Give Love On Christmas Day
Oh, every little child on Santa’s knee
Has room for your love underneath his tree
Give love on Christmas Day
No greater gift is there than love
24th December 1975
Potter Manor did not do Yule in half measure.
There was always a log in the foyer hearth; softly crinkling heat into the home. Garlands of berries and clementines strung across each doorway and mistletoe trickling from the centre of the doorframes.
There were gold paper streamers and trees in every room. Some decorated entirely with popcorn strings and candy canes, others with little ribbons and frozen chocolate frogs.
It had always been that way.
The Potters simply loved Yule. Loved the brightness, the gifts they could give to their loves, and the joy it brought their children.
Once James had been born, there was no alternative. They simply had to keep it up.
Each year, he’d descend the stairs with wide eyes that simply glittered. A bright smile that nearly took his ears off; so wide and filled with merriment. Then he’d brought Dorea some children in need just as she had been. And she showed them a Potter Christmas. That same wide eyed and radiant happiness.
Regrettably, however, there were no children to be found revelling in the festivity.
Instead, they were scrunched under warming charms, hidden with a smoke dispersion charm behind the back of the house.
“Does anyone have a spare fag?” Dorea sighed, startling the group of teens as they promptly tired to hide their cigarettes.
This year, James had brought back the entire legion of goons.
The twins were sat on a little blanket from Regulus’s room; both sheepishly smiling her way. Now that Sirius’s (rather poor) dye job had grown out a little, the faded red looked almost elegant against his cheekbones. Ara’s own locks were still a vibrant shade, though this time far more purple due to a different dye. Matching large coats and greyed jeans, glittery faces and gold-lined eyes.
Remus was knelt on the grass beside Ara looking rather awkward - patches soaking into his knees from the remnants of rain the night before. Orbiting the oblivious girl, as she seemed to mimic James’s mime and stubbed her cigarettes. At least he wasn’t partaking with the other three. If he had, she would have been obliged to inform Effie.
Her nephew truly glowed at Christmas time. It seemed it had begun to be noticed.
“I’m not a fool - I am aware that teenagers all smoke. I don’t intend to inform your mother, James, provided nobody tells Charlus that you supplied me.” She raised a stern brow. “And, well, I’ve had a truly rotten morning.”
“Here.” Ara sighed, pulling her pack from her coat pocket and tossing it towards her. “Do you wanna use my muggle lighter?” She offered with a waggle of her eyebrows.
“Oh, go on then.” Dorea chuckled, accepting the gold lighter and flicking the top open as she stumbled to kneel on the blanket. As she sparked it alive, she let out an excited gasp at the muggle invention. Truly a magic of its own kind.
She expertly blew a ring as she exhaled her long drag, sighing happily as she nodded to Ara and handed back the lighter. In a show of her own prowess, the young witch snapped her fingers and sparked the cigarette with a jovial puff.
“I daren’t ask how many cigarettes it’s taken you to become proficient in that skill.” The elder witch remarked with a pointed look - her severity betrayed by her clear amusement. It twinkled against dark eyes.
“Enough.” Ara replied with a mysterious shrug, taking a puff and turning to the others with a motion for them to continue smoking as well. James fumbled with his own muggle device - snapping a clean silver lighter undone. It took a few attempts before he made ignition, but he seemed spurred on by Ara’s encouraging nods as he offered it to Sirius with a flourish that snuffed the flame. Laughing the girl snapped her fingers to light her brother’s cigarette, eyes locked on James’s with great warm and amusement.
She’d have to watch this development, Dorea realised.
Finally, Ara Black had realised her feelings for James Potter. Now she was a little more free, a little more hopeful. Without the shackle to her wrist… well, Ara finally seemed brighter. Like the star from which she took her name.
Still, it was almost pitiful, the way one would glance away, just before the other looked their way. Always slightly out of sync, always red-cheeked behind dark skin and painted paleness; all starry eyed and softly smiling.
She gave it a year before James finally worked up the courage to do anything about it.
Though that rather reminded her of her dreary morning.
“Oh, Sirius!” Dorea tilted to face the boy. “I spoke to Miss Delphine’s mother, explained the situation and she’s written your mother to say that she will be betrothing the girl to Mr Zabini.”
“How old is he?”
“Same age as you, my dear.”
“Really?” He guffawed, spluttering smoke. “She made him sound older.”
“I believe he is in his sixth year at Beauxbatons.” Dorea spoke. “At least, that’s what his mother told me. Such a lovely woman.”
