Happy Howlidays! - the Lupin Family
Just as he’d said, Mrs Lupin went straight for the kitchen when they got back to the house. It was a modest two-story dwelling with a short stone wall bordering the front lawn, a rickety gate swaying in the wind that Remus informed them the family never bothered closing. Small hanging baskets framed the door, though the flowers were shrivelled or absent from the cold, whilst a thicket of overgrown rosebushes lined the garden. James knew that if his Mum were here to see them, she’d beg Mrs Lupin to let her prune the bushes for her.
Inside, the house was extremely cosy, a myriad of blankets and pillows thrown about across every seat in an eclectic colour palette. There were also books everywhere you looked, squashed into overloaded bookcases and piled haphazardly in stacks on the floor. The Lupins darted through the maze of it with practiced ease whilst James carefully picked his way through, hoping to Merlin that he wouldn’t accidentally knock one of the book towers over.
The boys settled onto the sofa in the living room, Mr Lupin fiddling with the telly-vision box to turn it on. James was endlessly intrigued by the little people on the screen, and constantly bewildered by how the thing worked, no matter how many times Remus, Lily, and Mary had tried to explain it to him. As far as James was concerned, the thing may as well have been magic.
This time, however, he found himself wandering into the cramped kitchen at the end of the hallway. There, he found Mrs Lupin bustling about and fighting for counter-space to prepare some potatoes.
“Need any help?” James offered shyly. “I always help my parents cook at the holidays. I’m really good at cubing potatoes.”
Mrs Lupin’s thin face shot up, surprised. She had crinkles at the corners of her eyes from smiling. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, dear. You can sit with your friends.”
“May I help if I want to?” James tried carefully, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I really do like cooking.”
A look of surprise washed over her face, but she quickly schooled it into a warm smile. “In that case, you’re welcome to.” She beckoned him over.
“Thank you, Mrs Lupin.”
“Oh, call me Hope, dear. Now, I like my potatoes skin on…”
So, James helped Mrs Lupin — Hope — in the kitchen for the next hour or so. She seemed surprised and impressed by his skills, which had James boasting pridefully about his Mum’s cooking and her teaching of him. Hope seemed shocked by this too, as though it was strange that his parents expected James to know how to feed himself, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she asked about the Potters’ baked and glazed ham they’d served on the Solstice, and they quickly delved into a conversation trading recipes and stories of kitchen mishaps. Mr Lupin and Remus both ducked in a few times to check on them, only to smile and retreat when they saw the two clearly getting along.
James found he liked Hope a lot. She was a sweet woman with a sharp mind and an open demeanour, but James could also see where Remus got his sailor’s tongue from. He gaped the first time she swore a (disproportionate) blue streak as she looked around for the knife she wanted. It was almost bizarre to watch the generally genteel wisp of a woman speak words filthier than the floor at the Hog’s Head. And he was just a little bit scared when she finally found the knife and brandished it with a triumphant gleam in her eye.
Eventually, they finished their work, at which point the Lupin men came to heel and obediently began ferrying dishes from the kitchen to the dining room at Hope’s command. James watched on with a bitten back smile of glee at the easy way the two beanstalks of men (Remus’s height was undoubtedly from his father) unquestioningly obeyed the tiny little woman.
The meal was excellent, though in James’s opinion, not quite as good as his parents’ work, not that he would ever voice that. Instead, he heaped on enough praise to make Hope blush, which she turned back on him twofold. It made him preen rather than flush, always happy to have his cooking appreciated. The others ensured to lavish Hope (and James) in compliments too, Sirius moaning in delight around the stuffing in a way that had Remus dropping a napkin into his lap. Suspicious timing there, Lupin. James saw it.
Before dessert, they decided to take a break and exchange gifts. So, Remus and Mr Lupin partially cleared away the table with the help of Peter and Sirius, whilst Hope watched on approvingly, and James was forbidden from joining in.
“We cooked, so it’s their responsibility to clear up,” she told him emphatically, leading him over to the sofa. “It’s the least the men can do after we’ve slaved away.”
