Thursday, December 1, 1977
Sirius woke to the sound of whistling. Despite the questionable skill of the whistler, Sirius recognized the tune even in his half-awake state and groaned. He rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head to block out the sound, but it was no use, as the whistler seemed to somehow sense his attempts and responded by whistling louder.
"Prongs, it's too bloody early for this," Sirius muttered, pulling open his curtains to glare out at James.
"No it's not," James replied. His usual cheerful morning grin was extra obnoxious today, and Sirius was tempted to throw a pillow at him, although he knew this would do nothing to dampen James's spirits. "Do you know what day it is, Padfoot?"
Sirius sighed. "Is it torture your mates by whistling before they've had a chance to wake up properly day? Or grin like a bloody idiot day? Wait, sorry, that's every day for you. Is it annoy Padfoot day? Although that holiday seems to come around about once a week…"
"Nope," James said, still grinning.
"It's December 1st," Peter said, yawning as he emerged from behind his curtains. He wore his pink pajamas, and his hair was still rumpled from sleep. "The official start of the Christmas season."
"Correct, Pete," James said, giving him an appreciative nod. "So it's not, in fact, too early to whistle Jingle Bells. And you may as well wipe that look off your face, Padfoot, because you can't be grumpy at Christmas time."
Sirius threw back the covers and got out of bed, his face still drawn into a scowl. "It's not the official start of the Christmas season. It's just the earliest we'll let you start decorating and singing bloody Jingle Bells, because if you had it your way you'd start after Halloween."
"Complaining just encourages him, Padfoot, you know that," Remus said with a resigned smile. "It's best to just embrace the Christmas spirit."
"Do I look like I'm in the fucking mood to embrace the Christmas spirit?" Sirius asked, eyebrows raised. "If I wake up tomorrow and hear you whistling again, I'm hexing you."
"Bad luck, Pads, there's no hexing allowed at Christmas, either," James said in the same painfully cheerful tone. "But don't worry, I'll do God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs tomorrow to mix it up." When Sirius continued to glare at him, he laughed and gave him a bracing pat on the shoulder. "Cheer up, it's going to be a great day."
Sirius had his doubts about this, but he felt better after consuming large servings of coffee and bacon. He was considering a third cup of coffee when his owl dropped two letters in front of him bearing the familiar handwriting of Fleamont and Euphemia. Suspicious, he tore open the envelopes and scanned the letters, feeling both touched and exasperated as his eyes traveled over the parchment.
"Prongs," he said, looking up at James and holding up the letters, "why are Mum and Dad sending me letters?"
James set down his half-eaten toast and shrugged. "Parents do that now and then. They've sent plenty of letters before, so I assume they've sent these ones for the usual reasons," he said in a patient tone before returning to his toast.
"Don't give me that," Sirius snapped. "They usually send a letter addressed to both of us, or include individual letters in the same envelope. But this time they've both written just to me."
"Well I dunno, Padfoot, I suppose it's confirmation that you're really the favorite," James said through a mouthful of toast.
"I can't imagine why, when you're so well-mannered and charming," Lily said, grinning.
"Thanks, Evans, that's kind of you to say," James said, pretending to miss her sarcastic tone.
Sirius ignored their banter. "I don't appreciate you telling them whatever it is you told them," he said. "Mum's written a bunch of rubbish about how she's here if I want to talk, which was a bloody waste of ink because she knows I don't talk about my feelings."
"Well, that's odd," James said, running a hand through his hair and frowning. "I wonder why she'd say something like that."
"Yes, it's a real mystery," Sirius said, shaking his head. "And dad's is mostly about Quidditch-"
"Well there's nothing suspicious about that," James interrupted.
"Yes there is. He doesn't mention how shit the Cannons are at all, and he wrote more than a page."
"Okay, that's a bit out of character," James admitted. "But maybe he's trying to give them a chance. Like you've always said, they have some decent talent, it's just the bad management and poor work ethic and unsuccessful play execution that makes them so rubbish."
"See, why is bashing the Cannons not banned at Christmas?" Sirius demanded.
James shrugged. "I don't make the rules, mate."
"Yes you do! Anyway, it's clear he's trying to make me feel better, which means you've been telling them things that they don't need to worry about," Sirius said with a sigh. "And I notice you didn't bother to tell them we won't be home for Christmas, which is information they actually do need to know."
