Chapter 71: Christmas Exchange

Sans did get to sleep eventually, if in his usual on-again-off-again manner. And it did take some time to find a good spot to get properly settled down, since his closet-room felt a little too boxed-in at the moment. As much as he liked his wedged-in mattress and its wadded up sheets, he had to admit to a degree of longing for his sleeping arrangements at Hogwarts.

The view from the roof of the Astronomy Tower was phenomenal, after all.

(And stargazing makes an excellent distraction from unsettled dreams.)

In comparison, the roof of Grimmauld Place wasn't even worth it: the lights of London left the sky gray and starless even when the night was clear of clouds. Which, tonight, it wasn't. As a matter of fact, it was threatening to rain.

That said, the small courtyard was a decent enough alternative if one wanted to be outside and there was no chance of stargazing. Very chill—in both senses of the word at this time of year, but it's not like the temperature bothered Sans.

And, thanks to how fluffed up his feathers could apparently get, the hippogriff probably wasn't bothered either.

At some point somebody had made the window of Buckbeak's room quite a bit bigger—by stretching out the frame with magic of course, they didn't just blast a big hole in the wall. It had been made large enough to serve as an exit, thereby letting the hippogriff access some outdoor lounge space. And he clearly spent most of his time outside. The courtyard had probably once been a quaint garden, though it had been a bit of an overgrown mess of sticks even before a massive magical creature decided to forgo the old bedroom and nest in the yard instead. Understandably, as nothing beats having a real sky overhead.

Is Sans projecting? Maybe, but it was still true.

Arms crossed behind his skull as he leaned back against the feathery hippogriff, Sans watched the shadows of clouds overhead and made himself relax. Just lightly dozing under the dark sky.

At some point, he began to notice an almost imperceptible change. Those first signs of the slowly rising sun had always felt odd to him: as if the world was growing fragile rather than lightening. It put a delicate gossamer edge on everything in sight that made them distant and different.

Predawn gray settled over him with a deep stillness.

It was always so quiet at this time of night, of day, of somewhere in between. As much as Sans would love to be sleeping through it, he had to admit it was a beautiful kind of strangeness.

He stood, dusting off his clothes as quietly as he could. It hadn't really rained, but a bit of frost had gathered on his hoodie. Buckbeak shifted when he got up, rolling over slightly with a sleepy chuff, but did not wake.

The door from the courtyard was at the other end of the entry hall, and semi-adjacent to the dining room. He shook the frost from his fuzzy slippers, steadying himself with one hand on a patch of wall between the too-many (three) tinsel-and-glitter wreaths that had been hung up there.

While Sans had been running errands and getting caught and being prophesized at yesterday, the group back in Grimmauld Place had spent the day decorating. That could be considered a bit late, given it had been Christmas Day, but better late than never. From what he'd seen so far, they'd had fun with it.

Also from what he'd seen, some things were not where they'd left them.

Mainly the Christmas tree, as he was fairly certain it hadn't been set up directly on top of the dining room table last night. It was tall enough to poke all the way up through the hole in the ceiling, and thus into the drawing room where it had probably been set up originally. All of the presents had been moved as well—or perhaps they'd been left on the table and the tree was moved to match, Sans hadn't been paying close attention.

The extra holiday stuff meant there wasn't much space left on the table for table activities, like breakfast.

But there was enough space to sit with his feet kicked up, so he didn't particularly mind the added clutter.

Surprisingly, and much earlier than expected, Sirius was the first of the humans to schlump their way downstairs. He looked barely half awake and at least two-thirds longing to return to bed, and from the state of his hair, the man may have slept as a dog.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing up at this hour, Rattles?" he asked around a large yawn.

"i'm not really doing anything in merlin's name."

Sirius scratched a hand through his hair and attempted to straighten out his house coat. Or would they be called house robes, given wizard naming conventions?

"Urg, you know what I mean."

Sans just shrugged. "you told me to be up early. be careful what you wish for."

"Monkey's paw, I suppose." He stretched, then ambled over to the kitchen and the promise of breakfast within. Over his shoulder, he asked, "Any sign of the rest of them?"

