A/N: This is literally nothing but pure, unadulterated, tooth-rooting Christmas fluff. It adds almost nothing to the narrative, but I can't help myself from giving my babies as much happy-time as possible.
"So....I have good news and bad news," Branwen waltzed into the common room and threw herself on the sofa between James and Remus, "Which do you want first?"
"The good," Sirius said, "it will soften the blow."
"No, the bad," Peter leaned over, "so we get it out of the way."
She sighed. "Okay, okay. The bad news is, Stanley's going bald."
"Oh no!" Peter gasped. "Wait, who's Stanley?"
"My Mandrake. We've already had to take eight leaves from him this year. Professor Sprout says he won't be growing any new ones until after the new year. That means we have to wait until at least January before we try the Animagus process again." Branwen's bottom lip stuck out in a pout and she didn't notice the sighs of relief the boys released. None of them were looking forward to having the nasty smelling leaf in their mouths again anytime soon.
"And the good news....?" Remus prompted her.
She brightened instantly. "Oh yes! I checked the charts and there's not going to be a full moon during the Christmas holidays this year. So you'll all be coming home with James and me!"
"Wha-what?" Remus was sputtering. "But I, I need to write my parents. And, and what if –"
"What if nothing," Branwen waved him away. "It's perfect. There's going to be a new moon on Christmas. Everything will be lovely. And we've already written to all your parents."
"Even mine?" Sirius grunted.
"Yep," James grinned and threw an arm around his friend's shoulder. "They couldn't wait to get rid of you."
"Thanks mate....I think."
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The ride back to London on the Hogwarts Express was one of the cheeriest the group had ever experienced. Sirius, especially, was jumping from his seat every few minutes to pace the corridor, far too excited to sit still. Remus and Peter were a little more nervous to be going somewhere other than home for the holiday, but the joy in their compartment was contagious.
James led a rousing rendition of "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs" then Peter taught them the Muggle carol "Jingle Bells." This continued until Hufflepuff prefect Carol Salman came and shushed them. They paused only a few minutes before they picked up "Jingle Bells" again, this time using their wands to fill the compartment with the sound of actual jingling bells.
When they reached Platform 9 ¾, it was obvious from where James and Branwen had inherited their Christmas spirit. Fleamont Potter was waiting for them dressed as Father Christmas and ringing a loud brass bell. Sirius, Remus, and Peter shuffled over with red-tinged cheeks, but James and Branwen ran to their father with open arms.
When they arrived at the Potter house, the boys realised it wasn't just Mr. Potter who was brimming with Christmas enthusiasm. Euphemia had gone all out for "her boys." Tinsel was strung from every nook and cranny, punctuated with boughs of holly and bunches of mistletoe. There was a Christmas tree in every room, including one that was nearly twelve feet tall in the parlour. It was already surrounded by presents wrapped in shining paper and over-sized bows. On the fireplace were five stockings printed with all their names in swirling silver letters.
It was a little overwhelming for Sirius, Remus, and Peter at first, but it didn't take them long to adjust to showers of affection, of which Fleamont and Euphemia had an endless supply. They plied the boys with cocoa and cookies as often as possible. One of their rooms had been enchanted into an ice-skating rink with skates charmed to give the user maximum speed and height on jumps. The gingerbread houses they made were populated with tiny gingerbread men and women who seemed to enjoy their new homes with great enthusiasm.
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Christmas Eve found all five friends sleeping over in James' room. Well, sleeping may not have been the right word. Not only were they on a sugar high from Cassie's latest batch of snickerdoodles, but James' room was a picture of pandemonium. The fairies on his tree kept fluttering around, trading places on their boughs. The miniature Hogwarts Express running around the base that kept emitting steam and whistles every time it pulled into the miniature Platform 9 ¾. Celestina Warbuck was crooning from a corner radio while Branwen and the boys belted the verses in a screeching, off-key tone:
"My baby gave me a hippogriff for Christmas / If you wish for less, you're thinking way too small / He'll be with me till the end / Oh, a hippogriff's the greatest gift of all! / Yes, a hippogriff's the greatest gift of all!"
When the clock struck midnight, they were all still wide awake, so they greeted the holiday with loud cheers and bangs of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks.
