December Prompt #7: Giving
"Sirius! Merry Christmas!" James yelled in Sirius's ear.
Terrified, Sirius shot awake. For a moment, Sirius was disconcerted, wondering where he was, but then he realised he was at Potter Manor with James and his parents, who had been grateful enough to allow him to stay with them after he had run away from Grimmauld Place.
Sirius scowled and buried his face under the pillow, grumbling, "Go away, James."
"But it's Christmas," James cried, yanking on his pillow in an attempt to extract it from Sirius's grip.
"Bah humbug," Sirius muttered and kicked James's abdomen.
"Oof! Pads!" James whined, but Sirius didn't deign to apologize for his misdemeanour.
Sirius had always hated the holidays. His family had never celebrated Christmas in the fun sense, thinking it was absolutely pointless, and any family gathering they hosted usually contained a moment where someone would get pissed and inevitably ended up cursing or hexing others in a blind rage. Sirius couldn't even count the number of times he'd had to hide with Regulus in nooks and crannies to escape their relatives' ire.
The only good thing about Christmas was the presents, all valuable and fancy, he received from his family members and friends, but even those couldn't make up for the number of beatings and curses he'd received all throughout the year.
Sirius was still thinking about his past Christmases when James picked up another pillow and smacked the back of his head with it. "Come on, sleepyhead, it's Christmas—"
"Who cares? It's not like it's important," Sirius muttered, earning a horrified gasp from James.
"What? What did you just say? What do you mean it's not important—"
Sirius sighed and sat up before meeting James's eyes. "James… I don't celebrate Christmas. It's a pointless holiday where people pretend to care about each other but would rather hurt them any other day of the year, and self-obsessed children get presents from absentee parents who just feel guilty they haven't been around much. It is like any holiday where everyone just pretends everything is fine when it's obviously not."
James's eyes were widening with each point Sirius made. By the time Sirius finished his speech, James's eyes resembled a horrified house elf's after it's been told its master is giving it clothes. "Sirius! No! That's not what Christmas is about—"
"That's exactly what happens at Christmas, James."
"No, that's not what happens at Christmas. Merlin, Sirius! I can't believe you think this way. Come on downstairs so we can teach you exactly what Christmas is about," James ordered, climbing out of Sirius's bed. He walked towards the door and called out over his shoulder, "Hurry up!"
Sirius rolled his eyes but reluctantly slid out of bed. Grimacing at the coldness under his feet, he put on the fluffy slippers Mrs Potter had bought especially for him and went downstairs.
Mr and Mrs Potter were huddled together on the couch, steaming cups of tea in their hands. When they saw him, they smiled and got to their feet. Mrs Potter hobbled over and wrapped her arms around Sirius. "Merry Christmas, love."
Sirius half-heartedly mumbled, "Merry Christmas."
Mrs Potter pulled back and placed her hands on his shoulders, looking at him carefully. She smiled and patted his cheeks. "Are you ready to open your presents, dear?"
Sirius shot James a pointed look, and the latter quickly distracted his mother with her cup of tea. He hurried over to Sirius's side and yanked him towards the tree. He said in a low voice, "Okay, yes, we get presents, but it's not because my parents remained absent all year—"
"It's still pointless because you get presents all year round too. What's the use of this set of presents?"
"Yes, but Christmas presents are there because you want to give them something—not because you have to. Do you send us presents because you want to or because it's expected?"
"Because it's expected," Sirius answered truthfully.
James's eyes widened before he smiled at Sirius sadly. "I'm sorry you feel that it's expected, Pads," he said solemnly. He bent down and picked up a gift-wrapped box. "I'm giving this present to you because I want to—not because it's expected."
"Of course it's expected, James," Sirius argued. "It's Christmas and everyone gives presents on Christmas because it's expected. If I didn't give you any present today, how would you feel?"
"Well, yeah, I'd feel like you don't like me enough, but I wouldn't really mind if you didn't give me a present because I now know you think it's an obligation. Christmas is not about the presents—it's about the feelings behind the presents. The presents themselves are a bonus," James explained patiently.
Sirius crossed his arms and asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"
James smiled as if Sirius had finally asked him the right question. He sat down on the carpet beside the tree and gestured to Sirius to sit beside him. Once Sirius was seated, James handed him the box in his hands and said, "Now, I'm giving this to you because I want you to feel happy—which will, in turn, make me feel happy—"
"Isn't that the complete opposite of being selfless?"
"I feel happy when I make you feel happy. It's not about my happiness here—that's just a bonus. The real purpose is to make you happy. If you're happy, I'm happy, get it?" James continued to explain.