"You're not going home for Christmas?" Lily asked. "You didn't tell me that, did you?"
"I wasn't aware," James said, turning to Sirius with a puzzled expression on his face. "Why aren't we going home for Christmas?"
Sirius didn't reply, but cast a meaningful look in Remus's direction.
"Oh..." James said, screwing up his face as he did the mental calculations. "Why didn't I realize that before? You're right, we won't be home for Christmas. I'll write and let them know, and I'll make sure to remind Dad to include extra Cannons bashing in his next letter."
"You're not staying here for Christmas," Remus said. "That's too much to ask, and it's not fair to your parents." He folded up the copy of The Daily Prophet and pasted a casual smile on his face, but the sadness underneath was obvious. "I'll be fine."
Lily's lips moved as she counted the days on her fingers. "Is it…" Her eyes widened and her face filled with sadness. "Is it on Christmas Day?"
"Yes, but it's fine," Remus said. His hand tightened on his goblet, although he didn't lift it to his lips. "It's not a big deal, nobody has to -"
"Don't be stupid, Moony, of course we're not letting you spend Christmas alone," James said. "Mum and Dad won't mind, and they'll save a fortune on food and firewhisky without Sirius there, so it's really a win for everyone."
"I'm staying, too," Lily announced, holding up a hand to stave off Remus's protests. "I'll be glad to miss out on seeing my sister and her fiance."
James beamed at her and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Out of habit Sirius glanced down the table to where Mary sat with Olivia and Ann, trying to catch her eye before realizing they no longer exchanged those sort of knowing looks. Before all of this, James's reaction was the sort of thing that Sirius and Mary would have considered adorable but also vomit-inducing, and the causal intimacy of the gesture gave Sirius such a strong pang of sadness that he had to look away.
"What about you, Pete?" James asked. "You'll stay too, won't you?"
Peter bit his lip and hesitated for a moment before replying, "Er, yeah, I'll stay."
"You don't have to," Remus muttered. The conflicting emotions were evident on his face, and he seemed torn between wanting to smile and feeling physically ill from guilt.
"We know we don't have to," James said before Peter had time to respond. "But we want to. It'll be great. We'll have Exploding Snap tournaments and we'll roast marshmallows over the common room fire and we'll really do the decorations big this year-"
"As opposed to the over-the-top decorations you've done in the past?" Sirius cut in.
James shot him a rude hand gesture and continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. "And we can go sledding or have a snowball war if you like, or we'll provide you with a mountain of chocolate when you'd rather sit around and read all day, and I'll threaten Padfoot with incessant Jingle Bells whistling if he even thinks about smoking in the dormitory."
The smile on James's face was so eager and hopeful that Sirius began to feel optimistic about the Christmas holiday in spite of everything, because James's enthusiasm for Christmas had that effect on people. He found his eyes drifting along the table towards Mary again, and he wondered if she would offer to stay as well, but then he shoved that thought aside and focused his attention on Remus.
"All right," Remus said, and the smile had won out over his guilty expression. "If you're all sure."
"We're sure," James said, and his confident tone left no room for argument. "Just make sure you're all in full-on Christmas mode at all times. It's our last Christmas at Hogwarts, and we're going to make it the best Christmas we've ever had."
Later that day Sirius was settling into his seat at the beginning of Potions when Stacy sat down in her seat beside him and poked his shoulder.
"Are you humming Jingle Bells, Black?" she asked, giggling and leaning in slightly closer than was necessary. "I wouldn't have guessed you're a big Christmas person."
"I fucking hate Christmas," Sirius grumbled. "It's his fault the song's stuck in my head. He's been whistling it all day." He jerked his head in James's direction and scowled.
"That sounds like grumpiness," James said, turning around and flashing Sirius an infuriating grin. "You know the rules."
"'You can't be grumpy at Christmastime,' yeah yeah," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Why don't you turn around and ogle Evans while she brews her potion and give your bloody made-up rules a rest?"
Once James had turned around to watch Lily arrange the various Potions ingredients on the table in front of her, Stacy leaned even closer to Sirius .
"Where've you been lately?" she asked, shifting her leg so it bumped against his. "Too busy being angry at Mary Macdonald to meet up with me?"
"I'm not angry at Macdonald," Sirius said.
