Christmas Goose by Mum-to-You

"Aw, c'mon, Moony. Get up!" Sirius bounced onto the bed and shook Remus roughly. "Now!"

Remus stuck his head under his pillow and groaned, "Go away, Sirius."

"It's Christmas, Moony! Hurry and get up! Pleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease!" he coaxed. Sirius bounced up and down on the bed, jostling him. Remus said a very bad word and didn't budge.

This decidedly unsatisfactory response forced Sirius to employ more drastic measures. He climbed on top of Remus and tried to pull the pillow off his head. "C'mon, Moony!" he pleaded. Remus clamped his hands over the pillow, but Sirius was too quick. He grabbed the pillow and started thumping Remus about the head with it.

"Dammit, Sirius, cut it out!" Remus growled. After repeated bludgeoning, though, Remus gave in. "All right, all right. I'm up." Sirius paused with the pillow in midair, ready to resume pommeling. Remus rolled over onto his back to face him and rubbed his face with hands.

Sirius hugged the pillow to himself and exclaimed gleefully, "Moony, it's Christmas!"

"Really? Today?" Remus covered his mouth to stifle a huge yawn. "Are you quite sure?" He tried to maintain a disgruntled look, but he could feel the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch.

"Remus, don't be such a gob-shite about it. It's my first Christmas in thirteen years, and you're just sleeping it away!" Sirius whacked him with the pillow one more time for good measure.

Remus jerked the pillow out of Sirius' hands and stuffed it back under his head. He squinted over at the alarm clock on the dresser and snorted. "Sirius, it's six-thirty in the morning!" he admonished.

Sirius nodded. "See, I told you. You're missing everything!"

Remus looked up into Sirius' excited face and couldn't help but smile. As Sirius clambered off him, though, Remus thought to himself, "But still—" He grabbed the pillow out from behind his head and whacked Sirius across the back soundly.

Sirius shot around with a surprised look and then snatched up the other pillow and thumped Remus back. What followed was an all-out, to-the-death pillow fight, the likes of which had not been seen since the Great Marauder Bed Linen War of some twenty years before.

The two men happily pounded each other senseless, but in the end, Sirius finally wrestled Remus to the ground. He stretched out on top of him and pinned his arms to the floor above his head. Then he looked down into Remus' amber eyes. With a rare twinkle in his own grey ones, Sirius said, "Say it."

Remus flushed and looked defiant. "I don't remember it," he challenged.

"Codswallop. You wrote it."

"Sirius, this is ridiculous. Let me up. You win."

"Not until you say it."

"I don't remember it, I tell you!"

"Then I'll refresh your memory. Repeat after me: "I, Remus John Lupin, do solemnly profess—"

"Sirius, this is silly—"

Sirius leaned into Remus with his whole weight. "Say it!"

Remus rolled his eyes in vexation before capitulating in a bored monotone, "I, Remus John Lupin, do solemnly profess—"

"—that Sirius Black reigns supreme in all things—" Sirius bent down and licked Remus on the neck.

Remus howled with laughter and recited, "—that Sirius Black reigns supreme in all things, and that I am but a mere lowly serf by comparison. I bow humbly before his prowess and wish only to bask in the dazzling brilliance of his amazing wonderfulness, thereby gaining some undeserved and unearned reflected glory just by being in his sublime presence. There. Happy?"

"Finish it."

"Oh, Merlin, Padfoot," Remus sighed.

"Finish it, Moony."

"Oh, all right, you git. I also think he's really cute, and I want to snog his face off."

"Yesss!" Then Sirius leaned down so that Remus could suit the actions to the words.

After several minutes, the snogging stopped. Remus looked up at Sirius with a smile and said, "Happy Christmas, Padfoot."

Sirius looked back down at him. A maniacal look crept into his eyes, and he grinned widely and hissed, "Presents!" Then he jumped up, grabbed Remus by the hand, and pulled him up.

"Wait, Sirius. It's chilly. I need to get my dressing gown and slippers," Remus insisted.

Sirius groaned and watched impatiently at the door while Remus took simply ages to get ready. Any seemingly deliberate slowness on his part was no doubt purely accidental. Sirius hopped up and down on one bare foot and then the other in exasperation. Finally, he could stand it no more. "Remus, come on!" He grabbed him by the hand again and dragged him down the short hallway. Abruptly, he turned around and stopped Remus from entering the sitting room, demanding, "Close your eyes."

Remus sighed, but smilingly obliged.

"Don't peek."

"I won't peek."

"You're peeking. I can see your eyes."

