James woke up ten minutes later and immediately began pulling items out of his bag. "Tinsel! Banners! Confetti! Remus, since you're already up—help me decorate. If we hurry, we can surprise Sirius and Pettigrew!"

Remus yawned. "What if I just want to sit here and watch you suffer?"

"Git. Come on. You're good at Sticking Charms." James waved his wand, and all of the photos on the wall immediately rearranged into the shape of a Christmas tree. Remus was, once again, very impressed by James' magical prowess. "Lupin! Stick them to the wall already! My wand arm is hurting just holding them here."

Remus scrambled for his wand and murmured "Haerete,"—three of the photos stuck to the wall. "Haerete," he said again, and a couple more stuck. He had to say it about fifteen more times before all of them stuck to the wall. James dropped his arm.

"Good form. Now help me with this banner. And do you know a spell to make the confetti fly around? Ya know, perpetually?"

Remus smiled. He had just learned this spell. "Of course." He muttered the incantation over and over until all of the confetti pieces were floating around in the air.

James beamed, open-mouthed, and a piece of confetti promptly flew into his mouth. "Brilliant," he managed (even though he was now choking violently).

It was another thirty minutes before Sirius finally woke up, and Peter followed suit: the dormitory was now fully decorated, and, by the looks of Sirius and Peter's open mouths, they were duly impressed. "And it's snowing!" said James, pointing to the window. It was indeed snowing, but it was the sad, miserable type of snow that was probably sixty percent rain. "It's a Christmas miracle!"

"We should make it snow indoors," suggested Sirius.

Remus did not think that was a good idea. "It's been snowing on and off for weeks. And wouldn't you rather spend all the time we have celebrating Marauder Christmas?"

"Presents first!" squealed Peter.

"Breakfast first," protested Remus.

Sirius grinned. "Let's take a vote. All for breakfast?"

"Aye," said Remus, but he was the only one.

"Ha. Three against one. Presents!"

James, however, was studying Remus' face. "Remus, you're ill, right? If you need to eat, we can do breakfast first..."

"I don't. I was only joking. I like disagreeing with you," said Remus, but then his stomach growled in protest. Remus realized that he hadn't eaten lunch nor supper the day prior; he'd been too busy with his friends' gifts.

"Breakfast first," James ordered.

"But James, we took a vote," Sirius whined, but James gave him a look and he shut up.

Remus felt kind of bad. "Really, James, I don't need..."

"You weren't at lunch. Or dinner. You're only human, mate; you need to eat..."

Remus' stomach squeezed uncomfortably at the untrue assumption. He needed to eat, yes, but he wasn't...

"What about we nick some food and then bring it up here?" said Peter tentatively, blessedly interrupting Remus' thoughts. "I think that we should save the food that we got from the Kitchens for supper, but nothing's stopping us from getting more."

Sirius grinned. "That's perfect! We can swing by the Kitchens with the Invisibility Cloak."

"We'll eat over presents!" said James, waving his arms again. "Ooh, this is so good. Come on."

Remus crawled under the Cloak with his friends (friends!). The day had already begun, and it was already the best Christmas that Remus had ever had.

They arrived back at the dormitories, too out-of-breath even to Knock on the door. James was carrying a big plate of food under the Cloak, and Sirius was levitating four muffins.

"I can't believe nobody noticed four floating muffins," Peter said, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm too quick for that," said Sirius with a wink. "Here, James, you can put the plate on the floor."

Remus scanned the plate of food. More muffins. Almost a full jar of jam. A slice of cake. Six pumpkin pasties. Three Chocolate Frogs. "Is there anything healthy here?"

"Nope!" said James brightly. "That's the beauty of it. I call dibs on a Chocolate Frog!"

Sirius wasted no time at all: he crawled under his bed and emerged with an armful of presents. "This one from James has been under my bed for weeks," he complained. "I wanna open that one first. I need to know what it is." He took a large bite of a muffin and ripped the wrapping paper apart unceremoniously.

The present was a small mirror. Sirius frowned at it. "Oh, James, perhaps you didn't know," he said with mock despair. "Not all of us are as arrogant as you are."

