CHAPTER 9

Greetings from London

Christmas Eve was a joyful ceremony for all at the Potter house. Sirius was free of one more year of the Black's traditional night where Aunt Elladora and his mother would talk into the night over a glass of sherry while Regulus, Narcissa, Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Sirius would all be rounded into a room for the night, and told to go to sleep at seven o' clock so that the adults could talk about important things.

At James's house, they were all together every minute of the day, Mr. and Mrs. Potter never talked down to him. In fact, it seemed as if they had had him late in life and found him the last bit of youth in their world. This sort of odd honor bestowed to James, being the eleven-year-old son of a grey-haired household, seemed to be both a gift and a curse upon the family. He was very polite, and they were very loving. But it also allowed James to be a bit spoiled; something Sirius had never been graced with. Everything in the Black house was dispersed evenly, miserly --- and any sort of spoiling went to Regulus. Yes, Sirius was but one leaf on a family tree that stretched back to at least one if not more of the great Genarva brothers. But James --- James was seen as a miracle child, and while some would have seen this as a stifling bit of arrogance and egotism in the Potter boy's life, Sirius lavished in it and vigorously emulated everything he saw in James's life.

It was that afternoon that James came up with the idea to check on Remus and give him a proper Christmas greeting.

"Maybe we can even see his mum," James said, and ushered his friend over to the fireplace. Mr. and Mrs. Potter both thought the idea could cheer the Lupin family up a great deal, so they supplied the Floo powder for the boys. James and Sirius both stuck their heads into the fireplace and shouted, "Lupin Residence!"

All at once they felt their heads fall in and out of tinsel covered fireplaces, and finally they stopped spinning in a foreign hearth, covered in stockings filled with holes. A tired looking Remus sat in front of the fire, staring sadly into it. He was all alone and looking rather pathetic in his shabby robes. He was looking peaky and pale, and not very well himself. He didn't even notice the two floating heads in his fireplace before James alerted him to the fact.

"Hey, Remus!" he called out, and Remus jumped. He looked horrified instead of happy to see them. He blinked, and then recognized the disembodied faces. He forced a smile.

"Oh, hey, guys," he said, and waved.

"Happy Christmas," James said cheerfully.

"Yeah, Happy Christmas," he replied weakly, then shakily stood up and slowly crossed to the fire.

"Hey, Lupin," Sirius said, "you aren't looking too good. You feeling all right?"

"Yeah," Remus said, "it's my-"

"Remus, who're you talking to?" a female voice said from somewhere out of sight. Remus gasped and called back, "No one! Just --- just give me a second."

"Who was that? Your mum? She sounds better," James said hopefully.

"No, uh --- that was my aunt. She's here to take care of my --- you didn't tell me you were --- well, I've got to get going --- a lot to do before tonight."

"Oh, well, all right," James said. "Happy Christmas, Remus!"

"Happy Christmas, James. Happy Christmas, Sirius."

"Happy Christmas."

And they dispersed.

Sirius was confused more than before. You would have thought that he would have had a little more gratitude He shook his head free of soot and crawled out of the fire.

"Well, how did it go? That was short and sweet," Mr. Potter said, returning the Floo powder to its place on the mantle.

"He was worried and upset about something," James said, getting to his feet. "He's having a rotten Christmas."

"Yeah," Sirius interjected, and then he fell silent.

"""""""

The night flew by very quickly, and Sirius finally found himself in James's room, telling stories and looking through Quidditch magazines. The last thing on Earth that he wanted to do was go back to the pink-walled guest room and wait for morning. They were halfway through The Weekly Snitch when James donned a thoughtful look on his face and smiled. "You know what, Sirius?"

"Hmm?" Sirius asked, turning the page. Ludo Bagman, the starting Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, was balancing on his broom while hitting a bludger to Arlan Blackwell's head.

"Someday, I'm going to be the greatest Quidditch player ever." James stood and went to sit next to the window. He stared at the full moon. "And I'm going to be on the cover of all these magazines. Some day, Sirius. Just you see."

"Someone had a little bit too much butterbeer," Sirius chortled as he turned the page.

"And what do you want to do with you life?" James asked, turning toward him. "You raised your hand in class when Klein asked if anyone wanted to be an Auror. Is that what you're looking at?"

"We're eleven, we've got our whole lives ahead of us!" Sirius said, shaking his head. "I have no idea what I'm going to do."

"You've got to have some idea," he sat on his bed and rested his head on the bedpost.

"I'm just trying to survive Professor McGonagall's exams," Sirius said, and he shut the magazine. "What's wrong with you? Why are you acting all --- sullen?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. I saw Remus's face, and I was thinking --- well, you know, it's going to happen to all of us sometime. Blimey, our parents are going to die! And eventually, we'll die. You know? I mean, I never really thought about it until his mum got all sick --- we aren't here for very long. And it's best to do whatever we can while we're still here --- "

Sirius yawned and stood. "James, it's Christmas Eve. Why are you talking about depressing things? Look around! We have a whole load of presents waiting for us downstairs in the morning! "

James nodded in agreement, and then he rumpled his hair again. "Yeah, I guess. I just can't stop thinking --- what if it was my mum?" He looked at Sirius testily. "Or even your mum?"

"Oh, that would be a loss for the world, I'm sure," Sirius huffed as he sat down next to James. "Look, it bothers me, too. All right? But Remus'll be fine. He wouldn't want you worrying about him tonight. So perk up. You look almost as bad as he did."

James smiled and then looked out the window again. His face fell, and he hit his pillow. "Oh, damn it."

"What?"

"Professor Klein's report. It's due by the end of the holidays. About the werewolf signs, remember?"

