Bells will be ringing
The sad, sad news
Oh, what a Christmas
To have the blues
December 25, 1981
Someone hung silver bells on the Potters’ house for Christmas in 1981. Hundreds of little silver bells, singing a sweet tune which pierced the frosty December air. A picture of the house was put on the front page of the Daily Prophet on December 25, and Remus Apparated to Godric’s Hollow practically the second he saw the photo. The house was indeed adorned with bells, as was the statue of the Potters. No wreaths, no trees, just bells. Remus couldn’t help thinking that Lily would have scoffed at the half-hearted decorations had she been alive to see them.
Maybe the person who put up the bells thought it was a kind way to commemorate James and Lily. To Remus, it was just cruel. All he could hear as the bells chimed was a song reminding him of everything he was missing. It was bad enough that he was stuck in misery the rest of the time; these people just had to go ruin Christmas too? He’d been having a good day! He’d been rereading his journal from last Christmas, reading about his friends for once without even needing a beer! Why did this have to happen? Why him?!
My baby’s gone
I have no friends
To wish me greetings
Once again
December 25, 1980
Remus woke up on Christmas morning of 1980 enveloped in Sirius’ arms. He groaned and rolled over. “Time to get up?”
“No.” Sirius buried his face into Remus’ neck.
“Okay.” Remus closed his eyes and was about to drift off to sleep when he realised he wasn’t in his own bed. He was in… the guest bed at James’ place? Why? And who could he hear coming up to the door?
“Moony? Pads?”
Remus smelled fresh grass and fancy wood. Prongs. The door swung open and James stood in the doorway for all of two seconds; then he cringed back, covering his eyes. “Eurgh! What are you two doing?”
“Just cuddling, nothing else.” Remus rolled his eyes at James.
“Right, then up you get. It’s Christmas!”
“Did someone say Christmas??” Sirius practically leapt out of bed. A second later, a shaggy black dog had thrown himself at James’ feet, wriggling excitedly. Apparently, Sirius Delight™ was contagious, because when Remus slid out of bed, James was sprinting downstairs with Padfoot on his heels, barking happily.
The living room smelled of pine needles and sugar cookies. Lily, holding baby Harry in one arm, wordlessly handed Remus a cup of coffee, which he accepted gratefully. It tasted like gingerbread. Christmas brew, then.
“Extra strong,” Lily told him.
“To manage our extra hyper husbands,” Remus sighed.
“It’s Christmas, Rem, let them be hyper,” Lily laughed.
“They’re like little kids. We can’t just let them be hyper. They could – ”
There was a crash from one of the other rooms. Lily and Remus shared a panicked glance. Lily took off running.
“And this is before the sugar rush,” Remus groaned, chasing after her.
Choirs will be singing
Silent Night
Christmas carols
By candlelight
December 25, 1981
Remus flopped on his bed and lay there, face smushed into the pillows. He could still hear the tinkling of the bells ringing in his ears. He could imagine other people celebrating with their families; eating dinner and opening presents and sipping eggnog from wineglasses. Why couldn’t he have one happy Christmas?
Vaguely, he remembered hearing Sirius singing Christmas carols last Christmas. What had he sung? Rudolph, obviously… Deck the Halls… Silent Night? Oh, yes, that was a good one. It sounded so nice in Sirius’ lilting French accent. Silent night… Holy night… All is calm… All is bright…
Right. Yeah. All is bright. Sure.
Round yon virgin mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace… sleep in heavenly peace…
That’s right. James and Peter and Lily and Marlene, all in heavenly peace now. Very heavenly. Ha.
Silent night… Holy night… All is calm… All is bright…
All was not bright. Not now. Maybe it was, once.
Now, all Remus could see was darkness.
Please come home for Christmas
Please come home for Christmas, yeah
If not by Christmas
Then New Year’s night
December 25, 1981
Was it bad for Remus to wish he had Sirius beside him? Not the Sirius in Azkaban, of course. That wasn’t Remus’ Sirius. Remus wanted his own Sirius, the one who stuck by him no matter what, the one who could save him from spiralling and panicking, the one who reminded him day after day that he wasn’t a monster, he was Remus. The wonderful Sirius. Remus’ Sirius.
The Sirius who wasn’t Remus’ Sirius was a traitor. That Sirius had betrayed Remus to Severus Snape, in the Marauders’ fifth year, and at the time, that had seemed like the worst crime humanely possible. And yet that paled in comparison with what Bad Sirius had done now. Remus wanted his Sirius back.
Just for Christmas. Just for Christmas, Remus wanted Sirius by his side. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that his Sirius and not-his Sirius were two different people – if not-his Sirius committed a crime, both Siriuses (Sirii?) had to be punished. But just for Christmas, only Christmas, Remus wanted to be able to snuggle up next to Sirius and forget his worries for a day. One day. If not Christmas – after all, Christmas was almost over, it was dinnertime – then another holiday, like New Year’s, so Remus and Sirius could celebrate together.