Sirius still didn't understand why this was so important to James. It was just another excuse to get presents. That's what Christmas was about, wasn't it? Receiving expensive presents and pretending everything was fine when it was not?
"Just give me my presents, Prongs. Save that lecture for someone else."
James seemed to have noticed where his thoughts were drifting, so he said, "Look. Come with me to the soup kitchen and you'll see what I mean."
"What's a soup kitchen?" Sirius frowned, having never heard of the words before.
"You'll see. Go, get dressed," James interrupted, taking the still-wrapped box from Sirius's hands and placing it back under the tree.
Sirius frowned when he found himself standing in front of a rundown little building that had a lot of people standing outside, waiting in line patiently. He turned to James to question him why they were there, but James simply led him towards the back of the building.
He knocked on the door and an old man opened it. He beamed when he caught sight of them and immediately pulled James into his arms. "James, my boy, Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Mr Flynn," James said with an equally bright smile. He pulled back and clapped Sirius's shoulder. "This is my best friend, Sirius. I was thinking we could volunteer here today if it's not too much trouble."
Volunteer? What? Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but James, the little shit he was, elbowed him in the ribs. Sirius gritted his teeth but refused to make any sound, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.
"Of course not, boy! Everyone's welcome here, you know that!" The old man gave Sirius a toothy grin that immediately set him at ease. It was just so bright and heartfelt. "Come in, come in!"
Sirius walked in after the old man and James, looking around curiously. Inside, there were a lot of people hurrying around, handing each other bags filled with all sorts of food items. A few people were stirring ladles in large pots and serving the food in plates of different sizes, chattering and yelling instructions to others behind them.
As they walked into the midst of the controlled chaos, the people looked up as one and grinned at James. One middle-aged woman squealed, "Look, everyone, James is finally here!"
"Hi, James!" they all chorused before abandoning their posts and hurrying over to give James a quick hug.
Sirius had never been so confused in his entire life.
Who were all these people and why were they giving his best friend a hug?
James introduced Sirius to the people, and Sirius gave them a halfhearted wave, not too comfortable at the moment. Mr Flynn—whoever the hell he was—called out, "Alright, people! Back to work!"
Everyone returned to their stations, leaving James and Sirius standing there in the middle of the kitchen with the old man. James turned to Mr Flynn and asked, "Can Sirius and I serve the food? He needs the Christmas treatment... if you know what I mean."
The old man's eyes widened behind his round spectacles before he shot Sirius a strange look Sirius couldn't decipher. He nodded slowly and smiled. "Of course, child."
James elbowed Sirius and motioned at him to follow him. Sirius stayed silent and walked behind James, still confused as to why they had volunteered to become waiters at a restaurant.
James picked up two trays of food and gestured at Sirius to pick some up, too. Sirius sighed and did as instructed, but as they were walking out through the door to serve the food, he said, "Prongs, why are we serving food like house-elves? Isn't this beneath us?"
"Shh, don't advertise your ignorance so loudly," James whisper-yelled, smiling at a man passing by. He turned to Sirius and said, "Sirius, we're here to serve the poor and needy because they're unable to afford all of this."
"But that's not our job—"
"You see that man in the corner?" James asked, subtly nodding towards a dark-haired man sitting at a table, his head bent and hands clasped on the tabletop. When Sirius nodded, James murmured, "He lost his family in a car accident twenty years ago, he also damaged his spine, and he's barely able to hold a spoon anymore."
Sirius winced. "That's rough."
"But fortunately for him, this soup kitchen helps put food on his table and it tries to help him navigate other needs," James explained. "Everyone here has a tragic story to tell—and the volunteers just want to listen and be there for them."
Sirius pursed his lips and thought about what James had said. He asked, "How many times have you been here?"
"I've known Mr Flynn my entire life. Mum and Dad used to come down here every year with me and we'd help hand out food and donate anything we had that they could use. Mum and Dad are too old to come here anymore, but they still let me come here on my own."
James walked over to a table and placed one of the trays down. He smiled at the woman and murmured a gentle, "Merry Christmas, miss," before walking over to the other table.
Sirius repeated James's actions. He placed a tray down in front of an old woman, whose hands were trembling, and gave her a polite, "Merry Christmas."
The old woman's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, startling him. He looked down at her and she whispered a shaky, "Sit down, Ty. How I missed you, my child. You've been gone for so long!"
Sirius's first reaction was to tell the woman he wasn't her child—except for Mrs Potter (and maybe Professor McGonagall), he didn't have any other mother figures in his life anymore and he liked it like that—but then, James leaned in and whispered, "That's Mrs Hunter. She lost her son in the war but keeps mistaking people for him. No one has the heart to tell her the truth because she keeps forgetting what happened."