“Are you in contact with everyone’s mum?” Sirius stared.
“The women of the Wizarding world don’t just sit around and drink tea. I know about everything.”
“You can’t.”
“Not even that you sent your cousin a camera to send you pictures of your goddaughter.” She raised a slender brow. “I know everything, dear. That was why this morning’s catch-up amongst ladies was so dreadful. Some Ministry brat named Umbridge is trying to buy her way into our circle. And we keep telling her that we don’t exclude half-bloods, merely untalented witches.” Dorea huffed, taking another long drag of her cigarette.
“She sounds rotten.” James offered, consolingly.
“Just terribly immature.” The elder witch replied as she exhaled smoke. “If she gets herself in the right Ministry pocket, I dread to think what such narrow-minded thinking could lead to.”
The twins shot her an identical raised brow. Sharp and pointed. Her shrugging reply sealed that portion of the conversation.
“Remus, darling, how are you finding the holidays?” Dorea spun to the scarred boy by the younger witch; his eyes wide and awkward as he exhaled smoke roughly.
“It’s nice.” He nodded politely.
“Any particular treats to your taste? I’m certain Effie asked, but you ought to go back with some nice things.”
He merely stared at her blankly, blinking once before his brow furrowed.
“He likes chocolate.” Ara replied for him, nudging his shoulder slightly to break the poor boy from his freezing. With flushed cheeks, he nodded.
“Wonderful.” Dorea smiled warmly. “I presume we’ll be shipping you back with a trunk full of treacle and jam tarts.” She pointedly looked at the twins, with that so very familiar Black stare. The look of a matriarch.
“Ara’s got a boyfriend.” Sirius rather suddenly blurted, too caught in Dora’s probing stare to remember what it had been about.
And really, it was a bloody difficult secret to keep.
“You what?” Dorea gasped, turning to Ara with a grave frown.
“Sirius hasn’t attended Astronomy all term!” Ara pointed to her brother with panic, silently cussing him out.
“Well, Remus keeps stealing your fags!”
“Moony!” Ara gasped, spinning to pin him with a severe look.
“You smoke too much!” He raised his hands in defence. “Besides, James keeps stealing Sirius’s stash of beers.”
“Traitor!” The Potter heir gasped, hand over his heart.
“This is a lot to digest.” Dorea huffed, pressing a hand to her temples. “I won’t mention the beers to your parents, James, provided no one tells Charlus I snuck a fag.”
“Our lips are sealed.” The twins replied.
“A boyfriend, Ara?” Dorea turned to the girl with a straight face, save for the twitch of her lips.
“It’s not serious or anything.” She shrugged awkwardly. “Just this Ravenclaw in the year above.”
“Mr Brown or Mr Clearwater? I hope not the former, as that would be a rather unfortunate surname shift.”
“How do you… Clearwater.” She coughed. “He’s… he’s nice.” Ara spoke lamely, wringing her hands.
“Hm.” The elder witch replied, face void of any opinion as she regarded the young witch, the boy she orbited, and they that orbited her.
She suspected the girl’s love life might be a little hopeless for the year. She was the age for it, those silly choices of youth.
“Dorea!” They heard Charlus call from inside the house.
“Drat!” The witch in question hissed, stubbing out her cigarette and vanishing it with a pop of wandless magic. “We’ll be discussing this later.” She glanced at Ara with heavy meaning; the younger witch gulping as Dorea cast about a dozen charms to remove the scent from all of them.
With a nod their way, she promptly disappeared towards the Manor.
“Blimey your aunt can be terrifying.” Ara breathed.
“Don’t I know it.” James laughed.
——
31st December 1975
Bunking off some elaborate Ministry ball that the Potter adults were forced by decorum to attend, the teens sequestered in a clearing of the Potter orchards. Sat upon logs placed in a half-circle - facing a small bonfire. Charmed secretly by Fleamont and Charlus to not grow beyond its bounds, fearful of drunken teenage antics and potential loss of their beautiful trees.
It flickered in shades of pink and lilac; spelled by powders James had thrown in with a wink.
“So where exactly did your brother sneak off to?” James Potter was wrapped in a large and thick jacket; hands secured by mittens his mother had fastened - spelled with a permanent warming charm. A bottle of beer rested in his open hand, leant against his knee as he perched upon the log. Face lit a deep burgundy by the flames; bright against his light eyes.