One holiday. Just one holiday. With Sirius.
Of course, that could never happen.
Friends and relations
Send salutations
Sure as the stars shine above
But this is Christmas, Christmas, my dear
It’s the time of year to be with the one you love!
December 25, 1981
Owls had flocked to Remus’ apartment on Christmas morning, dropping cards through the unattended windows. Remus hadn’t opened a single one. They would just be bitter reminders of all the people who weren’t sending Remus cards.
There was only one card that Remus did open. While he was moping on his bed, a little brown screech owl fluttered through an open window and basically began scratching Remus’ hand with its talons until he swatted it away, sat up, and grabbed the letter it had dropped. His eyes brightened before he even saw the swooping handwriting on the envelope. There was only one person he knew whose owl would be so determined to make sure Remus read its owner’s card. Mary.
The card was very definitely from Mary. When Remus pulled it from the envelope, a little explosion of glitter left him spluttering and blinking red and green specks from his eyes. “Ugh, Mary,” he grumbled. Some things never changed.
Mary had gotten a Muggle card for Remus. The front of it displayed a red-nosed reindeer and the words, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!” in frilly golden cursive. Warily, Remus opened the card and read the message from his friend.
Dear Remy,
Happy Christmas! Hope you’re having a decent day, and not a.) chain smoking, b.) drinking yourself to insanity, c.) having a Christmas-themed panic attack, or d.) all of the above. Is that what seasonal depression means?
If you are doing any of those things, I don’t really blame you. I would’ve been doing most of them today if it weren’t for Reginald, so…
Oh! I’m living with Reginald Cattermole now. Remember, that kid who used to flirt with/stalk me in fifth and sixth year? Yeah, he got his shit together and is actually a lovely boyfriend now. I have to say, I really expected I’d end up with some hot, brainless jock, but… it seems like Reginald might be the one. He’s pretty average-looking, to be honest, but he’s so smart, and very sweet. Bit of a nerdy-librarian type, really. He’s like… you, but straight. I don’t know what that says about our relationship.
Next thing! I’m truly sorry I haven’t contacted you for the last two months. I just really couldn’t think about anything related to any of them. I miss them so much, you know? And I felt like you would make me think about them. So I just shut you out, and added you to the ‘people I miss’ list while you were right there. I’m really sorry.
Okay, my hand hurts. How about you come over for New Year’s, and we talk more then?
Love you!
– Mary
Remus had to laugh. The whole letter was so Mary – the random jumping between topics, the ruminating about her type, the one-line invitation in the last paragraph, and the complete lack of a way to refuse said invitation. Mary knew Remus much too well.
Well, apparently Remus had his first commitment in months. And that was good – it was great to see Mary – but honestly, Remus didn’t want New Year’s with Mary. No, he didn’t want that at all.
He wanted New Year’s with Sirius.
Somewhere, deep in his mind, Remus knew that he could not die without having one more Christmas and New Year’s with Sirius. Screw Azkaban – screw life imprisonment – screw lycanthropy – Remus Lupin was not dying before he got to celebrate the holidays just once more with the love of his life. He would wait, patiently or impatiently, until that one holiday season with Sirius. His Sirius.
So don’t you tell me that you’ll never more roam
Christmas and New Year’s, they’ll find you home
There’ll be no sorrow, no grief and no pain
And I’ll be happy once again
December 25, 1995
“Hey,” Remus mutters, collapsing into bed.
The first thing he sees is a pair of gleaming black eyes. Then a little mischievious smirk. Then a curtain of black hair draping over Remus’ face. And finally, as Remus closes his eyes, he feels rough lips pressed against his, kissing him, biting him, claiming him –
“Good day, then?” Remus asks, as the kiss ends.
“Oh, yeah, great,” Sirius sighs sarcastically. “Got to stay in my trauma-filled childhood home all day, singing to myself because you all were at the hospital and even the goddamn elf abandoned me. Oh, and I couldn’t kiss you all day because Harry or one of his friends was always watching. At least the food was good.”
Remus laughs. “Yeah, I didn’t have the best Christmas either. I accidentally infuriated a new werewolf at St. Mungo’s. He threatened to bite me, you know.”
“What did you say?” Sirius gasps between spasms of laughter.
“I told him I already have a boyfriend.”
Sirius chokes on his laughter. Remus thumps him on the back.
“That story was the highlight of my day,” Sirius says when he can breathe again.
“Then your day must have really sucked,” Remus notes.
Sirius blinks up at him, seductively. “Want to make it a bit better?”
“You’re incorrigible.” Remus flicks his wand, turning off the lights. “We have two hours till midnight. Come on.”
Later, as he lay in bed, Sirius curled up beside him, Remus realised that he’d never given up on having Sirius with him for the holidays. Not once. He’d always subconsciously known, even in the deepest valleys of depression, that he was going to have one last Christmas and New Year’s with Sirius. His Sirius.