"you think a bunch of teens would be awake at this hour? willingly?"

"Hey, it's Christmas. That's the one exception." A pause, both in his speech and the sound of clinking dishes. "Or close enough to Christmas. There are presents to open, that's the main thing."

"ah, but what are presents compared to the wonders of being unconscious."

"You have a point there." He walked out of the kitchen with two plates, each with two slices of buttered toast, and two carefully balanced cups of orange juice. "But also, everyone likes presents!"

"is that why you're up this early?"

Sirius joined him at the end of the table, pushing a few presents farther out of the way to make space for the plates. "I'll have you know I'm only awake because, er…" He paused to take a bite of his toast. "Okay, so I don't have a good reason. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."

Relatable.

"same, actually. but i'll get right back to tryin' if i get the chance." Sans moved one slice of toast off his plate and to his friend's, keeping the other for himself.

Though Sirius gave the added toast a scowl, he didn't shift it back so Sans took that as a win. As the human worked his way through his breakfast, the skeleton thoughtfully nibbled on his single slice.

"so… is all the gift giving stuff gonna happen in here?"

After swallowing his bite of toast and taking a swig of his juice, Sirius looked at the pile of gifts. Then to the tree. "That wasn't here last night."

Sans snorted. "what, you didn't notice when you came in?"

"Look, Rattles, I'd just woken up." He took another bite, gesturing to the decorations with the remainder of the toast. "You can't expect a man to notice little things like that before they've had breakfast."

Sans looked at the decidedly-not-little tree, and then back to his friend.

"…Oh, shut up."

"i didn't say anything."

"You thought it, I know you did." Before Sans could quip back, he continued, "But you're right, this isn't the best place to open presents."

Sirius stuffed the rest of his toast in his mouth and stood up, drawing his wand.

"wizard pajamas have wand-pockets?"

"Of course they do, where else would you put it?"

With a wave of his wand, all of the presents floated into the air. They all drifted behind Sirius as he headed upstairs, trailing along like a bunch of colorful balloons. A few blue magic nudges helped the collection get through doorways alright, but otherwise Sans just followed along and watched. Once they reached the drawing room, Sirius gestured with his wand like a conductor and the gifts settled along the edge of the hole.

So, in a way, they were still under the tree. Adjacent, at the very least.

A few more wand-flicks gathered or conjured some chairs into a comfortable seating arrangement, with the tree tip and its collection of presents in easy reach.

"Can't say I ever expected to look forward to a holiday in this house. Or any regular day, really." Sirius settled his hands on his hips, looking around the room. "Does it actually clean up nice, or are my standards just low?"

"a combination of both, i think."

Eyeing some of the details along the bookcases that had been hidden by cobwebs and dust (and was now partially obscured by garlands), he nodded. "Probably. But still, it's like my family poured tar over a painting."

"uh, speaking of paintings," Sans began—recalling, somewhat belatedly, that the stretch of wall in the entryway had been decidedly less… antagonistic, than it had been the previous morning. "i noticed a particularly garish one seems to be missing."

Sirius smiled, broad and bright. "I know, right? I still can't believe it!"

"…can't believe what?"

"Oh, right, you wouldn't know." He shook his head, still smiling. "Just after you left yesterday, she started screaming her rotten painted heart out. But, get this— Kreacher spoke up against her! And then decided she'd have a better miserable existence stuck in some corner of the attic."

Processing all that, Sans blinked. "well that's one less pain in the behind—or should it be 'paint in the behind'?" Deciding that pun wasn't up to snuff, he shook his head and added, "whatever, glad she's out of the picture."

Sirius snorted. "You can say that again."

"glad she's out of—"

Though he'd just sat down in one of the chairs, Sirius still made a light attempt to smack him. "Hush, you. You know what I meant."

And so the two of them settled in for a lazy morning, enjoying the peace and quiet… in between the friendly jabs and jokes, of course. Sirius in particular seemed to relish the chance to talk, but perhaps it was mostly because he got to do so as a human rather than a dog.

Understandable.

Eventually, the rest of the house began to stir. As evidenced by a perplexed-sounding Remus from the floor below, asking, "…Whose toast was this?"