Stacy raised her eyebrows in an expression of skepticism.
"I mean, I was angry on Sunday, but I'm no longer angry. Breaking things is incredibly satisfying," he said with a wry smile. "I've mostly been reading the past couple of days. Remus lent me The Hobbit, which I assumed was going to be a bunch of rubbish, but it's actually pretty good."
She tilted her head sideways to look at him. "What's a hobbit?"
"Like a regular person but shorter, and they have weird hairy feet and eat about eight meals a day," Sirius replied. "I think Pete might be part hobbit but he seemed very offended when I suggested it."
Stacy laughed, touching Sirius's shoulder as she did so. "Well, if you get tired of reading, do you fancy meeting up later?"
Sirius felt only indifference at her suggestion, and he was considering declining in favor of another night spent reading when he remembered how he had tried to catch Mary's eye earlier before reality caught up with him. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to have a distraction tonight. And there are worse distractions, as far as distractions go.
"Yeah, all right," he said. "Meet in the usual spot around 8?"
She smiled and let her hand linger on his shoulder for a second longer before pulling away to take her Potions materials from her bag.
"I was also thinking," she began, but before she had time to elucidate what she had been thinking, Slughorn approached their table.
"Miss Tremblay, this is for you," he said, slipping a thick cream envelope onto her desk with a wink. "Invitation to my Christmas party," he added in a stage whisper. "Bring Mr. Black, if you like. I've just invited Miss Evans and Mr. Potter. There'll be a few special guests as well, so you won't want to miss it." He treated them to a conspiratorial smile before returning to the front of the class to start the lesson.
"Well that's interesting that he suggested I bring you. Usually he'll give out invitations right in front of people who aren't invited and just pretend they aren't there. He must want you to come," Stacy said, slitting open the envelope and examining the invitation. "Do you fancy it?"
"Hang on," Sirius said, buying himself time to consider the offer as he retrieved necessary items from the supply closet.
On one hand, it would be an evening of forced Christmas cheer spent wearing fancy clothes and pretending he gave a toss about whatever important guests Slughorn had managed to drum up. On the other hand, there would be good food and probably champagne, and he could bring his flask in case the night grew dull and needed some spicing up. He imagined leaving the common room while Mary looked on from her armchair, admiring him in his dress robes and wondering what outfit Stacy Tremblay would choose for Sirius to remove later in their favorite broom cupboard.
"All right, I suppose I'll go," he said once he had sat down and deposited the Potions ingredients on the table in front of them. "But I'm bringing a flask. And the second it runs out I'm out of there."
Stacy shrugged. "Okay, but what if your flask runs out and you're still having a good time?"
He laughed. "Doubtful, but if that's the case I'll make an exception. Now what were you going to ask me before Slughorn interrupted?"
She blushed and looked down at the table. "Oh, I was going to see if you wanted to go into Hogsmeade with me, but I know it's a lot to ask you to Slughorn's party and to Hogsmeade all at once." She looked up and studied his face, then added hurriedly, "I was thinking we could maybe just meet up for a drink?"
"I'll never say no to a drink," Sirius said, wondering whether Mary would be going to Hogsmeade with Eddie Edgecomb that day. "But no more relationshippy-type invitations for a while, Tremblay. If I walk into that broom cupboard tonight and you ask me to, I dunno, come over for the Christmas holidays to meet your parents or some rubbish, I'm walking out, even if you're standing there naked."
She let her hand rest on his leg under the table for a moment. "All right, I'll write to my parents and tell them you're not coming after all," she said, giggling. "But what if I leave out that part and just wait for you in the broom cupboard naked?"
Sirius spent the rest of class trying to focus on the thought of Stacy naked in a broom cupboard rather than the expression on Mary's face when she discovered his plans to go into Hogsmeade and to Slughorn's party. Much to his chagrin and Stacy's amusement, he found that humming Jingle Bells helped, and ten minutes into class he kicked the leg of James's chair to get his attention.
"Your bloody Christmas songs have infected my brain," he muttered while Stacy rubbed her leg against his under the table and stirred her potion. "You're a prat and I hate you."
"You're welcome," James said, grinning. "Now shut up and enjoy Tremblay groping you under the table, because I need to turn around and admire Evans and maybe pay enough attention to my own potion to keep it from blowing up."
