The knocking on the door was hurried but inconsistent. It was late, and it was cold. Everyone was near ready to go to bed, most of the lights were off and everyone in their pajamas, there should be no knocking at the door, but there was. Rap….rap rap rap….rap rap rap….rap….rap rap….rap. The Potters looked at the door with curiosity. It was James who stood to answer.
It had been snowing, quite badly, for the last several hours. It was piled on the window ledges inches tall. The quiet it demanded outside was loud, but not as loud as the rapping on the door. The snow blew in with great force as James opened the front door. The cold was a stark difference from the warmth inside the Potter’s home. The quiet and the calm that had previously been the Potter residence was equally as disturbed with the opening of the door as well.
“Jamie!” The figure in the doorway shouted. His hands raised above his head excitedly, his body swayed just as much as his words slurred. “Mon meilleur ami!”
Sirius Black was tall and slim and very very drunk. His hair was speckled with constellations of snowflakes, his locks down and loose and just as wild as his nature. His black velvet suit jacket was ripped at the elbow, his tie very nearly ripped off, and his left shoe missing. His cheeks were red, his nails polished, lip split, and hands gripping a half empty bottle of champagne. He should be freezing, but he showed no signs of shivering or shaking. His feet were heavy and uncoordinated as he stepped through the doorway and into the warm hall.
“Sirius!...hi…” James hadn’t been expecting his friend today, much less at this hour or in this state but he wasn’t one to leave anyone stranded in this weather, let alone his best friend. “What’s going on?” James did his best to steady his friend by putting a hand on his chest as the other began to pitch forward.
“Merry Christmas!” Sirius righted himself before he leaned in, giving two wet kisses to both of James’s cheeks. “Et tes parents? Je veux...” Sirius kissed the air a half dozen times “...kiss them too!”
While Sirius tried to push past James and down the hall, James was much more stable and able to wrangle Sirius into his grasp to help guide him down the hallway and into the kitchen.
“Mama! We’ve got a situation!” James called, warning his parents ahead of time.
“A situation?” Sirius commented with disgust. “Tu m’appelles une situation? Je ne suis pas une situation! Je vais vous montrer une situation!”
James wrestled Sirius into the kitchen and very nearly got Sirius into a chair. Sitting was a rather coordinated effort when the world was spinning. Falling to the floor didn’t hurt Sirius, but spilling the champagne did. “No!” Sirius cried as he turned his head and realized the puddle next to him was his bubbly. He began to lick at it off the floor like a dog until a kitchen towel was put in his way to sop it up.
“That’s enough of that now, love.” Mrs. Potter soothed as she mopped up the mess. Sirius continued to writhe on the floor, flopping like a fish as he whined about his loss.
“No! No! That was mine.” The boy began to sob.
The three Potters watched the sight for a moment, saddened and unsure how to proceed. Euphemia wondered what had gotten the boy to this state, James was thinking about how he’d get Sirius upright again, and Fleamont was already thinking about prepping the guest room.
James was the first to intervene. He got down on the floor to Sirius’s level and sat with him.
“Sirius, mate…..” He sighed, not even certain if Sirius would listen to him. “Listen, I’m always happy to see you, yeah? But….to what do we owe the visit?”
He allowed Sirius to blubber for a bit before watching as Sirius pushed himself upright and adjusted to that situation. He was dizzy and unsteady, his face was twisted into an unpleasant smile, it was evident that he was hurting to some capacity but he only let it show for a moment. Once he was upright and aware that all eyes were on him, Sirius lit up to become the bright star he was used to being.
“Merry Christmas!” He repeated again, looking around at the figures staring at him.
“Merry Christmas to you too...” James replied. The edge of concern in his voice did not go unnoticed by Sirius. He squinted at his friend, trying to figure out what his angle was. He didn’t need to wait long, though. The next words out of James’s mouth answered his questions.
“...but, Christmas is in five days.”
Sirius scoffed.
“Noel est dans cinq jours…” Sirius taunted, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out as he spoke. He pretended to spit. “Fine, then I won’t give you your presents.”