Sirius's heart ached. He liked to pretend he didn't have emotions, but deep down, he knew he just ended up caring too much. He quietly handed James the second tray and sat down opposite the old woman.
She didn't let go of his wrist, and he didn't extract it, still feeling bad about her situation. The old woman's smile was just as shaky as her voice. "Ty… Look how you've shrunk. Haven't they been feeding you enough in the army, dearie?"
Sirius swallowed, not knowing how to react to the woman's question. James signalled at him to answer her from over her shoulder. Sirius looked back at the hopeful woman. "I am eating enough—it just doesn't affect me."
The woman chuckled sadly. "Same ol' Ty… How long are you here for, love? Do you have to go back there again?"
Sirius slowly nodded. "I'm sorry, but yes, I'll have to go back soon."
The woman raised her trembling hand and Sirius instinctively caught it in his own. She sniffled as she patted his cheek weakly, her skin wrinkled with age and obvious handiwork. "I miss you so much when you leave, Ty… Please don't go."
Even though Sirius knew she wasn't really speaking to him, his heart cracked at the longing in her voice. "I'm sorry…"
The tears began to flow down her leathery skin. She clutched onto Sirius's hands and sobbed. "No, please… Please, Ty, don't leave me again. I won't be able to bear it! I miss you so much, Ty… No… Please. Don't go."
Her intense pleading was getting to Sirius. He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the huge lump that had formed, and said gently, "How about I feed you before I go? Would you like that?"
The old woman's eyes were still hazy with tears, but she nodded weakly and let go of his hands. Sirius picked up the spoon, scooped some of the mashed potatoes, and held it up to her mouth. She parted her lips and Sirius smiled shakily as he fed her.
She patted his cheek after every bite, mumbling how much she loved him and how she was so proud of the man he had become, and Sirius had to stop himself from bursting into tears on the spot. He continued to spoon-feed her, his heart breaking with every sincere compliment the old woman gave him.
When the plate was almost empty, the woman gently facepalmed and cried out, "Oh, no! You must be hungry, Ty! You should eat, too!"
Sirius shook his head. "It's okay, I'll eat later."
"I insist," the woman pleaded, picking up the spoon. She did her best to hold her spoon steady but ended up splattering Sirius's shirt with a mixture of gravy and potatoes. "Oh, no… I ruined your clothes."
"It's okay," Sirius said gently, surprised with his own patience. He cupped the old woman's hand and held it up so she could feed him. The woman's smile was so bright and angelic, and Sirius suddenly realised what James had meant earlier.
Making someone else happy made him happy in return.
A few minutes later, she lowered her hand and reached for the glass of water. Her hand trembled and Sirius quickly helped her steady it. After she was done drinking, she lowered the glass and glanced at Sirius with a slightly furrowed brow and parted lips.
"Do I know you?" she asked, her eyes flickering from his face to her surroundings. "Where's Ty? Where's my son?"
Sirius's heart stuttered. She didn't remember him.
He looked over at James, who was busy carrying trays to the tables. Realising James was going to be no help, Sirius's heart fell. He gave the old woman a smile and lied smoothly, "I'm sorry, but Ty had to leave."
The woman's face fell at his words. Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the table for a few moments before nodding shakily. "Oh."
Without another word, she got to her feet and left, leaving Sirius alone at the table. He sat there, staring at the door she had just walked through, his heart aching at the sudden change in his mood.
A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his morose thoughts. He looked up and found James smiling sadly down at him. Sirius sighed and got to his feet, his shoulders still slumped. James murmured, "I'm sorry you had to see that last bit. She usually doesn't forget the people who work or come here."
Sirius shrugged and turned around to pull James into an uncharacteristically tight hug. "I understand what you wanted to show me, Prongs. I'm not sure if I buy the idea that presents aren't transactional, but I think I get why the intent behind giving them is important."
James chuckled against his shoulder and thumped him on the back. "No problem, Pads. Want to get out of here?"
Sirius hesitated before shaking his head. "No, I want to stay here for a while."
James smiled. "Alright, come on, I'll teach you how to use a ladle."
"I'm not an idiot, Prongs. It's just like pouring potions," Sirius said with a grin, his heart already warming. James laughed and led him towards the kitchens.
While Sirius wasn't sure if he completely understood the concept of giving, he now had a better realisation of what genuine giving meant to other people.
He made a mental note to send Regulus a letter the moment he got back to the manor. A genuine letter of love would be more well-received than a cold present after all.