Sirius smiled to himself and turned his attention to his own potion, glad that if things went south at Slughorn's party, he would at least have James and Lily to keep him company.
The prefects mulled around chatting with each other and exchanging puzzled looks. James watched them in amusement, letting the anticipation and mystery build up before the big reveal.
"You're an idiot," Lily remarked, noticing his obvious enjoyment.
"I'm your idiot," he replied, grinning and putting an arm around her.
"Are you just going to stand there being all cutesy, or are you going to tell us why you've called an emergency prefects' meeting?" Stacy asked, crossing her arms. "Some of us have things to do tonight."
"Right, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your important meeting with Sirius in a broom cupboard," James said, running a hand through his hair and raising his eyebrows at her. "Anyway, I called this meeting because as you know, it's December 1st, and there are a couple of Christmas-related issues that couldn't wait."
"That's not an emergency!" Bertram Aubrey said. "I had plans tonight that I had to rearrange because you called a last-minute meeting."
"A standing appointment with your right hand doesn't count as plans, Aubrey," Stacy muttered, smirking.
James ignored her jibe and the indignant glare Aubrey shot back in response. "As I was saying, the first thing I wanted to mention is the Hogsmeade trip. It's set for next weekend, and the notices have already gone up, so everything should be all set for that."
"Not an emergency," Aubrey mouthed, his scowl deepening, but James pretended he hadn't noticed.
"Next," he continued, "tomorrow some of the professors are going to decorate the castle, and we're all expected to help. Now, I already mentioned this last month, but in case anyone forgot, make sure you meet in the Great Hall after classes and Flitwick will be directing us from there."
Farley raised her hand. "What about Quidditch practice?"
James hesitated. "I've, er, decided to give you the night off from practice. I know I don't normally do things like that, but it's Christmas, and this is important."
"I dunno, James," Lily said, glancing sideways to flash him a teasing grin. "Cancelling Quidditch practice - what's next? Taking a day off from running? Sleeping in until after the sun has risen?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Evans," James said, raising his eyebrows to demonstrate how ludicrous he found her suggestions. "Also, Heads of House will be coming around with the signup sheet to stay at school over the holidays, so make sure everyone signs up if they want to stay. And finally…"
He looked around at them, enjoying the expressions of anticipation and curiosity mingled with frowns of irritation and impatience as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Santa hat.
"I thought it would be fun to do something as a group for Christmas, so I've organized a secret Santa gift exchange. I've put all our names in this hat, and everyone is going to pick someone to get a gift for. We're going to have a little party the day before the holidays start, and that's when we'll exchange gifts." He fell silent and stood there waiting for them to react, wearing an eager, earnest grin.
"Ooh, I love it!" Stacy exclaimed. "We can buy the gifts in Hogsmeade next weekend."
"You could've told me this was the emergency prefect business we needed to discuss," Remus said, chuckling. "I thought we were all going to have to do extra patrols or something."
"I didn't want to ruin the surprise, Moony." James rolled his eyes as though this should have been obvious.
"No offense, Potter, but I don't really want to do your secret Santa," Bertram Aubrey said, glancing around the room as though expecting others to agree with him. "Can you just take my name out?"
James shook his head, too cheerful to be offended by his lack of enthusiasm. "Sorry, no can do, Bertie. You'll participate and you'll like it, because it's Christmas, damnit." He turned to Snape, offering him the Santa hat. "Even you, Sevalevadingdong, even though I know you're silently plotting ways to kill me and get away with it."
James held the hat out to Snape and nudged it against his hand when he continued to stare at it in horror as though afraid it might bite his hand. After James had moved on to slapping the hat's pompom against his chest, Snape slapped the hat away and reached inside, pulling out a folded piece of parchment.
"Nice work, Snapdragon," James said, repressing the laughter that bubbled up at Snape's furious expression. "Evans, you go next."
He held out the hat so Lily could choose a name, then walked around to the rest of the group until he was the only one left to pull a name from the hat.
"What if we don't have any bloody idea what sort of gift to buy our person?" Bertram Aubrey asked, clutching his parchment in his hand and wearing a sullen expression.
"Excellent question, Bertie Botts," James said, giving him a thumbs up. "I'm now going to pass around a short survey for everyone to fill out to give your secret Santa some gift ideas. You can take them with you and give them back to me tomorrow. Hang on to the names you just pulled, because your person's answers to the survey should appear there once I activate the spell."
