A/N: Sorry for the delay (though this is still posted in a day!). Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! It really means a lot! However, I can't waste my time or space answering any questions or acknowledging each person. So if you would like to ask me something about the fanfic, send an Email to me. (I think it's in my profile) Thanks again! Much love! Kisses!
Hogsmeade, in the winter, looks as though it belongs on a Christmas greeting card. The little shop signs have a thin layer of snow on top of them and so do the roofs of the buildings themselves. There are carolers singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs' (Sirius joins in enthusiastically, it being his favorite) around each corner. And the stained-glass windows of the Three Broomsticks send shards of color across the cobble-stoned path. This is, perhaps, why I enjoy wintertime despite the chill because it's such a beautiful season and everyone is caught up in the spirit of the Holiday.
We took the easiest route to get to the community, the One-Eyed Witch passageway, and now we have to push our way through the other witches and wizards who are doing their shopping. Sirius and I keep close, or at least try to in such a hectic time as this one; after all, Christmas is only two days away. We pass the small pub – I hope we go in after I get some gloves because my insides are just as cold as my outsides. I look over and up at Sirius (him being slightly taller than me) and I see he is grinning with an odd boyish tint in his gray eyes.
He loves Christmas just like I do, but I think it must be his most favorite Holiday since he always plans so extravagantly for it, even if he is staying at Hogwarts. I wonder what his house – once he owns one – will look like when December rolls around. Chuckling, I imagine him getting stuck in a long line of twinkling wire-lights as Padfoot. I almost can't wait for him to escape the boundaries of school like he has done with his family.
We enter a small Odds and Ends store, the kind that sells everything, including gloves, to the customers. It's not as crowded or as busy as the other places we've passed, but I can tell the Shopkeeper isn't used to this many people all the same. Sirius walks over to two great bins of gloves and mittens and I look at the price apprehensively. '5 Galleons per pair,' the sign reads. He takes out a strange puce-colored set and I make a face at him.
"Umm… no."
"Well, you pick out one then!" He barks at me. Literally, I mean. He actually barks at me.
I bite into my lip, "5 Galleons…"
"Oh no! No! It's my money! I can do whatever I want with it. You should have a good pair of gloves."
I chuckle and shake my head, wondering how long they will last considering what Sirius did to the last ones. I go over to the bins, however, and start riffling through them, searching for my favorite color (or at least a pair that doesn't look like someone barfed all over them).
"While you're at it," Sirius continues, "you should really get two. Just in case."
He wanders off to other parts of the shop while I continue my hunt; finally, I come across a nice black set that feels warm against my bare hands and I hold them in one hand while the other digs more. I'm determined to find my favorite color. Most of the gloves and mittens range in the cool spectrum of the rainbow; blues, purples, grays, and blacks. Where are all the bright colors, damn it?
At last, I bring up a pair of dandelion-yellow mittens, though it's not my favorite shade of yellow; at least, it's bright and happy. I walk over to Sirius, who's looking through a bunch of quills with a plume of feathers on top, and tap him on the shoulder. Turning around, he grins at me, noticing that I have an extra set… just in case. The two of us walk up to the counter and, as he said he would, the prankster foots the bill.
We manage to wriggle our way out of the Odds and Ends shop, but the streets of Hogsmeade aren't much different. I speak after a moment's silence, "Thanks, Sirius… I can pay you back."
He shakes his head, "No. You fighting in the war tomorrow is enough for me."
The clouds, which have seemed to plow in overnight, sprinkle snow from the heavens and onto the ground. It gets stuck in my friend's raven black hair and I almost brush it out for him, but luckily restrain myself from doing so. At first, it's just flurries, and then the flakes fall down bigger and faster. We duck into the Three Broomsticks and Sirius shakes himself off like a dog, spraying the Shrunken Heads hanging near the door. 'How rude!' One of them says.
The small pub is overcrowded; in fact, it seems as if it has been magically enlarged for the Holiday season (which could have happened, for all I know). Outside, the snow is whirling around, caught in one of those weird wind things. I think the Muggles call them dust devils or some such nonsense name. Sirius orders the drink – two Butterbeers – and I sip at mine in contempt.
The warm liquid is pleasant and it fills me up with that warmth, making me not so shivery and cold. It takes a while for the snowstorm to calm down and that's when we finally go back into Honeydukes so we can return to Hogwarts. I don't know what to feel, grateful or ashamed by the fact that my friend paid for both Butterbeers as well. Sirius, on the other hand, waves off my thanks and tells me; very firmly I might add, not to pay him back.
We walk through the corridors together and stop as a voice starts laughing. I can feel Sirius – though I'm not touching him in any way – tense beside me. And, from the darkness, emerges Snivellus; I-I mean… Snape. His dark onyx orbs are lit with humor and I raise a curious brow.
Snape sneers, "Look what we got here… Lupin and Black… under the mistletoe."
Sirius and I look up at the same exact time. Sirius looks over at me and I feel butterflies rise up to flutter around my stomach. Oh, I have waited for this moment too long; however, it isn't quite as I envisioned it in my head. Any kiss from Sirius, though, is a kiss I'm willing to take. Forced or not.