"I am not peeking, you prat!"

Sirius guided Remus into the room and said, "Okay, you can open them."

Remus opened his eyes, and his mouth gaped in utter astonishment. He was looking at what had to be the most pathetic Christmas tree he had ever seen in his entire life. "Isn't it beautiful?" Sirius asked.

Remus pondered the scraggly bit of tree, which may or may not have been an actual evergreen. His eyes roved over the sparse branches, from the makeshift colored ribbons, most of which were orange, to the frayed red, white, and blue bunting that had clearly been salvaged from a recent bank holiday, to the lumpy star on the top, which had very recently been handmade out of a scrap of tinfoil. Then he looked down into Sirius' excited face and replied, "I'm . . . speechless, Padfoot." He was having a hard time keeping himself from laughing aloud.

Remus was also acutely aware that Sirius knew perfectly well how ambiguous that statement was, and he hastened to cover with a white lie. "It's a lovely tree, Sirius. I can tell you worked hard on this."

Sirius barked with laughter. "Liar," he said, "You always were a terrible liar, Remus. You know very well that you are gazing upon the ugliest tree in entire history of Christmas."

Remus blushed and looked away. "Well, the decorations are, erm, eclectic."

There was another bark. "Remus, it's absolutely spuggly, but don't you see? It's the perfect tree for this Christmas."

Remus looked at tree, back at Sirius, then back at the tree. "Perfect? How exactly?"

"The symbolism, Mr. Moony, the rich, textured symbolism. It's just like us, innit? It looks like bloody hell, but it's the best we've got for right now, and it's a damn sight better than anything we've had in a long time. But it's a start, Remus. It's a start."

Tears sprang up in Remus' eyes and for a moment, he couldn't speak. He cleared his throat and murmured, "I see what you mean, Sirius," but Sirius wasn't listening. He was on all fours under the tree.

Remus watched Sirius as he crawled around on the floor pawing through the few packages under the tree, and he was looking with renewed understanding. He often worried that Sirius' tendency to whistle past graveyards was leading him to ignore the trouble they were facing, as if it might somehow go away. Either that or he sank into deep, hopeless despondencies from which he could barely be reached. But Remus knew for certain now that, deep down, Sirius understood exactly what was at stake and was ready to deal with it. With him. Knowing this gave Remus a lighter heart. They really were of the same mind on all the important things, just as they had always been. All of a sudden, Remus looked at the sad, garish little tree through different eyes. "Sirius," he declared, "it's a perfectly beautiful tree."

Sirius just grinned and handed him a lumpy, squashy package.

Remus took the package and sat down on the floor in front of the hearth. Sirius plopped down in front of him, cross-legged, with their knees touching. Remus reached out, patted Sirius on his bare foot, and exclaimed, "Sirius, you're freezing!" He grabbed his wand off the tea table and waved it at the fireplace, saying, "Incendio!" At once, there was a roaring fire.

Then Remus looked at him sternly and said, "Sirius, you already got me the chocolates."

Sirius just waved away his concern and retorted, "That was just a late St. Nicholas Day gift. Besides, you've eaten them all, so they don't count. Open it!"

Remus carefully lifted each piece of Spello-tape and painstakingly opened the package, while Sirius fidgeted and cast him impatient looks. When he finally got the gift open, it proved to be a Gryffindor scarf. "For old time's sake," Sirius explained.

Remus was delighted and promptly put the scarf around his neck. Then he reached over and handed a gift to Sirius. "It's not much, but—"

"Shut up, Moony! It's a present!" Sirius was shaking with excitement as he tore the present open. Then he looked up with a blank expression. "Remus, this is pants."

Remus' face fell. "You don't like it?"

"Literally. I mean, it's underpants."

"Well, yes. You need them, Sirius. Mine rather fall off you."

"You don't like it when my underpants fall off?"

Remus blinked. "I confess I do rather, but must it always be mine that fall off you?"

Sirius grinned, "Remus, it's my first Christmas present in thirteen years, and it's from you, and it's underpants. I can't begin to tell you how special that is to me."

Remus' eyes narrowed. "It's a very practical gift, Sirius."

"And I thank you. I'll treasure them always."

"Shut up, Sirius."

Sirius leaned over and kissed him. Then he handed Remus a second gift. There was another long, agonizing wait for him to open it, and Sirius' fingers were itching to rip the shiny paper off the box. Eventually, Remus exclaimed over the bottle of Benedictine he was holding up. "You remembered!" Remus loved the sweet, fruity, herbal liqueur, especially mixed with brandy, but he rarely splurged on such indulgences. "Thank you, Padfoot. Especially for remembering."