James idly noticed that Hope didn’t seem to include James in ‘the men’ in this context, and how genuinely surprised she’d been that he could cook. He wondered if it was because he was a ‘child’ — he may be of age in the Wizarding world, but he was still considered a minor in Muggle culture — or because he was a man. She obviously hadn’t taught Remus to cook, and it seemed that she had no intention of doing so. She did know he was gay though. Perhaps it had never occurred to her that her son wouldn’t have a woman around forever to cook for him? Maybe he should host a small cooking course for his friends — just the basics, just enough to survive. Godric knew Sirius would need it, but it’d probably help Remus and Peter out too.
Afraid of offending her, James didn’t dare to say any of this out loud, and instead chatted lightly about her plans for dessert, offering to help again. He faux-nonchalantly mentioned his father’s love of baking and watched the surprise flicker in her eyes rather than on her face this time. He told her how similar it could be to the process of potion making, and how that was his Dad’s career; she seemed far less affected by the notion of a man in such a role in a professional context, like it was far more normal for a man to cook/bake/brew as a job, than it was for a man to do such things at home.
She didn’t speak on any of this, though. Instead, she shot out so many questions about Potioneering that James left the conversation sure she’d be a Ravenclaw if she were a witch at Hogwarts. Although, he probably shouldn’t have been surprised, given the books all around.
When the others returned, they exchanged gifts, a flurry of hands passing parcels about, until everyone had a small pile to unwrap. James was touched to receive a neatly wrapped gift from the Lupin parents, though they seemed equally pleased when James and Peter handed presents over in return. Sirius, who clearly hadn’t thought about this, declared James’s gifts as joint ones from him and James. James didn’t correct him and seamlessly nodded his head, smile never faltering, though he did shoot his best friend a pointed look of amusement later. Sirius mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ that nearly made him snicker.
He’d received a few owls from his other friends throughout the day — Lily, Mary, Marlene, Benjy, and the Prewett boys — all of them thanking him for their various Christmas gifts. He’d also given his parents their presents before he left, Mum beaming at the shoddily knitted scarf he’d attempted to make for her, and his Dad over the moon about his new Potions Periodical subscription.
Now though, Mr Lupin thanked him with a gleam in his eye as he beheld the quality bourbon James (and Sirius, supposedly) got for him, eyes widening in pleasant surprise at the brand and the age of the bottle. Truthfully, James knew jack shit about muggle bourbon, and had simply allowed the shop assistant to direct him towards one of their most expensive bottles, figuring the higher the price tag, the better the taste. Probably. Hopefully.
“This is too generous,” Mr Lupin murmured.
James smiled, pleased. “Does that mean you like it?”
“Like it? This is Michter’s.”
Remus huffed. “James here has absolutely no sense of what is too much. I’ve learned to accept it by now.”
This made James frown. “Did I go overboard again? I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m appreciative,” Mr Lupin jumped to assure him. “This is a very nice gift, thank you.”
“Thank you for having us over,” James returned. “I’m having a really wonderful first Christmas.”
“You’re such a sweet boy,” Hope gushed, smiling warmly at him. “We’re happy to have you. You’re welcome any time.” Her eyes flicked to the others. “That goes for all of you.”
Peter and Sirius beamed, thanking the adults for hosting them.
Hope too seemed very pleased by the books James (and Sirius) had gotten her. The first was a special edition set of the tales of Beedle and the Bard. “They’re children’s stories,” James explained to the rapt woman. “I thought you might be curious about the kind of stories wix usually grow up on.”
“They’re like the Grimm Brothers tales,” Remus informed her, which had her tracing her fingers over the foiled cover reverently.
“Fascinating,” she murmured, “I can’t wait to read them.”
James then pointed at the remaining stack of books which he’d tied together in twine. They were also limited edition covers, though he didn’t mention that part, fearing now that he’d gone a little too far. “I heard you like romance novels but haven’t read any Fifi LaFolle, so I —we — got you her first five.”
“She’s a witch?” Hope peeked at the blurb of one of the books, scanning it quickly.
“Yes, a Half-blood. And a Ravenclaw. Apparently, she was inspired a lot by the romances in her own life, and her first book is actually about her husband, who’s a muggle.” James smiled. “She turned her love story into a work of art. I’ve always thought that was rather cool, though I’m not much of a reader myself.”