James swatted him on the arm. "I have one just like it. It's supposed to be..."

"Friendship mirrors? That's weird."

"No! They... they're like... what's it called, Remus? The curvy black bananas with the curly noodle?"

"A rotten banana milkshake with a curly straw?" said Remus, knowing full well what James was talking about. He was just so fun to tease.

"No, the one that you talk to!"

"Ah, a rotten banana milkshake with a curly straw intended for therapy."

"No! It talks back!"

"A... talking rotten banana milkshake with a curly straw... intended for therapy?"

"No! And it has a little spinny thing that goes ring ring!"

"Oh. A talking rotten banana milkshake with a curly straw, intended for therapy, that possesses an analog alarm clock."

"Argh! You're no help, Loopy!"

Remus smirked. "Telephone," he said, and James chucked a muffin at him.

"What's a telephone?" said Sirius, still examining the mirror.

"Well," started Remus, "it's basically a talking rotten banana milkshake with a curly straw, intended for therapy, that possesses an analog alarm clock."

"It's not!" said James. "It's like... oh, forget it." James reached into his trunk and pulled out an identical mirror. Suddenly, his face appeared in Sirius' mirror. "Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3," he said, and his voice came from his mouth as well as Sirius' mirror.

Sirius' eyes got wide and he put a hand over his mouth. "You're not serious," he said.

"You're right. I'm James," James quipped. "I'm completely serious, mate. It'll work from whatever distance we want. I could be in Australia and you'd still hear me."

Sirius' eyes were just getting wider and wider by the second; they looked as if they were about to pop clean out of his head. "You're... woah. Merlin's pants. So when I go home for Christmas and for the summer..."

"I can talk to you!" said James, smiling widely. "Or you can talk to me. But you know how much I like to talk, so you might not get much of a word in edgewise... Ooh! I can show you around my house, too. And you can show me around yours. And you can meet my parents!"

Sirius looked as if Christmas had come early. Which was appropriate, seeing as it had. "James, this is the absolute best present that anyone has ever given me. Ever."

"Beats the camera, even?" laughed James. "You've used that one enough."

Remus got the odd feeling that James didn't quite understand how much Sirius disliked his own house and family. How could he, when James' home life was absolutely perfect? Sirius put the mirror down, practically jumped into James lap, and hugged him fiercely. "You, James Potter, are the most wonderful, most incredible, most brilliant person in the whole world, even if you are completely arrogant. I don't even care that we're preteen boys and that hugging is weird. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you and I'm going to talk to you every single day. All day. Every day. You'll never be rid of me."

"Sheesh, mate," said James. "All right. You're very welcome. I knew it would be perfect, didn't I? James Potter is always right."

"James Potter is always right," repeated Sirius fervently. "I shouldn't've opened that one first. None of anybody's presents will ever be able to measure up now."

"Yeah, I can't follow that up," said Remus.

"I'll open a present next, then," decided James. "And I want Remus' first, seeing as I have no idea what it is."

Remus handed James his gift, which was wrapped in parchment and placed inside a small box. "I need the box back," he said—it had contained some Muggle pain pills that Remus' mother had forced him to bring (even though they weren't very effective and tasted terrible with Remus' enhanced senses. Remus never used them). He'd put the pills in a compartment in his trunk for the time being.

James eagerly opened the gift, and a red rubber ball promptly hit him in the face. "What? Remus? Is this a prank? Ouch."

Sirius was laughing hysterically now. "Oh, I get it. This isn't James' present. This is my present! Priceless. Your face, James. Priceless."

"No, it's James' present!" protested Remus. "I charmed it yesterday. It's supposed to behave like a Snitch. I didn't do it right, I don't think. And it'll only last for the rest of the day. But..."

"Oh!" James stared at the rubber ball, which was now flying around the dormitory and smashing into the walls. "That's really cool, Remus."

"No, I messed up. I'm sorry."

"It is cool." James stood up, looking a little like a panther waiting to pounce. "Everybody get on Sirius' bed. I'm gonna catch it."