Sirius probably would have just dropped through the hole if it hadn't been blocked by so much tree, but since it was, he just stuck his arm through. The ornaments clinked and chimed on their branches when he waved.

"Well. That answers that question, I suppose."

"Did you have a good night's sleep, Moony?"

"Are we just going to talk through the ceiling," Remus asked, not sounding tired so much as exasperated, "or are you going to get down here?"

"Coming, coming," Sirius chuckled.

They found him with a plate of bacon and eggs, taking advantage of the cleared table space to have both a partially-covered dish big enough to have food to share and a smaller one with his own portion. Sirius, naturally, helped himself to some second breakfast and friendly banter.

Soon enough, they could hear the not-quite-awake grumbles of teens—specifically of them having an unnecessary spat over who would get to use the bathroom first, not realizing that there was another one available on a different floor. And a few minutes later, no doubt drawn by the smell of cooked bacon, the three kids had made their way downstairs.

Watching a home slowly wake up, brightening with the sun and the sounds of happy voices, was a rare experience for Sans. All the times he'd seen the school from the wrong side of dawn didn't really count: with that many people, it was more like a machine whirring to life.

This was more… mundane. Simple.

Sans had been in a household of two for most of his life, and frankly his brother didn't really experience the whole still-waking-up stage in the morning. Papyrus was always bursting with energy, well-rested despite his claims that sleep was unnecessary in the face of more interesting activities.

When Papyrus was up, he was up.

(Sans often got tired just trying to keep his eye sockets on him.)

He let the soft sounds of morning carry him past the homesick heartache—he didn't even have a heart anyway. Not a physical one, at least.

Anyway, the humans of the house took their breakfast with a side of light small-talk. They chattered about school or the weather or any other little thing that came to mind, and eventually the group migrated upstairs into the more-comfortable chairs of the drawing room. And a bit later still, Sans noticed a new arrival on the street outside.

He stepped out to let their final guest in.

"…Sans?"

"what, ya don't recognize me?"

Perkins quirked a brow. "My, how you've grown," he said, in an amused deadpan. "You've gained some weight since last I saw you."

"eh, not really."

One shared secret later, and they rejoined the group inside—prompting rounds of introductions between the newly-arrived Mark Perkins and the kids.

To his credit, Perkins only considered the hole that the Christmas tree was standing in for a moment before deciding it wasn't worth asking about. Just more proof that taking strange things in stride is the optimal approach.

Since the presents had already been doled out, the unwrapping could begin as soon as everyone settled in their seats. And, as Sirius had mentioned the previous night, Sans had a small stack of gifts waiting beside the last remaining open chair.

Freshly curious, Sans sat down.

Still, as the sounds of tearing paper filled the room, he should probably deal with some things before he gets too swept away by the holiday mood.

Leaning over to Perkins, who was thoughtfully turning a new quill over in his hands, Sans said, "would now be a bad time to talk politics?"

The older man huffed. "Now, what could you mean by that?"

"something… came up, yesterday. about the ministry." Opposite them, Ron excitedly stuffed an orange hat onto his head and Harry held up a large green sweater. But Sans stayed focused. "have you heard any rumors to do with prophecies, especially back in june?"

"That's vague, yet oddly specific."

"it was a vague-yet-oddly-specific kinda day."

Perkins considered him for a moment, then his gaze went distant as he thought it over. "I do seem to recall a few days back in summer that were a bit hectic, but nothing on why." He frowned. "Actually, the Ministry was a bit hectic this morning as well—especially so, for it being just after Christmas."

"what were you doing there today?"

Suddenly Sirius started laughing—nearly falling out of his chair—because… a duck was quacking. Everyone in the room stared at the wooden pull-toy duck quacking amidst the wrapping paper, and as soon as they all saw it, it fell silent.

"Perkins, did you just—" Sirius had to pause to take a breath, nearly choking on his own laughs, "did you just re-gift me my own prank?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione, Ron, and Harry unwrapped a trio of matching boxes with accidentally perfect timing, releasing three small origami dragons into the room. Sirius immediately dissolved back into laughter.