Hope stared at him, her eyes shining a touch wetly. “James, Anywl, I’m going to hug you now.”
James grinned, not hesitating to dive in. “Good choice then?”
“Yes.” She cradled him fiercely. “Yes, you sweet, sweet boy.”
Peter seemed pretty ecstatic with the chess set James had gotten him, heaping on praise as he eyed the ornately carved figures with immense interest and barely paying attention to anything at all after that. And Remus seemed chuffed with the witch light and easy reader James had gotten for him. The witch light Remus compared to a torch — it was a small stone that emitted light when tapped and activated, and the intensity of it could be adjusted to a person’s preferences. The intention being so Remus could read well into the night if he so chose. The easy reader was a little clip that one could attach to a book which allowed it to float in place wherever you put it. This one turned the pages for you too with a key word. Remus seemed happy, both he and his mother testing the latter item out on various books and giggling delightedly at watching it work.
“This is brilliant, Prongs,” Remus breathed out, “Just brilliant.”
The final gift James distributed was to Sirius, who eagerly tore open the paper to reveal the locket James had gotten him. On the face was an intricate engraving of the Potter crest, the familiar shape of an adder curled protectively around a rose.
“It’s an heirloom,” James explained, scooting closer to pop the clasp open. Inside was a tiny painted portrait of a man and a woman facing front and smiling. “My ancestor, Charlus Potter, gifted it to your ancestor, Dorea Black, when they married. That was the last time our families merged. It was in rough shape when I dug it out of the vault — rusted over so much it wouldn’t even open. But I fixed it up for you. I think it belongs in your hands, since you’re the first Potter-Black to come around in years.”
Sirius was silent for a long time as he stared at the smiling faces of their ancestors. When he finally looked up, James was horrified to see tears wetting his cheeks.
“Godric! I didn’t mean to make you cry!” James swiped at his best mate’s face, hastily trying to rid him of his tears.
Sirius sniffled, a wet laugh escaping him. “They’re good tears. I’m just a mess every time you or your parents imply that I’m family to you.”
“You are family to me,” James assured earnestly. “We’re brothers in every way that matters.”
“Oh Merlin, that’ll do it!” Sirius bemoaned, a fresh wave of tears spilling out as he fanned at his face, trying fruitlessly to stop his crying. “Set me off again, why don’t you!”
“I’m sorry. I just really love you, Pads.”
“For the love of magic, stop talking! You’re not helping!” Sirius buried his face in James’s shoulder and sobbed.
In return, James wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into a hug. “I really didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“You’re a sop!” Sirius lamented through hitching breaths. “A stupid bloody sop!”
“Yeah, I know.” James rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back.
When Sirius finally recovered, he bitched for a solid five minutes about his blotchy face, declaring it all James’s fault. All in all, James thought he did a pretty good job for his first ever round of Christmas gifting.
On the other end, he received a whole bevvy of wonderful gifts. He got a large package of muggle sweets from the Lupins, which he thanked them for profusely, sifting through them with immense curiosity. From Peter, he got a new broom care set, complete with seven different types of polish for him to try, and Remus gifted him an ingenious wand holster that accioed his wand back for him after thirty seconds of separation. He heaped thanks upon them both, praising how useful both gifts would be. Sirius handed him a small box which held a muggle watch in it; it was a simple piece, though it was plated in gold, and James was mesmerised by the way the little hands ticked perpetually round. James adored it with every inch of his being. He was practically walking on air from it all, joy obviously radiating from him in waves.
After dessert, they all investigated their gifts further, James sampling his new sweets and playing a game of chess against Peter with the new set. Hope and Remus crowded around her new copy of Beedle and the Bard, reading through a couple of tales whilst Mr Lupin answered questions for them and sipped on his new bourbon with a smile.
Following that, they piled onto the sofas and settled in to watch Christmas films on the telly-vision. James barely understood what was going on in the story, but he didn’t much mind since he was squished comfortably between Remus and Peter and sipping on a mug of hot chocolate Hope had whipped up. As the film went on, Sirius and Remus cuddled closer and closer together, and Peter fell asleep on James, drooling all over his shoulder. James decided he liked Christmas very, very much.