"You're gonna die," said Sirius, still laughing. "It's going so fast. Oh, this is great." He pulled Remus and Peter onto the bed, clutching his camera tightly. "I got a picture of when the ball hit James in the face," he whispered to Remus, and Remus stifled giggles.

It was a full ten minutes before James finally managed to catch the ball. He stuffed the ball back into the box and bowed. "We're totally doing this outside later," he laughed. "Brilliant, Remus. Thank you."

Remus smiled. "You're welcome."

"You're next, Remus," said Sirius. "Whose present do you want to open first?"

"Peter's," said Remus immediately, and Peter beamed. Sirius tossed him a square, heavy gift. "I know exactly what it is," he said crossly. "Peter, you're way too predictable."

Remus gave him a look. "I like predictable. Peter knows that." He carefully removed the wrapping paper and set it aside. It was a book. "Famous Poetry of the Nineteenth Century," Remus read aloud, smiling broadly. He flipped open to a random page. "Gerard Manley Hopkins. I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark, Not Day. Henry David Thoreau. Inspiration. Woah, Peter, this is amazing."

"Oh, don't encourage him, Peter," joked Sirius. "He's already a weirdo as it is."

"But at least he's a happy weirdo now," said James. "Peter, whose do you want to open first?"

"The one from Remus," said Peter adoringly.

"I'm touched, Peter," said Remus, still smiling at Peter's thoughtfulness and clutching the book to his chest. "But you should probably open mine last. It'll take some time."

"Okay," said Peter, looking curious. "All right. I'll open James', then."

Sirius slid two parcels over to Peter. "This is taking too long. Just open mine, too, and then James can open the rest of his."

Peter took the two presents, smiling widely as if he couldn't believe that James and Sirius had actually gone out of their way to think of him. He opened the wrapping paper just as carefully as Remus had. The one from Sirius was a planner, which was actually very thoughtful. "It's because you care about homework and things," Sirius said. "You and Remus both. Something's wrong with the both of you, I swear."

Remus smiled at him. It was nice that he was being kind to Peter. Remus absolutely hated his mean-spirited teasing—both his and James'—and seeing him so thoughtful (even with the slight) was a lovely Christmas surprise.

James had gotten Peter a box full of sweets from Honeydukes. "I didn't know what you liked, so I just got you everything," he said cheerfully. "Well, not everything. Some of those sweets are really questionable. Cherry-Flavored Toothpaste is one thing, but Toothpaste-Flavored Cherries are something entirely different."

"Mind sharing?" said Sirius, looking at the box enviously.

"Please tell me you didn't steal that," said Remus, and James shook his head furiously.

"Oh, Remus, you have so little faith in me. I have plenty of money. I just got Mum and Dad to buy it. Do you like it, Peter?"

Peter popped a Cauldron Cake into his mouth. "Now this is a breakfast!"

James' gifts were just as thoughtful—he received a Nose-Biting Teacup from Peter and a box of Dungbombs from Sirius. "I already knew about the Dungbombs," said James, "seeing as I sent Sirius' money to my parents and asked them to buy them. But, oh man, it's still a surprise even though I knew it was coming. Snivellus is going to wish he'd never been born!"

Sirius was next. Remus didn't often see Sirius genuinely happy, but he was as he opened Remus' gift with such a fervor that Remus was afraid that his head would explode. "Cool," he said, staring at the modest album. "Woah. Remus. Wow."

"Is that a good 'wow' or a bad 'wow'?"

"A good one. Wow, wow, wow. This is excellent."

"Don't put any pictures in it yet," ordered James. "It took a really long time for me and Remus to set up that Christmas tree of your photos."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Thanks, Remus."

"It's Muggle, so you can make copies if you want us all to have one," said Remus. "But you don't have to. It's your present."

"That's a great idea," said Sirius. "Boy, am I glad that we're friends. Here, James, hand me Peter's present." James did, and Sirius ripped the paper apart. It was a dictionary. Sirius looked up at Peter slowly. "What are you playing at, Pettigrew? I'm not Remus or anything."

"You think I would read the dictionary for fun? It's for reference, Sirius," said Remus, though he was also genuinely confused about Peter's present.