"That's really impressive magic," Donald Fawcett said, looking at James in surprise. "How'd you manage that, when you didn't know which name each person was going to get?"
"I'm sure it's fairly simple once you understand the theory," Lily said, grinning and nudging James. "That's what he says every time I find out he can do some incredibly complex spell that he and Sirius taught themselves just for fun."
The admiration in Lily's voice made James glow with pride as he handed everyone the surveys.
"Wait, you didn't take a name," Bertram Aubrey pointed out when James began to pocket the Santa hat. "You're not getting out of doing this too, Potter."
"I wouldn't dream of trying to get out of it, Bertalicious," James said, chuckling as he felt around inside the hat until he found the final name and unfolded the parchment.
Fuck me in the fuckhole, he thought as he read the name scrawled on the parchment in his own handwriting: Severus Snape.
"You all right?" Lily asked.
James nodded, then refolded the parchment and tucked it into his pocket.
"Don't forget to fill out your surveys and get them to me tomorrow when we meet for decorating," he said, fighting back his irritation, because it was Christmas after all. "Thanks for rearranging your plans to come to a last minute meeting. Oh, and have fun, Tremblay, and tell Sirius I said hi!"
As they strolled hand in hand back to the common room, Lily glanced over at James and raised her eyebrows.
"Who did you get for secret Santa?" she asked.
"I can't tell you, that's against the rules. Although I know you're going to tell me who you got because you can't stand the pressure of keeping secrets."
"That's not true," she protested, wearing an indignant expression that did not quite hide the hint of sheepishness underneath. "I'll keep it a secret. You'll see."
She came to a stop and looked over at him, her face unreadable.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious and marveling that she still had this effect on him.
"I just love the idea of the secret Santa gift exchange, and I love that you called a whole meeting just to make it happen," she said, her eyes shining with unabashed affection. "I know I've been teasing you today about your obnoxious love of Christmas, but it's actually bloody adorable how excited you get."
"Of course it's bloody adorable. I'm a bloody adorable person," he said, leaning in to kiss her.
"Don't tell Remus I said this, because I'm sure it's going to be lovely staying here, but I'm a little sad I won't get to see your house all decorated for Christmas," she said when they resumed their slow walk along the corridor.
James let himself imagine a cozy evening sitting by the fireplace with Lily, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights and mistletoe and the enormous Christmas tree that brushed the top of the high ceiling. They would sip mulled mead while Sirius and Fleamont bantered about Quidditch and Euphemia offered Lily biscuits and showed her baby photos of James. He had altered his Christmas daydreams once he realized they would be at Hogwarts for the holidays, but for a moment he felt a pang of sadness as he let himself dwell on what could have been.
"I'm a little sad about it, too," he admitted. "But we're going to have a great Christmas here. I won't settle for anything less. And there's always next year."
He froze as he realized the giant assumption implied by his statement, then added, "I mean, unless you don't want… unless you won't be…
He ran a hand through his hair and studied her face, hoping he hadn't sent her into a Lily Evans panic. There was not a single shred of doubt in his head that he and Lily would be together next Christmas, but perhaps she didn't feel the same sense of blissful certainty. He waited for her to respond, heart pounding.
"Of course I'm going to spend next Christmas with you, you prat," she said, stopping in front of the Fat Lady and taking his other hand. "At this point, celebrating Christmas without you would be a bit of a letdown. If I'm not hearing Jingle Bells five times a day for the whole month of December, is it even really Christmas?"
James felt his whole body relax as a smile spread across his face and he wrapped his arms around her. Her body was warm and familiar against his, and for a moment he saw their whole future stretched out in front of them, undefined and full of promise and possibility. There was something in the curve of Lily's smile and the earnest hope in her eyes that told James she saw it too: next Christmas, and the Christmas after that, years of Christmases and sunny July days at the beach and birthdays and nights at the pub and rainy afternoons spent cuddled on the sofa doing nothing at all. It seemed impossible and yet inevitable that he had somehow gotten this lucky, that his years of pining and scheming and hoping had culminated in the exquisite joy of shared anticipation for the future. He felt a ridiculous urge to both laugh and cry, but instead he pressed his lips close to her ear and breathed in the scent of her hair.
"I can't wait," he murmured.