"You are the only person I know who drinks that crap, Remus. I was sitting in bar in Rouen this past fall, and someone at the next table ordered a B&B, and all of a sudden, I remembered," he elaborated. "It seems to go that way. Something triggers the smallest memory, and suddenly, it all comes flooding back."

Remus brushed Sirius' hair back out of his eyes and kissed him. Then he reached under the tree and pulled out a rather large, flat box. "This is yours, too. Nicer than pants, but still very practical, I fear."

Sirius had it torn open in a heartbeat. The gift proved to be new robes—simply cut, but elegant, and charcoal gray. "Basic black seemed too gloomy, and thought this would look rather well on you," Remus explained.

"I shall spend the rest of my life in hiding, but in secret sartorial splendor, eh?"

"Well, I'll be there to admire it, anyway." Remus grinned at him.

"What do you want me to model first, Moony? The robes or the pants?"

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Neither, you prat. Let's have breakfast first." As Remus got up, he noticed something under the tree. "Another gift? Sirius, good grief."

Sirius looked puzzled. "For me?"

Remus shook his head in bewilderment. "Not from me. What in the world?"

It was for Sirius, from Harry. "I sent him a rather useful penknife, but I didn't expect him to—"

"Merlin's beard," he exclaimed as he tore off the wrappings, "would you look at this?" It was a Gryffindor scarf. Sirius immediately wound it around his neck and looked up at Remus, whose own scarf was still around his neck. They grinned at each other like idiots.

Then Sirius' stomach growled rather loudly, and he said, "We've currant scones from the bake shop. There's so much cooking to do today, I didn't feature on a big breakfast."

"What a commendable housekeeper you've turned out to be, dear," Remus said in a faintly mocking tone.

"Shut up, Moony."

The rest of the day was spent in the kitchen. Remus had insisted on a goose, despite all Sirius' protests. Remus got irritated with Sirius' haphazard messes and his interminable verses of "Deck the Halls with Heads of House-Elves," and Sirius became absolutely peeved at Remus' insistence upon measuring everything. Between them, however, they managed a credible Christmas dinner without inflicting bodily harm on one another. In fact, they had rather an enjoyable day.

The plum pudding, being beyond their combined culinary skills, had been purchased, but the hard sauce they'd made was unmitigated disaster. The pudding had to be eaten without it, but Remus did manage to ignite quite a lot of brandy over it, which made the presentation spectacular. The silver Sickle turned up in Remus' pudding after all, but he adroitly managed to spit it out and hand it to Sirius with a superior smile.

Dumbledore had sent crackers, which delighted Sirius no end. His had a joke wand inscribed with the letters WWW on one end, and he snorted with laughter when it went all limp and saggy whenever he waved it in the air. They made several crude, but hilarious, jokes about the wand's erectile dysfunction, and Sirius figured Dumbledore had found out about his new wand and was taking the mickey out of him. There was also a pink baby bonnet with lace and ruffles, which Sirius immediately clapped onto his head, leaving the ribbons hanging.

Remus' contained a long barrister's periwig, which he absolutely refused to put on in spite of all Sirius' cajoling and chasing him around the house. He insisted emphatically that he had quite enough grey hair as it was, thank you very much. Better was the new Wizard chess set. Remus was an excellent chess player, and Sirius resigned himself to endless games in which his arse would be soundly beaten.

That evening, they lay together on the settee in front of a roaring fire, with Remus sprawled comfortably against Sirius, a glass of Benedictine and Brandy in one hand. Sirius sipped a gin and tonic and played with the fringe on Remus' scarf. For a while they didn't speak. Instead, they took turns exhaling little sighs of contentment.

Then Sirius spoke, "Next year, let's plan on Harry's spending the hols with us."

Remus nodded. "That would be nice." Then he looked up at Sirius, yanked on the end of his bonnet ribbons, and smiled. "This is just the first of a lifetime of happy Christmases, isn't it Padfoot?"

Sirius shivered. He felt as if a goose were walking over his grave. His face clouded over, but he forced a smile. He kissed Remus on the top of his head and answered, "If they're all like this one, love, I don't want to miss any of them." He chuckled and added, "Maybe we'll have a whole houseful of people of next year. That would be grand."

Sirius knew it would be a long way to next Christmas. So very much could happen in a year's time. Still, it was fun to dream, and it made Remus happy. It made him happy, too, now he thought about it. That was more than enough for this Christmas. They would just take the rest of them one year at a time.