Disclaimer: All wizards, Muggles, magical creatures, magical places, and everything else out of the Harry Potter series was created and is owned by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership of any of the series' content, and I am making no profit in the writing of this fan fiction.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

So…it's been awhile. A looooong while. Life has been crazy busy. Rest assured that I haven't given up on And Thou Shalt Be First. I open up that Word document often to type out an idea or a few lines of dialogue. I have a vague impression of where I want to take the storyline and have already planned the ending, but the path to that point has eluded me for quite awhile. I promise I will see that project to its completion!

Meanwhile, I've wanted to write this for some time. Unlike the other Happy Christmas stories, which are one-shots, this will be delivered in two parts. Part Two is already under construction, and I'm hoping to have it finished by tomorrow night. I honestly thought another year would go by without me posting this story, but I was suddenly hit with a wrecking ball of inspiration today.

I hope you will find this story entertaining.

As always, reviews are appreciated!

saiyanwizard

Happy Christmas, Sirius

8 December, 1995. 6:53am.

Sirius' eyes shot open. He was gasping for air as if he had been running for miles. He felt a few feathers tickle his cheek as Buckbeak stirred in slumber.

Careful not to wake the hippogriff, Sirius quietly pushed himself into a seated position. He inhaled through his nose slowly before exhaling, willing his racing heart to slow down. After a few moments, he felt his body relax and the pain in his chest ebb. As he slipped off the side of the bed, a few of his joints popped.

The floor beneath his feet was a cold as the chill he had felt in his nightmares. Whether he dreamt of ghastly specters lurking on the other side of metal bars or clouds of frost hovering over the Great Lake as he tried to drag his body away from the sound of soul-sucking lips, he awoke weak and shaken, drenched in sweat and barely relieved. He may have escaped the confines of Azkaban and the Dementors, but his current prison at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was similar to his previous one in more than a few ways.

His parents' house was as dim and dangerous as he remembered it. Years of neglect had done nothing to weaken the dark magic that permeated the very walls of the building. For months, he and other members of the Order of the Phoenix had worked to make Grimmauld Place inhabitable, and while there were enough bedrooms to keep all the occupants comfortable, there were still a few corners of the house that could do with an exorcism or two.

Sirius ran a hand through his tousled hair and wondered what to do. There was still another hour or so before sunrise, and the only other occupants currently at Number Twelve were his old schoolmate and the sleeping hippogriff behind him.

Moony, he remembered with a jolt. Last night had been the final full moon of the year. As quickly and as quietly as he could, Sirius pulled on a dressing gown over his pajamas and headed for the bedroom door. Before he reached for the handle, he doubled back and grabbed two pairs of thick socks from the top dresser drawer. He pulled one set on over his own icy toes before slipping the other into the pocket of his dressing gown.

Sirius had not seen much of Remus after fleeing Hogwarts with Buckbeak nearly two and a half years previously. Being a wanted criminal made it difficult for one to visit friends or entertain guests. While Remus did not need to resort to hiding out in caves and eating rats, the meager cabin Sirius had found him in after Voldemort's return spoke of a return to hard times. Sirius' invitation to live with him at Grimmauld Place had been met with slight reluctance but also with relief.

Sirius had sensed a distance between him and Remus ever since his friend had come to live at Number Twelve. The revived comradery at the end of Harry's third year at Hogwarts seemed to have been short-lived, at least for the time being. Ever the polite wizard, Remus had reverted to calling Sirius by his given name and had spent every full moon so far alone in his room on the third floor. Sirius always made sure to check on him every morning after, but he would be lying if he said that still being held at arm's length did not hurt.

As he crept up the stairs to the third floor, Sirius was grateful for the socks he had put on. The air on the landing was chilly, and he could see faint puffs of breath as he exhaled. He passed the first door leading to a bathroom and knocked gently on the door next to it. "Moony, it's me," he said softly. After receiving no reply, he placed a hand on the door knob. "I'm coming in."

The sight that met Sirius on the other side was one that always made his heart twinge with sadness. Remus was lying on the floor with his back to the door, completely naked. His limbs were stretched out in front of him as if he had been running on four legs and suddenly fallen over. Scars new and old patterned the long, slender back. Noticeably—and thankfully—absent were any signs of blood.

Closing the door behind him, Sirius took a few steps and knelt down next to the other man, placing a gentle hand on Remus' shoulder so as not to unnecessarily jostle his friend. "Moony," he murmured.