His eyebrows wiggle in that odd way and he gives a devilish grin as he tilts his head down slightly. Snape is practically shaking with suppressed laughter and I feel like I might melt right into my friend. Sirius puts a hand under my chin, making my eyes meet his, and I swallow the flying insects that are trying to escape from my gut. His lips push down onto my own; they really are quite soft and delicious.
He pulls away from me and I feel strangely lost without his presence so close to mine. Snape is cackling madly and I wonder if he has gone into some kind of fit; blushing, I push Sirius farther, enough so that I can escape, and run down the hall as fast as I can go. I hear the prankster yell out my name a few times ("Remus! Remus!"), but I neither stop nor turn back. I don't want to think about it anymore.
Ooo0ooO
"I bet you liked that kiss, didn't you?" Sirius asks, winking.
The two of us are making a slow way toward the Entrance Hall so that we can go out into the snow and finish the brutal battle. I am bundled up tightly and my new gloves (the black ones since they felt warmer when I tried them on) feel nice. Of course, no one can see them because my hands are buried into the overlarge pockets of that old extra cloak I wear during winter. Sirius has offered to replace – more than once – but I refuse it every time; this cloak is something else besides a piece of garment keeping me from getting ill.
This cloak once belonged to my father, who has passed away. And I hold onto it for that reason alone.
"I did," I nod, "but that should've been obvious, considering I like you, too, Sirius."
"Why did you run away like that, then?"
"Snape."
Sirius sighs, a bitter frown passing across his face, though it clears up quickly when we reach the doors that lead outside. I regret to admit that, despite the forced kiss we shared underneath the mistletoe yesterday, the prankster still regards our relationship as a friendship rather than anything more. I know I said that I could forget about this crazy notion of mine if he just kissed me, but it's proving difficult. My feelings for him have grown, if anything.
He opens the doors and we step onto the grounds, immediately running for cover as great snowballs pelt us. Sirius jumps over the large snow wall he has created for the Gryffindor fort; I, on the other hand, am much more careful than that. I simply walk to the back and crawl (the opening is not big enough for me to step through) in. Other Gryffindors are there, including Lily Evans! Her presence surprises me so much that I manage to get hit right in the head by another snowball.
I can feel the icy cold snow dribble from my head and down my neck, but I don't have time to squirm because Sirius forces me to the ground. He's laughing, which makes me chuckle and then all the other Gryffindors are joining in.
The war was long and brutal, but we won. We won! Sirius had thrown most of the well-aimed snowballs at crucial Slytherins who could make two or three at once. Lily and I were the brains of the operation; occasionally, I had to build up a flank of the fort too. It was the most fun I ever had and, despite the fact that I'm still shivering from being outside for four hours straight, I wouldn't mind fighting in the next battle.
In the Great Hall there is a large feast since it's Christmas Eve and, since so many students go home for the Holidays, the House tables were pushed aside and everyone sat at one. The Slytherins tried not to mingle with the Gryffindors, but that proves impossible since Lily has to sit beside Snape. Luckily, Sirius and I manage to squeeze in between the Divination and Astrology Professors (who are both talking about the position of the stars so loudly that it doesn't matter what we whisper to each other).
The feast is lovely. The food is hot and delicious and I eat as much of it as I can. It's strange because I only consume a piece of toast with jelly for breakfast, skip lunch – because I'm busy in the library – and have about a one-course meal for dinner. Occasionally, I catch Sirius sending me odd glances and I can only grin at him meekly.
Finally, when I feel like my belly is about to burst with roast pheasant and boiled potatoes, Dumbledore gives us permission to leave (I guess we could have always left; in fact, Sirius tried several times, but I'm more courteous and held him back). We travel in silent contempt, the kind two friends share, up to the Gryffindor Tower where I give the password to the Fat Lady and she grants us entrance. The Common Room – like the Great Hall – is decorated with flashing lights and garlands. The smell of Christmastime is in the air.
Tomorrow both Sirius and I will wake up early in the morn, run down from the Boy's Dormitory to the tree that's standing in the middle of the floor, and open up the presents that are already there. I watch as the prankster kneels down and takes two from the hearth; the tags addressed to him and I.
This is our custom every Christmas Eve, to open one single box (I'm not sure how Sirius can do that) and see what is inside. Mine is from James and so is Sirius' – I pull at the wrapping paper cautiously. Knowing the Marauders, this thing could be pranked, though I doubt it; finally, mustering up enough courage, I rip out a hat with earflaps. It is gray and slightly fuzzy, at which Sirius starts laughing.
"Now you can look like Moony when you're not a wolf, Remus."
"Ha ha," I chuckle dryly, "how amusing."
James is always the one that sends gag-gifts. I have no idea why he does this since he vacations during Christmastime and therefore can't see the expressions that had probably passed over my face. Sirius opens up his present and now it is my turn to laugh because James has sent him a leash and a collar. A flea collar!
He winks and says, "Now you don't have to worry about me running away on you."