"good one."

"Thank you. It only seemed appropriate."

"so. next question." Sans picked up one of the presents from his stack, but didn't move to unwrap it. "about how you got my name on the list."

No need to specify which list, there was only one that he could mean: the Ministry list of students to attend Hogwarts.

"basically, one of the professors is sticking his nose into things. he has good odds of figuring something out," Sans continued, his usual grin dipping towards a frown. "would that end up getting back to you?"

Perkins just smiled. "I appreciate your concern, Sans, and thank you for the warning. I'll be fine, I assure you."

"but—"

"But," he repeated, cutting in with a pointed sort of emphasis, "that is neither here nor there at the moment! You have gifts to open, so get to it!"

Scoffing, Sans turned his attention to the present he'd grabbed. It was from Sirius, so despite the fact that it was small—not any bigger than his hand—he regarded it with some suspicion. Opening it revealed a little pink balloon cushion.

Cautiously optimistic, Sans gave it a squeeze.

"…fuzz-butt, that is not the noise a whoopee cushion should make."

Sirius, in the exact same tone that Perkins had used earlier, just said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sans squeezed it again, and again it made that buzzy-whirring noise, pitch swooping from low to high. It reminded him of some cheap human toys—'party favors', according to the dirty torn packaging—that Monster Kid had found in the dump once. Found, and proceeded to terrorize the rest of Waterfall with until they were confiscated.

Another squeeze, another buzzy-whir.

With a put-upon air that didn't quite ring true with his grin, Sans said, "i suppose it'll work just as well."

Harry and Hermione had apparently had similar ideas for what to give him, if in different directions: a small pot of invisible ink and a normal-pen style of quill, respectively.

The next gift he opened was a similar size to the others: a Chocolate Frog Card, already opened but carefully closed back up. Although the frog it would have come with was gone, it had been replaced by a piece of normal chocolate. The wizard depicted on the card was some guy named 'Edgar Stroulger', who was apparently famous for inventing something called a 'Sneakoscope'.

And, as Sans read off the card: "'he nearly went mad keeping secrets'. okay, that feels a little targeted."

The tips of Ron's ears went pink, but he stared straight back. Then, with that same overly genuine tone the others had used, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sans chuckled. "phrase of the day, i guess."

"THE INDIGNITY! BETRAYAL! MOONY, HOW COULD YOU?!"

Remus was grinning like mad. "I don't know—"

Sirius cut him off with a sharp gesture, flopping the four bright pink doggie booties he was holding in his friend's face.

"What, it's a perfectly reasonable gift!"

Turning away from the ongoing comedy, Sans picked up the last—and largest—of his presents.

"That's from both Perkins and myself," said Remus, still mid-'argument', before nonchalantly catching and tossing one of the pink booties back at Sirius. "We hope you like it."

It was a blue jacket.

Not a hoodie, like the one he was already wearing, but something closer to a proper winter coat. The jacket was no doubt a lot warmer, for those who could notice such a thing. The outside was some material that felt like it was probably water resistant, and it was lined with a white fleece with matching fluff along the edge of the hood.

Sans slipped off his hoodie, fingers lingering on the worn hem and catching briefly on the nicked teeth of the zipper. It was certainly sentimental, though not all the sentiments were positive.

He pulled on the jacket.

New.

Different, though it was almost the exact same color.

Very comfortable, admittedly.

"thanks." He could feel some of the fluff brushing against his skull, and found his smile softening to match. "it's very nice."

"And warm," Perkins remarked. "So perhaps the other students will stop worrying that you'll freeze to death this winter."

"how'd you know about that?"

"Guilty!" chimed in Sirius. At some point he'd unwrapped a navy blue sweater knit to have a capital 'P' front and center, which he was now proudly wearing over his pajamas. The colors clashed horribly, but a lot of weird fashion can be overlooked in the face of a confident personality.

Sans glanced between them. "do you guys gossip about me in the two-way journal?"

The grin he got in response was all the answer he needed.

"Um… sorry if this is a dumb question, but what is this?"

