2019
Harry sipped his eggnog and looked eagerly around the room. It was his favorite time of Christmas day. The sun was setting, the presents had been torn apart as though a herd of hippogriffs had celebrated Christmas at the Burrow, the hooligans they called their children were wreaking havoc upstairs, and the tradition they had started over two decades ago was about to carry on through another year. Someone nudged him hard in the ribs.
"Who is it this year?" Ron asked. He wore a bright orange Chudley Cannons jersey and a fedora with a large feather that hung in his eyes. Rose and Hugo had obviously teamed up to turn their father into the worst dressed wizard in Britain. Harry could hardly look at him without laughing.
"Sirius, I think," Harry said in an undertone. They'd never assigned the people responsible for a round of hilarity, but it seemed to go in a certain order nonetheless. "All the kids are upstairs?"
"Think so," Ron shrugged. He was looking a little fuzzy around the edges, as though he'd had about four of the spiked drinks.
Harry leaned back with a content sigh. Everyone had made it this year. Even Luna and Rolf. Their wildness and wanderlust had perhaps been tamed by the surprise arrival of twins. Speaking of twins... he let his gaze rest on Ginny. She didn't immediately notice; she and Hermione were speaking very quickly and quietly in the corner. Harry's smile spread unchecked across his face. His wife was luminescent with happiness and joy, and he knew exactly what brought that extra radiance. Lily, their youngest, was already attending Hogwarts, but the time seemed just about right to have another child.
Ginny caught the wave of emotion from him, met his eyes, and winked.
"Ahem," Sirius stood up and cleared his throat. Harry reluctantly looked away from his wife and turned his attention to his godfather. "I have something to confess," he said in a soft voice. The room practically vibrated from suppressed hilarity. Fred and George, who weren't too old to get into mischief, were already chortling.
"This ought to be good," Remus said loudly.
"Whatever it is, Sirius, you can tell us," Bill said, sincerity practically dripping from his voice.
"Thanks," Sirius said, looking greatly relieved; he was by far one of the better actors of the group. Charlie had tried to do it last year, and had been unable to speak through the laughter. Though that might have been a prank from Gred and Forge. He scuffled his feet, sighed, looked down at the ground... up at the ceiling. His long suffering wife sighed loudly, though she eyed him rather fondly. "My confession..."
"Yes?" said Fred and George together. Harry hadn't forgotten that they'd been the originators of this particular family tradition, on that long ago day when Ron and Ginny had finally forgiven their family.
"I'm Merlin," Sirius said heavily. He held up his hand, as though warding off denials. "No, no, let me explain." He gave Severus a wide-eyed look, but Harry saw the slyness in them nonetheless. He wondered if his godfather was actually capable of looking innocent. "Blackhart begged me to do it," he explained. Ron openly started to laugh when Sirius wrung his hands. "Blackhart, I'm so sorry for betraying you like this; you know our friendship means the world to me."
Severus rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it does, Padfoot." And then he did the unexpected, though after all these years of a cordial Severus Snape, Harry ought not to be surprised. "You don't have to do this, you know."
Harry laughed. He glanced around the room. Only Percy was not openly engaged in laughter of some kind, though a small smile hovered over his lips. Even the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic (a position not filled by Dolores Umbridge, thankfully, but Percy's wife Audrey) was giggling.
"The truth is," Sirius heaved a huge sigh. "The truth is... I don't deserve that Order of Merlin, First Class," he pointed rather dramatically at the mantlepiece, where the award stood. It had been there since the day Merlin had had it awarded to him in a rather private ceremony. Harry did not harbor any illusions about one day being able to give the award to the man (or woman) who had actually been Merlin. But it stood as a reminder of their mysterious benefactor. The blue flames wove and danced inside the blown glass. "See... no one knew why I went. I didn't go to help."
"Oh yeah?" Fred said, grinning broadly.
Sirius ignored this. "I didn't go to get the Horcrux from Gringotts, or to walk with Harry when he thought he was going to die," he let his head hang down as though ashamed.
"Why did you go then, Sirius?" Ginny asked.
"I did it for Blackhart," Sirius said. "It was the end of his life. It was his last wish."
Harry had a feeling he knew where this was going. Apparently Severus did as well. "Oh for the love of Merlin," he said. He rolled his eyes, though Harry thought he might have seen his lips twitch.
"He had dragon pox," Sirius said dramatically. "The Healers did everything they could. Me and Charity agreed that we'd take him home... let him die in peace... but Blackhart had one last request. How could I deny him?"
"You're obviously the soul of charity, Uncle Sirius," said Teddy Lupin, who had joined in the festivities several years earlier. He and Victoire were both old enough to know the full truth of what had happened (they had all decided that it could wait until the children were seventeen years old), and greatly enjoyed mocking all of them. Sirius' son would join the mockery of the adults next year, Harry had no doubt, though for now he sat stiffly in one of the chairs, staring at them as if they'd gone mad.
"I went back," Sirius said portentously. "Using the Trojan Horse method. I used Snape's body. He knew how much luck I had with the ladies, you see"--he flashed a grin when his son groaned loudly--"and knew that I'd use my charm to help him lose his virginity!"
Despite the fact that he'd been expecting it, Harry sprayed his eggnog.
"That's really why I was in the room of loooooooove," Sirius told Harry. "I figured that Blackhart's poor body needed all the help it could get."
"This from the man who named his son Elvendork?" Severus sneered. "And I'll have you know--"
"Stop!" El said, grimacing painfully. "Please don't finish that sentence. I'm begging you."
"So toss everything you thought you knew about Merlin--"
"Not that we ever knew much," Hermione said; she would have sounded bitter if she hadn't been smiling.
"Right out the window," Sirius said. "Defenestrate it. Because I am Merlin, and I went back in time to get Blackhart laid!"
Harry laughed so hard that his sides ached. Ron was slapping his knees, and Arthur's face was bright red. Even Molly was giggling, though she looked reluctant about it. Her eyes kept straying over to Victoire; Harry thought she might be thinking the conversation a bit inappropriate for her oldest grandchild. It was sort of sweet that she assumed that Teddy and Victoire didn't know each other fully. Harry wished he had the same illusions, but his godson had come to him for advice.
"Who is Merlin?"
Harry jerked his head around. His second son, Al, stood in the now open doorway. His face was alive with curiosity and suspicion. Harry felt suddenly guilty; Al would not take it well when he was told he was too young to know. In many ways, he was a lot like Harry, though (and this was painful for Harry to admit) he was a lot smarter.
"You're supposed to be upstairs, Al," Ginny said.
"I just came to ask if Emmy could come over tomorrow," he said defensively. "Who is Merlin?"
"No one you need to worry about just now," Percy said.
