How Rude-olph.
“Why do you always call it that?” Lily idly wondered as she watched James string together a garland of cloves, chestnuts, pinecones and other bits and bobs.
They were hanging out in the Gryffindor Common Room on a slow weekend. James was on the floor, materials spread around him, while Remus half-heartedly flipped through a book, and Lily and Mary were chatting quietly on the sofa.
“What? Yule?” He clarified, not looking up from his work.
She hummed a ‘yes’.
James frowned. “Because that’s what it’s called?”
“But why not just say ‘Christmas’?” Mary joined in, curiously. “I think only my grandparents say ‘yule’ every now and again.”
James paused in his work, looking up at them. “‘Christmas’? As in, the Christian festival?”
The girls blinked at him, Remus’s head lifting slowly.
“I think I’m seeing the miscommunication here,” Lily said, looking like the wheels in her head were turning. “James, what do you know about Christmas?”
He racked his brain to remember. “Is that the one where the guy gets nailed to the stake and then there’s the necromancy that brings him back, or the one where everyone’s a dick to the pregnant lady so she has to shack up in a barn to give birth?”
Slow smiles of disbelief seemed to spread across his three friend’s faces.
“Oh my God,” Lily murmured, seeming highly entertained.
“What?” He asked genuinely. He may not have gotten the full details correct, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten the gist of those myths. “Is it neither?”
“No, it’s the second one,” Remus assured him. “With the… pregnant lady.”
He grinned, pleased with himself. “Cool. Then I know that Christmas is the one about the birth of… that guy. Jesus, I think? And there’s a bunch of people who come to witness the barn-birth — which always struck me as a bit of an invasion of privacy, but what do I know? Anyway, there was something about shepherds and kings bringing gifts. And that’s why Christians exchange gifts on Christmas!”
“I mean… pretty much.” Mary shrugged.
“It’s close enough,” Lily conceded, seeming like she was thinking. “By the way, Jesus gets nailed to a cross, not a stake, on the other one — Easter.”
James frowned. “No, I know my history. Christians strung us wixen up on stakes, not crosses.”
His three friends seemed fascinated by everything coming out of his mouth.
“Maybe so,” Remus responded carefully. “But it was definitely a cross with Jesus. That’s kind of why crosses are such a big feature in Christianity.”
James turned this information over in his mind. He supposed he wasn’t exactly the expert on Christianity, so they were probably right.
“What religion are you?” Mary blurted out curiously. “I mean — does Wizarding kind have a religion?”
“Most Wizarding families have a patron, yeah.” James felt like something was getting lost in translation here, but he wasn’t quite sure what.
“A patron,” Lily repeated like that wasn’t a good answer.
“I’m pretty sure they’re pagan, Lils,” Remus cut in. “The guys always talk about ‘the gods’ — plural.”
Lily and Mary both looked like they finally understood something.
“Oooooh,” Mary breathed out. “That explains the ‘Yule’ thing.”
“What’s your patron?” Lily inquired, seeming brimming with questions. “Or… who is your patron?”
“Who.” James nodded. “And we follow the path of Hecate — my family and I.”
“Interesting.” Lily nodded. “Greek, right?”
“I suppose, originally.” James shrugged. “And where was the Jesus guy from? Israel or…?”
“Touché. Yeah, he was Palestinian, I think,” Lily answered.
“Peter’s mentioned Freya a few times,” Remus added in. “A Norse deity, I believe.”
“Yeah,” James confirmed. “The Pettigrews follow Freya. The Mckinnons follow Diana. The Blacks follow Jupiter and Juno. Although, that being said, I’m not sure Pads or Regulus are continuing down that path. I think Sirius ’s considering joining us on the path of Hecate, but he’s also debating the path of Loki.”
“How did we never know this?” Mary wondered disbelievingly. “I feel like a shit friend for not knowing you guys are religious.”
James paused. “What do you mean when you say ‘religious’?”
Mary scrutinised him. “You worship a God. Sorry — Goddess.”
“I believe in all the gods,” James countered carefully.
“But you only follow one.”
“I have one patron goddess, but I believe that there are many divine powers watching over us,” James told her, to which she frowned.