A sharp inhale followed by a groan passed Remus' lips.

Sirius gave his friend a moment to wake up before trying again. "Moony."

Remus responded after a deep exhale. "Siri…us," he rasped.

"Morning, Moony," he replied. "Let's get you off the floor."

Despite the seemingly easy nature of the task at the hand, the task itself would be far from easy. With Sirius' assistance, stiff arms pushed Remus up into a sitting position. After a couple of shaky breaths, Remus looped an arm around Sirius' shoulders. Placing an arm around the scarred torso, Sirius pulled the other man to his feet. He felt Remus' body tense in pain the entire way up.

"Thank you," exhaled Remus. Whether from the cold or from the pain, Sirius could feel the slight tremor radiate through his friend's body. They stood silently as Remus caught his breath, the arm around his torso strong and comforting. Sirius slackened his grip as he felt his friend pull away. Remus reached for the edge of the bed and toppled unceremoniously next to a pile of neatly folded clothing.

"I still don't see why you don't just sleep on the bed," said Sirius. He turned around to give his friend some privacy as he dressed.

Remus chuckled feebly. "I'd rather not ruin the sheets. I may be in control of my mind, but I'm still prone to lashing out when I initially transform."

Sirius felt himself scowl but said nothing. He could care less about the sheets; Remus' comfort was higher on his list of priorities. Plus, if the sheets were torn, he'd have an excuse to buy new ones. One less thing in the house to remind him of his miserable childhood. Maybe he'd change all the linens in the house to Gryffindor red and gold. Kreacher would have a heart attack….

A sharp gasp behind him made Sirius look over his shoulder. Remus was only half-dressed. He had just pulled on his pajama bottoms and was about to reach for the button-up shirt when a stabbing pain shot through his right arm. He was now clutching it against his side.

Sirius turned toward Remus and looked at his friend closely for the first time in a long while. If he was honest, Remus looked old. His shoulders were slumped under the invisible weight of his condition, and his movements this morning were painfully slow. In the silence, Sirius could hear the rasp of labored breathing.

Not that Sirius could talk. His reflection was a constant reminder of the twelve years of torment he had suffered in Azkaban.

"How're you feeling, Moony?" he asked carefully.

Remus pondered the question for a moment before answering. "Sore," he replied, his expression pinched, "but that's to be expected." He gingerly tried to move his arm. "I may have dislocated my shoulder during the transformation."

"Hmmm," murmured Sirius in response. After a brief hesitation, he asked, "Do you want me to check it for you?"

Sirius could practically hear the cogs turning in Remus' mind. If he rejected Sirius' offer, then their established distance would remain. But if he accepted Sirius' help, it would bring the two wizards closer to what they had been while attending Hogwarts. Remus was an incredibly private person, and isolation came easier to him than most….

That was why Sirius was surprised when Remus merely said, "If you would?"

Trying to hide the sudden spark of elation, Sirius took a couple of strides to the bed and lowered himself next to Remus. Remus had sat up a little straighter and placed the palm of his hand just above his knee. With gentle fingers, Sirius began to palpate around the shoulder joint itself. He saw a few bruises beginning to blossom on Remus' pale skin and did his best to avoid pressing into them. He noticed how Remus would take deep breaths but did not flinch as Sirius examined his shoulder. Carefully, he continued to palpate along Remus' collar bone and down his shoulder blade. "All right so far?"

"I think so," exhaled Remus.

"I'm going to have to move your arm a bit," said Sirius, placing a hand on Remus' shoulder while taking a bony wrist in the other. "I'll go slow."

Remus nodded in reply.

As gently as he could, Sirius raised Remus' wrist until the arm was stretched out in front of him. Remus' eyes were shut tight. His back had become rigid from the pain. Sensing that moving any higher would be agony for Remus, Sirius lowered the arm to his friend's torso before slowly stretching it out to the side. When he lowered the arm again and began to pull it back, Remus whimpered.

"Sorry, Moony," said Sirius. "I know it hurts. It seems like you were right about the dislocation during transformation, but it looks like everything is back in place now. It's going to ache for a couple of days, though."

Remus sighed. "Sounds about right. Thanks for checking." He reached for his pajama top with his good arm.

Before Remus could protest, Sirius took the button-up out of his hands and held it open behind him. Remus gingerly slipped his right arm into the proffered sleeve before doing the same with the left. Once the shirt was pulled over his shoulders, Remus began to do up the buttons.