James dared to laugh in response. “You brought me gifts? Darling, you shouldn’t have.” James held a hand out to his friend and offered to help him up again. Sirius accepted the offer, getting help from both James and Monty as he was guided to his chair. He could hear footsteps shuffling behind him, cupboard doors opening, water coming from the faucet. A glass was placed in front of him.
“It’s okay.” Sirius mumbled in delayed response. “I forgot them.”
James rolled his eyes but didn’t give it any more attention. Whatever was going on with Sirius right now didn’t need any more attention towards his antics. He needed to focus on getting Sirius more stable, getting an answer out of him as to what was going on.
“That’s alright. Drink your water please.”
Sirius scoffed again. “Je ne veux pas pas d’eau. I do not need it.”
James didn’t speak French, but he knew Sirius well enough to know his friend was refusing. And James knew better than to try and force him right now. Whatever he was running from had to be worse than the hangover he’d have in the morning.
“So you’re spending the night with us, dear?” Mrs. Potter asked as she joined the boys at the table.
Sirius’s demeanor shifted from staunchly flippant to remorseful with the addition of Mrs. Potter’s question. He sighed, looking at her with one eye. It was hard to judge her expression when the world was fuzzy and not quite put together, but her tone didn’t sound angry. Euphemia Potter was kind, she was safe. Even if Sirius was ruining their entire night, he knew she would let him stay. That’s why he’d come here.
“Please.” Sirius murmured. He let his head fall, slumped in front of him with his chin to his chest. Dead weight. Then, he fell forward, allowing his face to hit the table and the water to spill. There was commotion around him, but he didn’t really care. For the first time in a long time Sirius felt like he could rest.
The thud of Sirius’s head against the table sprung everybody but Sirius into action. James picked up the glass, Effie cleaned the water around him. They turned his face to the side and checked his pupils. James complained as Sirius tried biting him when his hand got too close.
“Is he injured?” Monty asked, heading to the potions cabinet to see if there was anything in stock that could help.
“He’s missing a shoe!” James replied. “and his coat’s ripped, look!”
“Upstairs” Effie commanded her son. “Soft, warm clothes. Thick socks. A towel or two?”
James understood the assignment. He rushed upstairs and was quick to grab thick wool socks, sweatpants, and a hand knit jumper he was gifted last Christmas. He tucked a few towels from the linen closet under his arm and ran back downstairs.
Effie pushed back some of Sirius’s hair, Sirius groaned. James was worried, but he knew Sirius well. He knew that deep down Sirius was sad, he was pretty sure Sirius was scared too. James could take a guess at what Sirius was scared of, but he knew the other wasn’t likely to talk about it. Worrying would only make Sirius’s mood worse, so James stiffened his upper lip as he walked back down the hall towards the kitchen.
“Really did yourself in tonight, mate.” James commented, trying to remain relatively neutral, normal.
Sirius groaned again. “Ma tête…” he whined, wincing as his head rolled to look towards James.
“How much did you drink?” James asked as he handed over the clothes to his mother.
Sirius groaned again. He gagged. The room watched as Sirius reanimated, his body moving with the fluidity of a cartoon as he pushed himself up and stumbled towards the bathroom.
James was close behind his friend, but there was nothing he could do to keep Sirius from getting sick on his way. He was close enough to Sirius that he could help him get to the toilet before he was sick a second time, he remained close enough that he could rub Sirius’s back for that. Effie Potter stood in the doorway not long afterwards, watching sympathetically
Sirius was sick twice more before his body began to settle. His head remained slumped against the bowl, his body slumped against James who was still rubbing his back.
“You finished?” James asked quietly.
It took Sirius a moment to reply. He sobbed. “I’m sorry” in whisper.
James shushed Sirius. Sirius continued to be sorry.
A cup of water was pressed into James’s hand, his mother had summoned it for them. James smiled at his mother, thanking her silently.
“Wash your mouth out.” James instructed as he pressed the glass to Sirius’s mouth and encouraged him to take a sip. James relaxed as Sirius did so, praising him as he swished the water around his mouth and spit it out into the toilet. James flushed and encouraged Sirius to sit back.