"Well," said Peter, looking slightly afraid now, "I thought... well, Remus corrects your grammar all the time..."

There was a moment of silence.

"It's a joke!" said Remus finally. "Don't you get it, Sirius? It's a joke! And a pretty good one, too." Peter shot Remus a smile.

"If you don't like it..."

Suddenly, Sirius started to laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more. He wiped tears from his eyes and forced out, "A joke! Good one, Pete."

Peter beamed. "Okay, Remus, your turn," he said.

Remus would have never admitted it, but he was a little afraid of opening presents. He'd only ever received modest gifts from his parents before. What was James going to give him? Sirius? Peter? He didn't want anything too expensive. What if James got him... like... a pony or something? Honestly, Remus wouldn't put it past James, who seemed to take pleasure in the extravagant.

James tossed him a fluffy present that smelt of yarn, and Remus opened it carefully. It was a knit jumper (red and gold, of course) with a lion on the front. "I have one, too," said James. "So we could match. If you don't think that's for babies or anything." Remus gazed at the jumper.

"Is this handmade?" he asked quietly. He was a little overwhelmed. He'd never gotten a handmade jumper before.

"Yeah, Mum knits. Much better than your dad, no offense. She heard that I had three friends and she's making more. We can all match. So that's not your actual present, but I gave you yours first 'cos you actually wear jumpers. D'ya like it?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

"Put it on, then," Sirius urged.

Remus hesitated. He thought of the scar on his shoulder and the ones covering his arms. No, he couldn't take his jumper off and trade it for a new one, even though his shirt had long sleeves. It was simply too risky, pulling it up over his head and trading it with another. 'I... can't," said Remus slowly. 'I really like it and all that. But, well... my..." Oh, fiddlesticks. Remus had no idea how to cover this up. "Well, my immune system is awful, and I should probably wash it first."

"Are you saying I have germs?" said James, and Remus cringed.

"No! No, of course not..."

"Only joking." James threw Remus another present. "You're ill. We don't want to push you or anything."

Lo and behold: one of the only times in human history that Remus Lupin was glad for pity.

Remus opened the present, which was from Sirius. He put aside the paper. He opened the small box. In it was... a small metal wolf.

Remus froze.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Fiddlesticks. Sirius knew. He actually knew, and he was teasing Remus about it—giving him a warning—and it was made of silver, too, which meant that Sirius probably meant to kill him (even though, contrary to popular belief, silver wasn't actually harmful to werewolves). Remus looked up at Sirius, who was grinning, and considered jumping out the window to escape.

"Why a wolf?" he said, trying and probably failing to keep his voice as even as possible.

"Because of your name. Remus Lupin. Wolf-Man. I know it's not much, but it's silver, so it'll keep the werewolves away. Since you said that you were afraid of them."

Remus breathed an almost audible sigh of relief and tucked the wolf in his pocket. "Thanks, mate. I'll be sure to pull this out whenever I see a werewolf."

Now that his breathing had mostly slowed, he opened the second present from James, which was a book. Quidditch Through the Ages. "If anything's able to convince you that Quidditch is a brilliant sport," said James, "then a book will."

Remus laughed. 'Wow, thanks." He looked around the room and beamed at his friends.

Sirius' face was glowing at the rare gifts. The camera was still in his hands, and undeveloped photos surrounded him. James was grinning madly and ruffling his hair, happy to have pleased his friends. Peter, who was still beaming as brightly as the sun, was surrounded by neatly folded wrapping paper (Remus felt a jolt of something upon noticing that Peter had copied his habit, but he didn't know what). They came from different backgrounds, different families—goodness, not all of them were even the same species. But they all had the same element of joy to their faces—and, even though Remus couldn't see his own face, he knew that he probably did, too.

This was what is was like having friends. Being human. Being eleven. This was the childhood that Remus had never gotten: his own had been destroyed by wolves and pain and hiding. This was what it was like to be normal, and Remus loved it.

"So," he said, directing his words towards Peter, "are you ready for your final present?"

AN: This chapter would have been out earlier, but the site was glitching. But here it is: a Christmas chapter in September! 'Tis the season, after all!