“Reg snuck off to steal drinks at Henry’s family do.” Ara laughed, the pink of the fire a steady glow across her painted features. It made her hair more magenta than purple, that evening. Darkening the black that lined her eyes, the deep pink to her cheeks and lips. A rosy hue across her borrowed coat and scarf; both crimson with gold stitching. Old winter wear from the back of James’s closet, since it wasn’t safe for the twins to go out shopping. Not as their mother squawked injustice over Howlers to both the Manor and the Ministry.
Not as a looming Dark force seemed to creep the bounds of their wards, as though waiting for the siblings to get too close to the borders.
His parents tried to deny it, but James could swear he felt it. He felt it watching them.
Watching Ara.
“Why didn’t you sneak off for a midnight snog?” Sirius motioned puckered lips, encroaching on his sister until she shoved him back with a hearty laugh. He wore one of James’s current coats; a neat charcoal peacoat charmed to be warm against the weather. Matched with a scarf stolen from Monty, judging by it’s intense plum shade.
“He’s with family on the continent.” She shrugged, taking a swig of her wine as she pulled messed waves from her face. The damp of winter had puffed up her curls anew, and the witch was very disappointed. “We both figured, considering some of his relatives, it might be safer for the pair of us if I didn’t meet the family so soon.”
“Are they a bad lot?” James frowned.
“Just very traditional.” She replied lamely. “It’d be more hassle than it’s worth. And it’s not like I can really return the favour.”
“You could bring him here.” James declared, as though it were the most obvious solution.
“To meet your parents? And your aunt and uncle?” She laughed rather bitterly, the noise like a wince against their ears. “I’m not bringing a boy over to meet your family, Jamie. I love them, but they aren’t mine.”
“Ara.” Sirius hissed from beside her, a reproachful glance that seemed almost too knowing.
After all, hadn’t he thought the same once too? At least he’d grown a little out of it. Out of the heavy fear. That silent terror that these people promising home would one day take it away. And as much as Ara Hermione Black loved the Potters, she did not think herself fool enough to believe they would truly keep her around.
That they could save her from the life she had signed up for as a child. The life thrust upon her, that only now was her brother beginning to understand.
Hell, he hadn’t breathed properly until Dorea had sworn that she’d written Delphine’s mother.
At least Elara had only been in the year above.
It took a subtle nudge from James for Sirius to blink back to the present. To remember that his sister was there, and he still had time.
They watched as she took a hearty swig from her bottle and shot the pair a mirthless smile, inching closer to Remus on the log. The boy had been oddly quiet that evening, clearly caught by the struggle of his first Christmas away from home, the second without his mother.
His coat was threadbare and too small in the sleeves; scarf torn on the end and fraying slowly.
James would have to see if he could convince his friend to let him take him shopping. If he spun it as for the twins, Remus might be more willing to accept a couple things as they chose for the others.
“Shall we play a game?” Ara queried with a wicked grin, eyes darting between the boys. “Truth or dare?” Ara suggested with a waggle of her brows. “I figure the pair of us deserve some retribution.” She knocked Remus’s shoulder with a smile.
“Oh, alright.” Sirius laughed, if a little awkwardly.
“Have you lost your virginity?” She asked with utter amusement, eyes glinting with utter deviousness.
“Not yet.” Sirius grit out, taking a long drink from his wine bottle. “I hate you.”
“And yet, I’m half your soul.” She merely grinned wider. “The better half, arguably.” She pulled her pack of cigarettes from her pocket, offering it across the group. Remus and Sirius accepted with nods of appreciation, wands held to light the ends.
“Why don’t you smoke?” Remus suddenly asked James; head titled curiously as he took a drag of his cigarette.
“Mum would kill me.” James laughed, raising his beer and taking a sip. “Speaking of, you’ve upset her by not eating so much of her bread this Yule.” He nudged Sirius with a smile. “She’s worried that her baking isn’t up to standard.”
“It’s lovely, I just… now I know I can have it whenever, I can space it out better. You know?” His face was open in a way almost heartbreaking; so very soft and raw in hopeful emotion. And James got it. At least, he really wished he’d got it right. That his best mate was saying he no longer feared he’d never come home to the Manor. That, well, Potter Manor was his home.
“Question for you, Sirius,” Remus blurted from the opposite side of Ara, “I’ve noticed that you only come to meals if someone brings you along. You do remember to eat, right?” He laughed, frankly nervously.
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “I mean, without James, I’d probably have died in first year.” Sirius admitted with complete seriousness.
“It’s true.” James nodded. “He always forgets to eat. I pretty much make sure he shows up for every meal. Ara too, to be honest.” The aforementioned girl flipped the bird at him from the opposite end of the half-circle.