Sirius watched thoughtfully as shaking hands fumbled around the front of Remus' pajama top. He pulled his wand out from the pocket of his dressing gown, pondered for a moment, and then waved it wordlessly toward the bedroom door. It creaked open halfway.

Depositing his wand back into his pocket, Sirius batted away Remus' trembling fingers and finished fastening the buttons. Straightening up, Sirius retrieved the other pair of socks he had brought with him and handed them to Remus. "You'll need these if your feet are as cold as your hands."

The corners of Remus' mouth turned up as he accepted the proffered socks. "Thank you," he murmured, touched at how thoughtful his friend was being.

As Remus bent over to pull on the socks, he noticed something float through the open bedroom door. Sirius reached out and took hold of what looked like some sort of compress. Drawing his wand for a second time, Sirius tapped the pouch and then waved his arm toward the door, which clicked shut. Pocketing his wand, Sirius placed the compress onto Remus' injured shoulder.

"Sweet Merlin, that's wonderful," sighed Remus. Warmth spread through his arm, easing the aching joint and surrounding muscles. He lifted his good hand over the compress to keep it in place and inhaled deeply. His keen senses detected traces of lavender, and he felt his body start to relax. "Since when have you been able to summon objects from four floors below without waking up your mother?"

Sirius smirked. He nudged Remus toward the headboard so he could fold down the comforter. "I wasn't that bad in school."

"No," agreed Remus, who slid beneath the covers that Sirius was holding open for him, "you were one of the best without even studying. You probably could have been top of the class if you'd actually applied yourself."

Sirius grinned at the thought of their school days. He helped his friend settle in for a much-needed rest, making sure that the compress was securely placed over Remus' shoulder. After tucking the comforter under Remus' chin, he answered the question. "You'd be astonished at what you can accomplish when you're locked up."

Even in his weakened condition, Remus could hear the traces of bitterness in Sirius' statement. He knew his friend was tormented just by being back at Grimmauld Place and viewed the house as another imprisonment. Normally, Remus would have reminded him that it was preferrable to the despair and decay of Azkaban, but he did not have the energy to argue. Instead, he merely frowned tiredly.

Avoiding his friend's gaze, Sirius stood up. "Well," he said, "I'd better let you rest. Let me know if you need anything." He turned and walked to the door.

Remus' voice stopped Sirius in his tracks. "Padfoot."

Oh, how that name could transport him in an instant to happier times. When Remus was more open with him, James was alive, and Peter wasn't a traitor. He felt a lump forming in his throat and did not trust himself to speak. "Hmmm?"

"Would you…stay?" asked Remus, his eyelids already heavy with exhaustion. "Please?"

How could he say no to that? How could he deny Remus when closeness was what he had been longing for since his friend had moved in?

Feeling incredibly tender-hearted, all Sirius could say was, "Of course, Moony." The hand that rested on the doorknob fell to his side as Sirius turned back around and made his way to the empty side of the bed.

Remus tried feebly to pull back the covers. Sirius slipped his legs under the comforter and sat down with his back to the headboard, placing a pillow in between for support. He could feel the warmth of the compress against his thigh as Remus wiggled closer. Reaching down to brush a few strands of sandy hair that had fallen across Remus' face, Sirius thought he heard his friend sigh in contentment.

They had not been this close since their seventh year. The Hogwarts graduating class of 1978 had been thrust into an all-out war as soon as they left the safety of the castle, and while some had tried to stay in-touch with each other, many had eventually gone into hiding or were killed. During their school days, the Marauders had been extra protective of Remus right after the full moon, and Sirius lamented the thought of all those subsequent years when Remus had been forced to endure the pain and suffering alone. Life had been cruel to them both, but Sirius had made his choices. His rash actions had landed him in Azkaban for twelve years, but he had escaped and those whom he loved knew he was innocent. Remus, through no fault of his own, had to pay in agony and bone-crushing every month.

Sirius might be stuck inside Grimmauld Place, but it was a small price to pay in the present if it meant he could be truly free in the future. With Remus at his side, sleeping soundly, and the dream of Harry coming to live with him in the future, Sirius suddenly felt like he could hold on a little longer.

Thank you for taking the time to read this story! Part Two will hopefully be up soon. If you have a moment to spare, I would really appreciate it if you shared any comments, thoughts, or ideas that this story may have provoked. Happy Christmas!