Finally, as the early hours of Christmas wore on, they began to nod off, one by one.
When Fleamont and Euphemia checked on their children at nine o'clock that morning, they were still sound asleep. Euphemia smiled at her husband, her weathered face folding into scores of wrinkles. "This is the best Christmas I could have asked for, Flea."
"I know," he kissed the top of her greying head.
"Can't we just, keep them all? There's plenty of room."
Fleamont chuckled. "They have their own parents, you know. Parents who love them and would be rather upset if we stole their beloved offspring."
"Not Sirius." They both sobered, knowing exactly what was waiting for the boy at his house. "If Walburga were to ever...."
"Yes, darling. We would take him in a heartbeat."
They smiled and slipped downstairs to enjoy a quiet Christmas tea together.
It was almost noon before Branwen dragged herself from her warm, cosy sleep. She was about to pounce on her brother with a "Happy Christmas!" scream when she saw a figure in the window seat.
Sirius' profile was highlighted by the frosty sun outside the window. It was the most sombre Branwen had ever seen him. He had a faraway look in his eyes, and as she approached she noticed his jaw was trembling.
"Siri?"
He wiped at his eyes as he turned to her. "Hey. Happy Christmas, Bran."
"Happy Christmas, Sirius." She clambered onto the seat beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. She joined him in gazing out the window, although there was really nothing to see. The streets below were empty of their usual shoppers and business commuters. The only indication of life was the ring of church bells far in the distance.
The two of them continued to sit in silence. Finally, Sirius, his voice barely audible, said, "This is just so....so weird. I've never been in a house with so many happy people. No one's yelled or screamed the whole time I've been here; no one's raised a hand to anyone else."
Branwen reached out and took his hand. "That's the way it's supposed to be. I'm sorry you haven't had that."
He turned to face her. Tears were slowly rolling down his cheeks. "I just hate that Regulus is still back there. He doesn't know any better, really. Mum just keeps poisoning his mind with all that, that hate. And I know he and I have our differences, but....he's still my brother, you know?"
"You got away. You broke years of tradition when you got sorted into Gryffindor," Branwen gently reminded him. "He's strong like you. Maybe he'll learn to break away too."
Sirius squeezed her hand. "I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you and James for everything. And your parents. Merlin knows how you got so lucky to have them," he chuckled. "Merlin knows how I got so lucky to be friends with ruddy gits like you. Oh, and," he poked her nose, "if you ever bring up this sappy conversation to the boys, I'll deny everything."
She smiled and mimed zipping her mouth shut.
In a few moments, they heard Peter stir and Branwen took that as her cue to bounce among them, waking them with loud Christmas greetings.
Once the boys were awake, James and Branwen informed them of the Potter tradition of staying their pyjamas all day – yet another thing Sirius had never experienced. And what was more, there were brand new pyjama sets for all of them. Soft silks and cottons, they were made of the high quality materials that could have been found in the Black household, but the patterns were definitely from the Potters.
James' outfit was dotted with tiny racing brooms interspersed with his Quidditch number "3." Sirius' was similarly decorated with small Bludgers and bats and his number "5." Remus sported red and gold checks with wands and (he chuckled) crescent moons. Peter's were blue with tiny fireworks and roaring lion heads. Branwen had picked out a red pair with golden Snitches all over.
Once dressed in their official Christmas attire, they trooped downstairs. It hadn't seemed possible, but even more sparkling packages had appeared overnight. Fleamont and Euphemia emerged from the kitchen with cheery greetings and mugs of cocoa and warm biscuits. Then the real show began.
James and Branwen dove in. It wasn't that they were greedy; they just knew that these gifts were expressions of their parents love and they wanted to appreciate them as much as possible.
James' first gift was a Nimbus 1001, the same model Branwen had received for her second year try-outs, a model newer than his Nimbus 1000. It came with an updated broom-care kit, the latest edition of "Quidditch Through the Ages," and a sketch board designed to plot out strategies with moving figures that would show how potential plays would work out.
Branwen unwrapped the finest quill and parchment set Flourish & Blotts could offer. She had new Seeker goggles that were enchanted to stay clear through rain and wind. There was a set of books on medicinal Herbology and a life-sized poster of Evie Aimes, the Seeker who replaced retired Ginger Larkin of the Holyhead Harpies.