Harry was turning a plain silver bangle over in his hands, as if checking it over for any tricks or pranks—a reasonable concern, given it was a present from Sirius. However, it didn't spontaneously burst into a cloud of glitter or twist into some kind of finger trap. He held it up.

Sans got a better look at it from its new position, catching sight of some familiar runes, and blinked. "wait, is that what i think it is?"

"Yes, but also, at the moment, no." Sirius carded a hand through his hair, suddenly nervous. "I figured Harry should get to choose, and I wasn't sure if he'd like the idea to begin with, and—"

"What are you talking about?" Looking between his godfather, the bracelet, and Sans in confusion, Harry asked, "What is it?"

"a nice disguise, eventually."

Ron scooted a bit closer. "That little thing?"

"Just the base, right now. Harry will get to pick what it'll look like." Drawing his wand, Sirius reached over with it and tapped the bangle lightly, causing the half-complete symbols along its side to glow softly. "Assuming you'd want a—"

"YES!" Even Harry himself looked startled at how loud that was, and when he continued he was obviously trying to be quieter. "Yes, I— That would be amazing!"

"You could come with us to Honeydukes again," Ron added, sounding excited, "without being mobbed or chased or anything."

Hermione, without even looking up from her book, was more realistic. "But they would still recognize us as his friends—it would likely still happen, just by association."

"Unless you lot looked different, too." A smile was creeping up on Sirius's face, likely because of the prank potential.

At that, she had to pause her page turning to shoot him a skeptical glance. "We'll only be here for the day, can you even make more of those that quickly?"

"I've had some practice," Sirius said, with his usual confidence, "courtesy of 'Patrick Pawdy' and Sans over there."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then at Sans. "Wait. You mean that," she vaguely gestured from white-haired tip to pink-slippered toe, "is a disguise? Why would you pick a disguise that's so…"

"Weird?"

"I was going to say 'eye-catching', Ron."

"oh no, trust me," Sans said, "i look much weirder without the disguise."

The trio of kids shared a puzzled look, especially when they noticed all the adults seemed to be nodding in agreement.

"The color—or lack thereof—was because it was supposed to just be a prototype, and he won't let me change it. And I have nothing to do with what he chooses to wear," Sirius defended. "Those slippers are his choice and his choice alone."

"he might not like it, but i put my foot down."

"Right into a mistake—"

He was cut off by an expertly thrown candy from Remus, which bounced right off his nose and onto his lap. "Look at what you're wearing right now, Padfoot."

Sirius glanced down at himself, as if he'd forgotten what he had on: plaid pajama pants and a plaid shirt in different patterns, though the latter was now stuffed awkwardly under his new knit sweater. "I'll have you know this is perfectly reasonable clothes for lazing around the house."

"so are slippers."

"We both know damn-well that you don't just wear those in the house."

The disguised skeleton—dressed in his new outdoor coat that he was definitely going to wear indoors and his old indoor slippers he was definitely going to wear outdoors—just shrugged, smugly.

Then the grandfather clock began to chime the hour: one, two, three, all the way up to eleven strikes. Sans paused, counting and considering, letting the rest of the rowdy and happy chatter continue around him.

Eleven o'clock.

Right.

Lunch at Hogwarts began at around this time, which meant he'd need to head out soon lest somebody notice his absence.

Frankly speaking, it wasn't just him; it was a risk to have the rest of the kids miss lunch too. Sleeping through breakfast was understandable, given how late the party went, but skipping the midday meal as well was a little more suspicious.

That said, as Sans considered the holiday nonsense they all seemed to be so thoroughly enjoying, he decided it was probably worth it to let them stay. They'd be back by dinner anyway, and could just tell anyone who asked that they had gorged themselves on candy for lunch. It'd probably be close enough to the truth anyway.

He stood up, tucking the deviant whoopee cushion into the pocket of his lovely new coat and dropping everything else he was taking through a shortcut to his rarely-used bed in Ravenclaw Tower.

"well, fellas," said Sans, catching their attention with a light clap, "i'm gonna need to head out. face up to my crimes an' all."

"Detention, right?"

"after lunch for at least a week."