“I think we’re thinking too much in terms of the Abrahamic religions,” Remus posited to the girls. “Let’s take it back to ancient Greece or something — how a person could believe in all the Greek Gods of the pantheon but still dedicate their life to one particular deity. And they didn’t even have a word for ‘religion’, it was just part of the culture.”
James nodded, feeling like they were more on the same page now. “Yeah, it’s more like that.”
“Fascinating,” Lily remarked. “Do you believe in the ancient Greek myths? Do you think they’re real?”
“Uhm… Me personally, I think they’re more instructive than anything,” James told her. It was a bit of a controversial topic, to be honest. “Are you Christian?”
“I am.” Mary nodded.
“Meh.” Lily shrugged. “I go to church with my parents but I’m rather on the fence.”
“No God would fuck me over this hard,” Remus drawled quietly.
James wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So, instead he carried on with what he had intended to ask. “Mary, do you believe the Jesus myths?”
She blinked multiple times, seeming shocked. “They’re not myths.”
James was pretty sure they were myths. “What are they then?”
She seemed momentarily stumped. But then: “Stories. From the Bible.”
James was still doubtful. “So, because they’re written down, they’re not myths? Some myths from my faith are written down. They’re still myths.” He was starting to confuse himself. “I mean — what even is a myth?”
“A story rooted in faith,” Lily mused delicately. “In a sense, Biblical stories can be regarded as myths, Mare.”
“That feels wrong.” She frowned, disturbed.
“Do you believe in them? Literally?” James wondered again.
She paused. “I believe them to be instructive moral lessons. But some people take them literally.”
Just like James’s faith.
“I guess there are some similarities then, but I’ll admit we don’t really do things like the Christians.” James tried to explain things objectively, based on what he knew about Christianity. “We don’t pray that often. We don’t have services or a book that we all believe in. We don’t even have one name for our faith. And we don’t have churches or temples or anything. It’s commonplace to set up altars in our houses though — my family tend to put ours by the hearth. We make offerings and pour out libations there. I’d say generally, faith tends to be very connected to a person’s family line; my parents taught me, and I’ll pass it on to my kids one day. But we do have annual festivals and rituals like Christians do! Like Yuletide! I guess it’s pretty similar to Christmas!”
“Intriguing,” Lily murmured as they took that in.
“How about, you explain more about Yuletide traditions to us, and we’ll explain Christmas traditions to you?” Remus proposed after a few moments of thought.
James grinned excitedly. “I am so in!”
*
“So the Santa Claus guy has a flying sleigh that is driven by reindeer, and the leading reindeer has a glowing nose,” James eagerly regurgitated the explanation to a rapt Sirius, who was utterly baffled by what he was being told.
“A glowing nose?”
“Rudolph.” James nodded solemnly. “The red-nosed reindeer, who had a very shiny nose. Apparently, it lights the way, and this talent is what got him the respect of the other reindeer.”
Sirius blinked. “Did they not respect him before?”
“No, apparently they were dicks.”
“Oh, fuck them.”
“I did not expect reindeer drama to be part of Christmas lore,” Peter piped up, looking morbidly fascinated, while Remus bit back snickers at the three of them over the breakfast table.
“Me neither, but here we are.” James shrugged. “So, on this sleigh, the Santa guy carries a sack of presents to deliver to children all around the world — and I’m pretty sure he has a time-turner or something, because there is no other way I can conceive that one dude could visit all the children of the whole fucking world in one night.”
“Honestly…” Remus seemed to consider it. “… solid theory. We just tend to suspend disbelief or explain it away with magic.”
“But magic has explanations,” Peter countered. “That’s literally what we study for seven years at school.”
Remus wagged his fork. “Muggles don’t. Magic is an unexplainable force to them.”
The three Purebloods tried to wrap their heads around that for a second. James figured it was kind of like science — which Wizarding kind only heard bits and pieces of but Muggles learned in depth.
“Is there more about the Santa bloke?” Sirius prompted.