“I didn’t mean to…” Sirius cried as he slumped against his best friend.
“Didn’t mean to what? Drink this much?” James chuckled. “You say that every time, mate.”
“….kiss him.” Sirius mumbled.
James was quiet for several seconds. He was spurred into action only by another round of sobbing.
“Who?” James asked.
Sirius sobbed again, shaking his head. “The staff boy. The new one.”
James didn’t say anything, but he nodded. He still wasn’t following entirely, but he didn’t disbelieve Sirius. His friend was very drunk and very sad.
“They’re going to kill him!” The idea of his grandmother beheading the blond boy with curly hair who’d only been hired on earlier this month, or his grandfather inflicting the cruciatus on him made Sirius gag. James helped him back over the toilet bowl and began rubbing his back.
“Breathe, man. Nobody’s getting killed tonight.” Though James supposed he couldn’t actually promise that. Still, it’s what Sirius needed to hear.
Sirius gagged but didn’t get sick. He whimpered, shaking his head. “They will. They’ll do something horrible to him. And it’s my fault.”
James didn’t know what to say. His heart went out for his friend, but he couldn’t exactly go storming over to Sirius’s family and demand things change. James barely understood what had happened still.
“So….you kissed a boy and got in trouble?” James asked, trying to piece everything together. That would make sense, though. There were so many things that Sirius’s parents hated, there was an endless list of things he would get in trouble for.
“Bella found us.” Sirius nodded, his words slurring. “And Cissa, Mother was down the hall.”
“Is that where your lip came from?”
Sirius flinched, a look of disgust washing over his face. “Pris avec le personnel! Se mȇier à une classe sanguine inférieure. En emmbrasser un!.” Sirius spit. “Disgraceful.”
The self hatred that was emanating off of Sirius was almost tangible. James knew that Sirius would get sad if he’d drank entirely too much, but it wasn’t a common sight. Sirius’s self hatred usually looked happier than this, masked behind a smile like when he’d first arrived. This was more than self-hatred, though; this was guilt and shame and abuse. James almost wanted to let Sirius stay here forever, he wondered how long Sirius would get to stay with them before having to leave for his family again. He couldn’t very well skip Christmas….could he?
“It was a bad night.” James affirmed. He watched Sirius for a moment, trying to figure out if he was actually going to get sick again or if he could pull him away from the toilet.
James decided to pull him away. He steadied Sirius as he sat the other upright. James was careful to wipe away the sick off Sirius’s lips. James tried to be careful, but still Sirius flinched as the cut along his lower lip was tended to. The slight tremble that followed only increased James’s already present anxiety about tonight’s situation, Sirius very rarely allowed himself to be this vulnerable. As James moved his gaze up to the rest of Sirius’s face he could see that the other looked scared, he looked downright terrified.
“Come here.” James pulled his best friend into a hug and kept him there for a while. He held Sirius until his muscles didn’t feel quite so tense. When he pulled away, he was met with a sad watery smile.
“Let’s get you in something more comfortable.” James suggested, patting Sirius on the shoulder. “Then we’ll drink a glass of water and go to bed.”
Sirius grumbled but he didn’t fight James as he stood Sirius up. He didn’t try and run from Mrs. Potter as she cleaned up his lip and looked at the bruise along his side, nor as she took his temperature or when she checked for frostbite on the foot with no shoe. He whined when the Potters made him move or stand but he didn’t try to escape their grasp as they helped him into warm pajamas. Sirius was cooperative as James helped him upstairs and into bed.
Sirius wouldn’t remember James dragging his own mattress into the spare room Sirius was housed in, he wouldn’t remember the pain potion Mr. Potter brought up and had him take, and he wouldn’t remember James wishing him a Merry Christmas, even though it wasn't Christmas before falling asleep that night. He wouldn’t remember much of that night in the morning, but he would wake up that morning tucked under a handmade quilt in a sweater knit with love and care knowing that he was safe and loved. That feeling was better than any Christmas gift he could ever ask for.