Harry grimaced, sympathetic.

"When will you be taking us back, then?" asked Hermione. "Should we all return now, just in case they notice we're gone?"

Sans shrugged. "eh, i'll be out in time to bring you back for dinner."

She didn't seem fully convinced, but Harry and Ron had a guilty-relieved look to them that meant they were likely happy to spend more time away from the school. Perhaps because Hermione was the only one who'd brought any of the homework they needed to do over break, and she couldn't very well nag them into working on material they didn't have with them. Or rather, she would, but they had a decent excuse to put it off.

"after lunch, before dinner." He nodded to himself. "probably on the earlier end of that, if you're concerned."

After a round of 'goodbye's and 'good luck's, Sans walked out of the room and on to his bed back at Hogwarts. He stepped carefully around the presents he's sent ahead, wobbling slightly as the mattress squooshed underfoot, and grabbed for the four-poster drapes as much for stability as to pull them open.

As Sans drew back the curtains around his bed, he felt the stay-shut and two-way-silence charms woven into the fabric peel back in tandem. Very useful features; presumably intended for bookish students to be able to read late at night without bothering (or being bothered by) their roommates, but it certainly helped his own sneaking efforts. And admittedly, it did make it a nice quiet place to sleep.

"'Bout time you were up, Skelton."

Surprised—but keeping his smile unchanged—Sans turned. "i find there's no use rushing sleep," he said, shrugging. "did ya need me for something, stewart?"

He didn't really interact with his various roommates all that much, which he assumed was a beneficial arrangement—it meant it was basically a room with three residents instead of four, not counting the dog. Though frankly, Sirius used the space only marginally more than Sans did.

(While some of his alternative sleep spots could easily have a pet bed added, the roof of the Astronomy Tower in particular was not very dog-friendly.)

Stewart was sitting on his own four-poster bed at the other side of the room, a thick book open on his lap. Despite being the one to speak up first, he looked suddenly sheepish. "Er, no, I don't need anything. Me and the rest, we were just starting to wonder if you'd noticed your presents."

Sans blinked. "presents?"

The boy gestured to the end of the bed, to the trunk Sans very rarely opened. And indeed, there was a small collection of gifts there.

"We all exchanged gifts yesterday, but you didn't seem to be around for yours. And they were still there after breakfast," he said, tone making it almost a question. "We figured you must've missed them somehow."

Nodding, but very much still confused, Sans approached the unexpected presents. Two were about the right size and shape to be books, one was small and very square, and the fourth looked to be wrapped a bit haphazardly. He picked up that last one—on closer inspection, the wrapping paper was probably regular parchment amateurishly charmed to look more festive and colorful.

It didn't have any names on it, but, given the boy's renewed nervous fidgeting, Sans had a good guess who it was from. Unfolding the gift wrap revealed a stack of three chocolate frog cards, bringing his total unwitting collection up to four.

"you didn't have to get me anything."

"We, uh… Noah, Gerald, and I—" it took Sans a moment to place the names as his other two roommates. Almost defensively, Stewart finished, "We all had some doubles. I don't know if you collect 'em too, but it could get you started."

"i don't really, but i did just get a 'edgar stroulger' earlier."

"Really? I don't know if I've got that one."

"i'd give it to ya, but i think i have to keep it for at least a day or two." He shrugged again, lamenting social convention. "thems the rules with gifts. guess i'll have to figure something else out."

It would seem there'd be more candy making in his almost-immediate future.

Stewart laughed a little, still sounding a bit self-conscious, and fiddled with the edge of one of the pages in his book. "It's nothing. Like I said, we had doubles anyway. And, I mean, both of them always snore and I know my stuff is kind of a mess, but it hasn't been bad to have you as a roommate, so. Yeah."

Ah, so it was like a consolation prize for not being horrible to share space with—though in this instance it's mostly because he wasn't actually in the space very often. Just one look at his room back in Snowdin would disavow anyone of any notion that he might be a tolerable roommate.

"still, thanks."