Sirius, Remus, and Peter hung back. They didn't quite know how to react to gifts as extravagant as the Potters gave. With Fleamont's encouragement, though, they began to dig in.
Sirius received new dragon-hide gloves for Quidditch and a large Gryffindor pennant for his room (James' choice, as he thought it would annoy Walburga the most). For Remus there was a set of handsomely-bound books containing the complete works of a Muggle author called Edgar Allan Poe. There was also a thick new overcoat and a pair of sturdy boots that fit like a glove, which incidently, he also received a pair of. For Peter, who loved games of any kind, there was an exquisite set of Gobstones which released flowery perfumes instead of the usual hideous odours, as well as a Self-Shuffling set of Exploding Snap cards.
Sirius had gifts for his friends as well. Though he complained of a dwindling allowance, he still managed to scrape up enough for a wristwatch for James (guaranteed to resist any Quidditch weather condition), a glittering locket for Branwen, a personalised quill set for Remus, and a wizard chess set for Peter.
When these had been opened, a contented chatter filled the room. James and Sirius admired the new Nimbus 1001 in the gleaming firelight, while Peter squinted at each Gobstone, examining their minutely intricate designs. Branwen was holding her locket, considering which photos to put in it, when she spotted a small cache of presents tucked behind Remus. "Wait, we forgot some!" she cried.
"No, no," Remus held his arms out, trying to block the view of the gifts, "these are just, just extras. They're nothing."
Euphemia walked over and read the labels. "Remus, darling, these are from your parents. Would you like me to pass them around?"
His face was beet red and his gaze was fixed on the floor. "No," he repeated, "they're nothing."
"Remus," Euphemia placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure they're lovely."
She picked them up and passed them among the friends. James ripped into his first. "Woah! Look!" It was a small gold-plated tie pin engraved with the initials J.F.P.
Peter received a supple leather bag for his new Gobstones. It too had his name on it, stitched by hand by Hope Lupin.
Sirius and Branwen were a little more confused about their gifts. Sirius unwrapped a pair of large wire-rimmed glasses that were tinted black. "Um....thanks, mate. But you know I don't wear glasses. Even if I did I'm not sure what help these would be." He squinted through the dark lenses.
Remus chuckled. "They're not for seeing. I mean, not like James'. They're called sunglasses. Muggles wear them to help keep the sun out of their eyes."
"Holy Merlin!" Sirius had run to one of the mirrors in the hall and was inspecting his reflection. "I look incredible in these! Remus, you're a fashion genius!"
Remus blushed. "Well, my mum and dad picked them out."
Branwen held up her gift as well. It looked like a large red and gold, crocheted square with a hole directly in the middle. "Um, Rem....?"
He laughed again. "That's called a poncho. Mum says they're all the rage with the Muggle girls right now. Here, stand up." He grabbed her hand to pull her up then settled the garment over her head.
Branwen ran and joined Sirius, who was still preening in front of the mirror. "Wow! It's so pretty!"
"Thanks," Remus blushed again. "Mum made it."
Branwen left Sirius and ran back to throw her arms around Remus' waist. "Thank you so much."
Remus' blush deepened and he awkwardly patted her back. They pulled apart when Fleamont cleared his throat. "We have one final gift for all of you. Euphemia and I have booked a six week tour of America for the summer holiday and you're all invited."
Remus' eyes widened. Six weeks easily covered at least one full moon. He could never be away from home (or Hogwarts) for so long. "Um, that's very generous of you, Mr. Potter, but I....I...."
James, realising the problem, jumped in. "Didn't you tell me that you wanted to spend time with your parents this summer? That you have plans with your Dad or something?"
"Yeah, yeah, they said they've been missing me and....yeah." He didn't quite know how to end his sentence.
"Well, we're sorry to hear that dear, but I can understand a parent wanting to spend time with their child," Euphemia said sympathetically. "What about the rest of you?"
Sirius' shoulders slumped. "I think we all know what my my mother will say."
Peter glanced around. "Um, I'll have to ask my parents."
Fleamont and Euphemia deflated just a bit, but everyone perked up when Cassie entered and announced that Christmas dinner was ready. They broke open their Christmas crackers and ate with gusto, savouring every bite and every moment.