with the enemies he had, and food and money were lacking. The man rolled the sleeves of his robe up, giving himself an even shabbier look. Another roar of noise was heard from the children as they retrieved the meager goose that was the meal.
Much talk erupted at the state of the goose! Everyone at the table mearly drooled at the sight of it! The children all partiently waited, some stuffing their empty spoons in their mouth in anticipation. To see the small bird, almost the size of a Cornish hen, one would have never thought it able to feed the mass of people around the table, but it was held in such high esteem that no one said anything about the size or inadequacies of such a feast. For any Lupin to utter the words, it would be heresay.
Everyone went into a flurry of movement, Adelaide heated the gravy in a saucepan, the children mashed the potatoes and readied the applesauce, Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured hot plates for the meal, nothing fancier than Adelaides, but a perfect match to her helter-skelter collection of mismatched plates. Romulus took Remus and seated him next to himself at the corner of the table, and all the children went to fetch chairs and stools for themselves, almost hovering over them with anticipation. Adelaide served everyone, and seated herself.
Dumbledore in his usual manner said a few words before the meal, nothing long-winded, he had abstained from food all day waiting for this meal, and the feast began.
There never was such a goose. As feeble as it seemed upon the platter, it was filling. Stuffing issued forth and accompanied every bite. No one was left unsatisfied by the meager portions, and Sirius marveled at the vigor in which they ate. Sirius was used to lavish meals at that age, and was surprised that not a child complained at the cheapness of the meal. It was a testament to the goodwill of the season, and the thankfulness of all mouths being fed. Romulus hated to admit it, but a meal such as this was rare indeed and would set him back weeks in pay.
Adelaide rose and blushed as she went into the kitchen. She had prepared a pudding that was a handed down recipe to her family. She had to buy sencond rate products to make it, and haggled with many shop keepers to acquire all of the proper materials. She had set it on the windowsill of the kitchen to cool, and her nervousness reached a peak as she went to retrieve it. What if someone had stolen it from it's spot? What if she dropped it on her way back in? What if the ingredients weren't proper? What if the vanilla was bitter? All these thoughts Sirius was suddenly privy to, and he wondered at the woman's nervousness over a small dish of pudding. It was Remus's favorite, one that was rare in the Lupin home, indeed Remus had it only once in his life, and never forgot the taste. Sirius gaped as it dawned on him that Remus even passed over the pudding at Hogwarts, probably in respect for the very dish that was walking past him to the table.
The pudding was taken from the pan it cooled in and the smell of it filled the room. Everyone's mouths watered again at the sight of it, and the group hushed as Adelaide served each of them a tiny piece. It was the greatest gift of the holiday. The smell of pudding and the normally cold room filling with warmth from the people within it, everyone smiled as a silent understanding went through the room.
"This is the greatest pudding you've ever made in all the time I've known you Addie!" Romulus stated in all seriousness.
"I'm glad you all like it. I had my doubts about whether or not-" She started, but was cut off by the grateful looks of everyone in the room. A weight was removed from her shoulders over the success of her meal and she heaved a sigh of relief.
At last dinner was done, and all the plates vanished to the sink for cleaning and they all gathered comfortably around the fire. They roasted meager chestnuts and Romulus pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey he had saved for the occasion. He passed around glasses to all, and Adelaide retrieved a small amount of butterbeer for the children. Dumbledore raised his glass and proposed a toast.
"A merry Christmas to all, my dears! Gods bless us all!"
"God bless us, every one!" Remus said from his little stool next to his father. Romulus took his son's small hand in his own and smiled at the boy. He dreaded anything should happen to the boy, and cringed at the thought of anyone taking him. A guilty voice whispered from the back of the man's mind, reminding him that he had almost lost him once before, and it was plain for all eyes to see that he was burdened by the reminder.
"Peter, tell me if Remus will live." Sirius said. Surely he was being shown this for a reason. He had to know what was going to happen to his friend. He knew he grew up to be a man, but what after that?
"I see a vacant seat." Peter responded looking grim, "I see a table and a girl with pink hair sobbing. If these shadows remain unaltered by the furture, Remus will be no more."
"No, No!" Sirius yelled. "Say that's not true! Say he will be spared!"
"As I said, if these shadows remain unaltered by the future, none other than my race will find him here. He'll be gone from your world!" Peter added with a sneer, "If he's going to die, he better do it, and thus control the surplus population!"
Sirius hung his head. His father's choice words when it came to dealing with blood traitors and muggles. How had Sirius grown in that house to be the man that he became? His father's words haunted him every where he went.
"Man," Peter started, "Who was your father to judge the surplus? He tried to judge the men that would live and die. To me it would seem that your father didn't deserve to live more than any of a million boys maimed as young Remus was."
Sirius hung his head again. He knew his father was involved in pretty bad stuff, and he knew that a lot happened that he had no idea of, but tonight Sirius was witnessing a lot that had to do with his father, and for some reason he was bearing the burden that his father should. This guilt was not meant to be Sirius's, it was meant for his father. His ears perked up as he heard his own proper name spoken in this small room.
"To Mister Black!" Romulus said, holding his glass high, "The founder of this feast!"
"The founder of the feast, indeed." Adelaide said, her face becoming red and angry. "I wish he were here right now, I've a mouthful to tell him."
Romulus looked at his wife with sadness in his eyes. "It's Christmas." He knew that his dealings with Mister Black had inadvertently caused his to fall into ill-favor with Fenrir Greyback, and the thought that the man was responsible for his son's disfigurement weighed heavy on his mind. But he strove to instill the best qualities in his children, and they all obligingly raised their meager glasses.
"I'll drink to his health for your sake, and only on this day." Adelaide added. "To Mister Black."
After this small exchange, a palor seemed to hang in the room for a good five minutes, as just the thought of Sirius's family had drained the cheer from the room. It was now a cold room, despite the fire and bodies.
Dumbledore watched it all, keeping in the background wich was not at all normal for him, a small sad twinkle in his eye.
After it had passed, there was more cheer in the room than there previously was and Sirius marveled at the heartiness of these people. They seemed to bounce back from such a funk with ease. Romulus talked about how his elder son was going to go into business with him soon. A scholar, learned all himself with dusty books provided by Dumbledore, and a Hogwarts education that lacked anything lower than outstandings. Dumbledore talked about the school, and the plans he had for it in the future, and everyone laughed at his small jokes about his age and the weariness of being around young people all the time, but they knew that he would have it no other way.
Remus stood toward the end of the gathering and sang a small song he had been practicing about a boy lost in the snow. His voice was almost angelic, and everyone in the room loved the song. Remus was very proud of himself.
There was nothing immedeiately notable about the sight that Sirius had seen, these were common people, shabby clothes, shabby house, meager food. A plight that he had not become aware of until much later in his life. They were content in their surroundings, happy with one another, and peaceful in their own home. Sirius marveled at the way they seemed to take on an even happier ambiance under the torch of the spirit. As the scene faded, Sirius kept his eyes on Remus until he was no longer in his sight.