“But what would you do Sirius, if James wasn’t there to remind you?” Remus prodded, jaw slack and eyes bugging.
“Why wouldn’t he be there?” Sirius gasped in great dramatics, hair bouncing as he spun to clutch James’s arm; a little of his drink spilling in the motion.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be there?”
“What if he’s on holiday and you’re elsewhere?” Remus pressed, shaking his head slightly with utter disbelief.
“If I’m going on holiday, he’s coming with me.” James frowned. “Along with Reg and Ara.”
“Aw cheers, Jamie.” Ara tipped her bottle his way with a wink, the boy losing his train of thought at the action.
“Okay, but just imagine if he were elsewhere and you were still at Potter Manor. Maybe he went away with just Effie and Monty for some potion event.” Remus tried to continue.
“Dad would take Reg and Ara to that. They’re way better at potions than me.” James’s brow creased, still utterly confused.
“Just imagine it.” Remus snapped. “What would you do then?”
“Probably starve.” The twins shrugged together.
“Ara, come on, you’ve gotta be on my team here.” Remus whined.
“Sorry, Moony.” She looked up at him sheepishly. “At Hogwarts, Lily makes sure I eat. And over the holidays Reg and James are always on at me about it. I don’t really need as much to eat as the rest of you.” She brushed him off.
“Bullshite.” Remus shook his head, cigarette utterly forgotten in his hand.
“Nah, it’s true.” Sirius piped in with a bark of a laugh. “She’s always eaten half of what I do. Wally built it in. Besides, Reg and I don’t need a lot to eat in a day either. I recon Blacks have a slow metabolism or something.”
“Fucking hell.” Remus breathed, hand running through his shaggy hair. He looked to James in warning, the other boy sobering slightly as he caught the problem he’d been enabling. “When I’m not drunk, we’re having a serious conversation about all this.”
“Okay?” Ara replied with bewilderment. The twins exchanged a glance; totally unaware of the underlying problem to both their lives. “Shall we move onto dares?”
After managing to get her twin to take a dip in the pond fully-clothed, James to attempt flying backwards (resulting in a rather humorous boy shaped gap in a tree by the flower gardens), and the pair to make hot chocolate spiked with whiskey, Ara and her boys found themselves in the Potter kitchens. James’s house elf Poppet whirling around their feet as they sat on the counter tops. Watching her preparing treats for the next day, sneaking batter and chocolate chips under her tutting watch.
“Happy New Year, guys.” Their mugs clinked as the clock chimed, smiles across their faces. “I’m glad you all came home with me.” James grinned that classic lopsided grin as he looked to his friends.
“We’re glad you keep inviting us.” The twins yawned together, sleepy smiles as they sipped at spiked hot chocolate.
“I appreciate you letting me come.” Remus nodded shyly.
“Of course, mate.” James mimicked the gesture. “You’re always welcome. Shame Pete was busy.”
“Busy being secretive.” Sirius grumbled. “He keeps swiping the cloak and map and buggering off.”
“He’s had a hard time, mate.” Remus clapped him on the back - hand lingering a moment, hot at the flame before them. “Give him a bit to sneak off in private. He told me he’s just using the passage down to Hogsmeade and using the cloak to walk around.”
“And you believe him?” The twins asked together; Sirius’s voice a scoff of distrust, Ara’s one of gentle confirmation.
“I do.”
There was a comfortable silence after that. Just the ticking of the clock and Poppet’s whirlwind gestures in the first minutes of the new year. And odd hope in the depth of night. If they could start the year with their best friends, in a house filled with love and merriment… well, maybe they could end that year the same way.
“Can someone wake me up before noon tomorrow?” Ara asked as she pulled her navy jumper tighter around her body. One of Tucker’s, James realised, seeing the eagle crest upon the sleeve. “Thought I’d ask, just in case I sleep in too long. I promised Reggie that I’d go with him to buy new school robes.”
“I told him he’d need to!” James whooped, smug about something the others were not privy to.
Upon hearing Ara’s giggle, his hazel eyes twisted her direction - hooded and sleepy but filled with warmth and life. And he watched as she looked his way, eyes widening ever so slightly before she turned back to watch Poppet with a smile.
Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the alcohol he thought. She always blushed more when she drank. A wine stain upon her cheeks against the pale of her skin.
And she looked lovely.
His lips twitched upwards, his mug pressed against them as he closed his eyes and took a swig of hot liquid.
As he opened them, he found her gravestone gaze upon him again.
And he smiled.