Sans picked up the other non-book-shaped present next, which was apparently from Laura. It was a selection of those 'Cheery Cherry' lollipops she'd once shared with him, but seemingly not limited to just 'cherry' flavor. Other flavors included 'Grinning Grape', 'Lively Lime', and… 'blueberry'. He rolled the blue lollipop between his fingers, regarding the comparatively mundane-named candy with suspicion.

A small card tucked under the lollipops simply wished him a Happy Christmas, though given the nature of the gift itself she seemed to have taken at least some initiative on making that happen.

And since treats are exempt from that re-gifting rule and should always be shared, he had no qualms asking, "hey, want one of these lollipops?"

Stewart had half returned to reading his book, but the intrigue of present opening meant he'd still been watching from the corner of his eye. He startled. "A lolly? Uh, what kinds do you have?"

"cheery, grinning, lively, and blueberry."

The boy blinked, then seemed to catch on. "Oh, Cheery Cherries!" Apparently he was familiar with them. "The grape ones are my favorite."

"can do." Sans plucked out one of the purples and tossed it over, with just a touch of blue magic to correct Stewart's fumbled catch.

He turned back to the remaining gifts, opening one of the two suspiciously book-shaped presents and confirming that it was, in fact, a book. Specifically, it was a joint gift from his professors—McGonagall and Flitwick. From a quick skim, it seemed to be a primer on wand usage aimed at foreign wizards unused to stick-waving.

Sans hadn't known that there were parts of the human magic community that didn't use wands, he should look into that. Though, from the tone of the thin book's preface, that practice was looked down on by most European wizards. Which at least explains the note from McGonagall tucked into the front cover: a disclaimer that the book held some 'distasteful opinions, but should nonetheless prove a useful reference', at least for practical applications transitioning from wandless magic.

Odd warning, but potentially very useful overall.

The second of the suspiciously book-shaped presents was also, unsurprisingly, a book.

As with the very first of these extra (unexpected) gifts he'd opened, this last didn't have a sender name written on it. But in contrast to that improvised wrapping job, this present was tucked in pristine green paper. Of course, the color and fact that it didn't have a name on it—meaning plausible deniability for the sender—made Sans suspect it was from Cassius.

Opening it to reveal an astronomy textbook was really just a final confirmation.

As it was a magic book, the illustrations of the constellations actually twinkled. He couldn't help but think an actual science book with moving graphics for diagrams or planets and stars would be even better, but the wizard version only really wrote about the alignments of planets and constellations for the purposes of magic.

He flipped through, admiring the illustrations. Perhaps he should try to get Cassius a mundane textbook on space, to return the favor. Even as a pureblood, he'd probably find it interesting.

"I'll, uh, I'll head down first?"

That statement sounded more like a question. Sans looked up from a particularly interesting image of a rotating Earth: the continents were slightly off, from what he knew of either world. He spotted his roommate standing—waiting, perhaps—by the door.

"ah, yeah. i guess i'll go, too."

Reluctantly, he stood and set aside his new book. It was a wonderful distraction—all of this gift-giving stuff was, really—but stalling would get him nowhere. Time to face detention.

"well, lunch first," he muttered to himself.

Then detention.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Presents!

The holidays there were pretty rough. For me, I mean—though Sans certainly had some troubles, too! I actually caught covid just in time for Christmas, which sucked on a great many levels. Luckily I didn't have it too bad, mostly nose and throat crap with a side of persistent exhaustion.
(Being asleep for ~12 hours and still being tired just isn't fair!)

So, yeah. Get your vaccines (and booster shots) if you can!

Happy to be back in action! If later than I wanted.
Man, and the chapter had been on-track to be posted on Christmas. Well, on-track for how long I was thinking it'd be. With the extra time, it's ended up nearly twice as long as I was expecting so that's a plus!

Anyway!
I hope you all had happy holidays, and that everyone's New Year is going well so far!

The next chapter I'll post will hopefully be for The Undesired Second Chance, though given how the plot for that one is really digging in its heels I might end up switching focus back to this story. (It's always a blast to write Sans, seriously.)
Thank you all so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews!

Join the Discord if you're interested! Invite code: m3CFXnC

Stay safe, and see ya on the flipside, everyone!