"Ah, it'll be a breeze," Sirius said, shrugging it off, and then he got up and walked to the door. "It's late. I'll get going."

"'Night," James yawned and lay back in his own bed.

"'Night," Sirius said before shutting the door behind him.

""""""""

"Master Sirius! Master James! Hurry! Hurry! Look what Sprite did for Master Sirius and Master James!" Sprite was running up and down the hallway, banging on the boys' doors as hard as she could. "It is Christmas! Wake up, Master James! Wake up, Master Sirius! Sprite worked all night! Come see what Sprite did!"

James opened his eyes and blinked. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on. What time had he finally nodded off? One? Two?

Sirius was already eagerly waiting at his door, teeth all showing. "Come on, you slow git! You should see it! Stacked to the ceiling! All over the fireplace! On the couch! You can't see the floor!"

James shot out of bed and followed his eager friend down the stairs and into the living room. Sure enough, there was box upon box, stacked to the ceiling with all sorts of paper and bows. Both of their jaws dropped as they stood, paralyzed, just staring at the beautiful sight. Sprite was behind them, clasping her hands together in delight.

"Oh, does Master James and Master Sirius like what Sprite has done?" she asked, jumping from one leg to another.

"Yes, very much," Sirius said, and he and James dug into the presents.

Sirius hadn't expected any presents from the Potters, but it turned out that half of the gifts were addressed to him. He couldn't believe that they would buy him all of this without asking for anything in return.

He ripped open the first package, and there, laced in golden letters, was a new black satchel with the Gryffindor crest sewn onto the flap. The letters read Sirius Black in fancy handwriting. Sirius smiled and placed the satchel on one of the free chairs. He dug into the next present and found a toy Snitch on a string. He laughed. "Hey, Potter! Look!"

James looked up from his unwrapping and returned the laugh. "That's great!"

"Keep digging, you probably got one, too," Sirius encouraged him, and then he set the Snitch on top of the satchel. He ripped the next present open.

"Oh! Sirius! Look! Look what Dad gave me!"

Sirius jumped to attention and set the wizard's chess board down. But James was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared. He furrowed his brow, and scanned the mounds of gifts.

"James?" he whispered. "Ugh!"

He fell face first into a pointy end of a box. Something had pushed him from behind! He snapped his head around to see James laughing at him. Except all of James wasn't there. It was just his head, floating in midair.

"An Invisibility Cloak!" Sirius exclaimed, and he tugged it off of his friend. James, still laughing, reappeared, and sat down next to Sirius as he examined the newly found gift.

"It was my Dad's, and my grandfather's," James said, crossing his legs. "Dad promised me that he'd give it to me when I was older. And now here it is."

Sirius wrapped his hand in the cloth and joyfully watched as it disappeared from sight. "Bloody hell. That's brilliant!"

"Geroff," James laughed, shoving him out of the way and reclaiming the cloak. "You know, this could come in handy at Hogwarts next semester."

Sirius, getting the gist of what James was saying, felt a smirk slap onto his face. He nodded in agreement. "Oh, yes, it could, couldn't it?"

"Happy Christmas!"

Mr. and Mrs. Potter entered the room, wearing their nightclothes and rubbing their eyes.

"Happy Christmas," the boys said in unison, and Sirius added, "Thank you for the gifts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

Mrs. Potter glowed, and only said, "You're very welcome, Sirius."

"My parents can probably pay you for-"

"That's not necessary, Sirius," Mr. Potter interrupted, waving his hand to hush him up. "Enjoy your gifts."

Sirius's smile grew wider, and he dug into his next gift.

That night, Sprite cooked them a goose dinner, and the six of them sat around the table and stuffed their stomachs until no one could manage another bite. They sang carols, built snowmen, and told Christmas stories by the fire. It was something right out of a book, Sirius thought, as he followed James up the stairs and back to bed.

He still had the taste of goose on his lips as he drifted off to sleep.

""""""""""""

"It's getting worse," the doctor informed Mrs. Lupin outside her son's room. The little boy was lying in a white bed, face cut wide open and arms wrapped in bandages. Mistletoe hung over his head, and the counter where his papers sat was donned with garland. In the corner a small Christmas tree twinkled in the starlight. There was no moon out this night. "We'll be able to patch him up this time, but it was lucky that you opened the door when you did. He may not have made it the entire night."

Mrs. Lupin gasped, and her tears came faster. She stared through the window at her son and shook her head. "There must be another way for him to transform. I would give up my health to stay with him."

"You can't, Mrs. Lupin," the doctor said. "He will bite you. Not only will that mentally affect him, it will affect you. You will be just as him, and not able to help him in any way."

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

"The disease is still unresearched. Partially out of fear and partially out of politics." The doctor rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses and continued on. "There is nothing that we can offer him other than the treatment that we have been giving him, and the chance at a normal lifestyle. This means keeping up with his schoolwork, support from you and your husband, and of course, his social life. Has he made any friends?"

"He was speaking about a couple boys that he had gotten to know," Mrs. Lupin offered, "and he's a very smart boy. Top marks this last term."

"Good, good," the doctor said, "that is all we can give him, then. A shot at a future."

Remus couldn't stop looking at the tree. St. Mungo's had furnished it for him. The nurse who had set it there had cheerily told him that next year, there was no full moon on Christmas or Christmas Eve. Maybe next year he could visit James's house with Sirius. Maybe he could be normal for a change ---

Bah. Normal. That was a laugh.

He saw his mother and the doctor talking outside of his room. He sniffed. They wouldn't be able to do anything that they hadn't done before. His face ached. It had been close last night. Too close.