James nodded eagerly. “Kids leave out offerings of milk and cookies (or some alternative) for Santa Claus to consume, and/or carrots for the reindeer… which means this guy must have a bottomless pit for a stomach. I mean, I know he’s supposed to be obese, but again, there’s got to be a metabolism potion involved or something.”
“Why is Santa obese again?” Sirius wondered aloud. “Like, it seems kinda rude that the story makes a point of him being fat.”
“Do muggles fat-shame a lot?” Peter continued this train of thought. “Do they fat-shame more or less than Wizarding kind… you know, proportionally?”
Remus took a tired sip of his coffee. “Who fucking knows?”
“Anyway,” James cut back in, “this is the weirdest part—”
“The glowing reindeer nose or the inexplicably obese and omnipresent Santa wasn’t the weird part?” Peter raised a brow.
“Santa breaks into everyone’s homes,” James told them sagely.
Remus almost choked on his coffee.
Sirius thumped him hard on the back as he frowned at James. “What?”
“In order to deliver the presents, he breaks into homes by sliding down the chimney. But not flooing, literally wiggling down the chimney chute,” James explained. “Which feels like an extreme invasion of privacy to me, and if I were the muggle authorities, I would have Santa as public enemy number one.”
“He just… enters without permission?” Peter’s jaw dropped.
“While the family is sleeping.”
“I would want a restraining order.” Sirius sat back with a disgusted look on his face. “I’d be blocking my chimney, presents be damned.”
“I don’t want a creepy old man in my house when I’m sleeping!” Peter nodded vigorously. “What if he snoops? What if he judges my decor? Oh Godric, what if he steals something?”
“Santa isn’t a common robber.” Remus finally seemed to regain himself, laughing at them all.
“How does he even fit down the chimney if he’s so obese?” Sirius asked, which made Peter’s eyes widen.
“What if he gets stuck?”
“That would be embarrassing.”
Remus positively cackled at their conversation.
“There’s got to be magic involved there too,” James asserted confidently.
“And what about houses without chimneys?” Peter pointed out. “Not every muggle home has a chimney, as I understand it.”
“Maybe Santa smashes a window open?” Sirius theorised.
“Oh my God, Santa wouldn’t smash a window open.” Remus wheezed through his laughter.
“Why not? He seems to have a dramatic flair — bright red coat lined in fur, a sleigh drawn by glowing reindeer, the ol’ chimney shuffle when doors exist…”
“Yeah, why doesn’t he just use the door in the first place?” Peter wrinkled his nose in thought.
“Maybe he never learnt how to pick locks,” Sirius postulated jokingly.
“He obviously uses magic all the time,” James reiterated, “a simple Alohomora should cover most muggle locks.”
Remus wiped amused tears from his eyes. “Who knows? Who gives a shit? It’s just a made-up story anyway.”
“This Christmas lore has major plot-holes,” Sirius declared.
“I’ll be sure to tell the muggles.” Remus appeared thoroughly entertained. “Just, for the love of God, do not tell any children that Santa isn’t real.”
“Why not?” Peter frowned. “It’s the truth, right?”
“It’s a cultural thing,” James was proud to be able to explain. “It’s a faux pas to ruin the belief of children.”
Remus gave him a look that was half-proud, half-amused.
“Why should we give a shit about the belief of children?” Sirius pulled a face.
“Oh, none of you are going to stop me from stomping on a child’s dreams.” Peter grinned evilly. “I’m going to find a muggleborn firstie asap.”
Remus sobered up and sighed heavily. “Don’t do that. Come on, it’s basically unforgivable. You’d crush their spirit.”
James nodded. “It’s a rite of passage for the muggles. The parents solemnly tell them the news and comfort them as their spirits break. It’s a step towards adulthood.”
“That’s…” Remus rubbed a hand over his face. “I suppose that’s technically true. I wouldn’t phrase it like that though.”
“How would you phrase it?” Sirius tilted his head curiously.
“It’s not our place to break the news,” Remus replied. “It’s up to the parents when and how they want to tell their kids.”
“Why would they tell their kids a lie, reinforce that lie throughout their formative years, get them to wholeheartedly believe in this lie and to associate it with lots of positive emotions and experiences, only to shatter that faith and ruin Yule — sorry, Christmas — for their children?” Peter inquired slowly. “That just seems cruel. Ritualistic cruelty.”
Remus opened his mouth. Closed it, momentarily lost for words. Opened it again. “To be honest… I don’t really know. I think they only break the news when the kid gets old enough to see the plot-holes, so to speak.”
The three of them mulled this over.
“At least with Yule, we keep believing our whole lives,” James mused thoughtfully.
Remus hummed. “That sounds kind of nice.”
“Wanna visit on Yule?” James offered. “Experience it first-hand?”
Remus blinked in surprise. “Wait, really? You’re not fucking with me?”
Sirius lit up with excitement. “Godric, yes! Please come! I want to spend Yule with you! That would be the best Yule ever!” He startled, realised what he’d said, blushed a tad. “I-I mean— I—” He stammered gracelessly. “I’d get to spend Yule with my best friends!”
“Oh,” Remus played with his food shyly. “That would be nice… spending time with you.” He coughed. “All of you.”
James and Peter exchanged tired looks across the table. This dancing around each other between their best friends had started to get painful levels of obvious, though neither Sirius nor Remus seemed inclined to do anything about it.
Taking pity on them, Peter broke the tension. “You don’t have to come for the whole thing, if you’re worried about sticking out during the rituals,” he mused thoughtfully, salvaging the conversation. “Marls and I always celebrate and do our family rituals at home, then go over to the Potters for the evening. The Potters’ feast is the best thing you will ever taste, I’m not gonna lie.”
“I mean… I’d love to if you’ll have me,” Remus answered with careful hesitance.
“The more the merrier!” James assured him happily. “I’ll write to my parents, but I doubt they’ll object — I mean, I just keep bringing strays home, I don’t think they’ll be surprised anymore.”
“Woof.” Sirius grinned and winked.
“I am not a stray, excuse you,” Peter protested with faux hurt.
Remus just chuckled at their antics. “Alright, I think I’d be down to swing by in the evening when Wormy and Marls come. Which day is it again?”
“Twenty-first this year,” James responded. “The Winter Solstice.”
Remus nodded. “If you have time, you could come to mine and see what Christmas is like on the 25th.”
Excitement surged through James, just as it did the other two. They immediately erupted into a cacophony of gleeful affirmations and pleas.
It may be a month away, but James was already anticipating a Yuletide to remember.
*
“Hey, can you er… can you do me a favour?” Sirius fell in step with James as they walked to class.
“Of course,” he answered instantly. He didn’t need to know what it was to know that he’d do anything for his best mate.
“You always say yes way too easily.” Sirius smirked but he seemed pleased. James rolled his eyes, and they shared a smile for a moment before Padfoot sobered up. “So, you know how I’m not attending any balls this season…?”
James sighed exaggeratedly. “Yes, I know. You lucky sod.”
“Oh, I’m doing you a favour,” he quipped cheekily. “This is the only way you’ll be the prettiest belle at the ball. I wouldn’t want to steal the attention on your debut season.”
He shoved his friend playfully. “As if your ugly mug could steal the attention from me.”
Sirius snorted before refocusing. “I just… I don’t want to run into my parents. I would be there to support you otherwise.”
James gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about it, mate.”
“So, Regulus, on the other hand, still wants to do the whole circuit — balls, luncheons, charity events — the whole shebang. Godric knows why,” Sirius laid it out, staring ahead of them as they walked. James got the feeling he knew where this was going. “And he’d never forgive me for saying this, but I’m worried about him. I was just wondering if you’d keep an eye on him for me? It would mean you going to more events than you normally do, I know, but… I don’t know… I just—”
“Of course,” James cut in earnestly. “Of course, I will.”
Did James want to do the full gamut of events for the Winter social season? Not really. But for Sirius? James would do just about anything. And this would give him the perfect opportunities for his getting-to-know-Regulus mission!
The smile Sirius gave him was small but incredibly heartfelt. “You’re the best, Prongs.”
“I know.” James threw up a cocky smile. “You’re lucky to have me.”
He laughed as Sirius shoved him.