The Christmas Sitcom
by Morgan D.

"I have bad news for you, Prongs."

"No, you don't. Not today. Any bad news you have must wait until Boxing Day."

"You might want to hear this one soon. Better crush your hopes now, before they get too high."

James looked up from the plate where he had been slicing boiled potatoes. "That's so very sweet of you, Wormtail."

"Tell him, Peter, whatever it is," Lily smirked. "James has to be crushed from time to time. It keeps his head within acceptable dimensions."

Peter stared into James' eyes, sighing sombrely before making his terrifying statement. "I'm really sorry, Prongs. But it's clear to me that your son will never be a Seeker."

"Now that's a stunningly rude thing to say!" James exclaimed in an outraged tone, at the same time Lily raised her hands and murmured, "Thank Heavens!"

"Well, I've been trying to get him to grasp this cracker for half an hour already," said Peter, showing the brightly coloured paper tube he had been waving above the baby's bassinet.

"You've been sitting there for no longer than five minutes!" James protested. "And you're holding it out of his reach. He doesn't have a broom yet, you know."

"He doesn't?" Peter laughed. "I was so sure you'd try to give him one for his first Christmas."

"Oh, he tried," Lily assured him. "So did Sirius. I found the two suspicious packages lying by Harry's crib this morning. I'll have them returned to the shops where they came from by Monday."

"Evil woman," James mumbled. "Hindering the education of our dear son."

Lily finished scraping the carrots and lay them on the bare table. "Just trying to keep him from breaking his neck before he learns to sit up on his own. And you're slicing those too small. We're having roasted potatoes, not mashed ones."

"Don't you know the saying, darling? If you want something done the right way, do it yourself." Smirking, James offered her the knife.

"If I were to do that, I'd have to do everything myself here."

"You're breaking my heart, love."

Lily slapped her husband's head playfully, before leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Hurry up, will you? We're behind schedule already."

"So what? Two of our honourable guests have yet to show their ugly faces anyway."

Peter glanced at his watch with some preoccupation. "You don't think anything happened, do you? Remus is never late."

"Not unless Sirius is with him," Lily snorted.

"He's been staying in Sirius' apartment since the full moon," James explained. "They're coming together so Remus won't have to Apparate."

"Is he okay?" asked Peter. "Some of those scratches were really nasty."

"He should be fine," James grinned. "Yesterday I got a long letter from him detailing several stratagems to murder fussing, overzealous, canine nurses. He certainly hasn't lost the talent for devious scheming."

"I was afraid Padfoot would have a heart attack when Moony got caught in the fence."

"Maybe it was too soon for Sirius to go marauding again," Lily suggested, sitting beside her husband and making slow, meticulous work of greasing a rectangular casserole dish with butter. "Maybe he needed more time for himself, you know."

"But he was so upset about missing the full moon last month!" James reminded her. "He kept apologising for days, as if he had let us down or something like that. Besides, Sirius gets really miserable when we keep him out of things."

"Speaking for myself, I was glad he was there," Peter admitted. "I doubt Prongs and I would have been able to free Moony from that fence without his help." He returned his attention to the baby, who was scowling at the cracker. Harry waved his chubby arms, Peter waved the colourful tube, and both of them were getting really frustrated.

Finally, Lily took pity on them. "Try holding the cracker still, right in front of him. He doesn't have enough co-ordination to grasp a moving object yet."

Resting his elbows on the edge of the bassinet, the mousy-haired man did as he was told.

Harry's emerald eyes were locked on target, glinting with purpose. His little hand reached up, moving somewhere to his right, then somewhere to his left. And paused. Thin eyebrows wrinkled. The hand moved again, slower now, more cautious, upward, slightly to the right. And stopped again. Lips twitched, curving the tiny mouth in a displeased pout. The next move was so slow and hesitant that Peter feared he would doze off in the middle of it. But just as it seemed that the baby would completely miss it, he whipped his arm to the left and grasped the end of the tube with four of his fingers — he hadn't learned how to use his thumbs yet.

"Definitely not a Seeker," Peter stated with firm conviction. "Probably not a Chaser or a Keeper either."

"Don't say it, Wormtail," James snarled.

"You've gotta face the facts, Prongs."

"I can't believe you're siding with Padfoot on this!"

"I'm not," Peter shrugged. "It's just the undeniable truth before our eyes. Harry can't catch. And there's only one position for players that can't catch."

"Don't tease the dragon, Peter," Lily cautioned him. "Aside from the broomstick, Sirius also gave Harry a Beater bat-shaped rattle. I had to hex James so he wouldn't throw the toy out the window."

"Sirius did that just to spite me," James muttered, violently punishing a potato for his friend's unacceptable behaviour.

"I take Harry loved that rattle?" asked Peter.

James didn't bother to answer.

The roar of an engine thundered over the house, causing the windowpanes and roof tiles to vibrate and Harry to emit a joyous laugh.

"Wow," Peter murmured. "You think he recognised the sound?"

Lily gazed at her son with a funny expression that was partly pride and partly aggravation. "Absolutely. He's been very well conditioned. He knows this sounds means me going into hysterics as I try to protect him from his godfather's antics. I'm sure I look very funny when I go into hysterics."

"You look hysterical, of course," said James, deadpan. "I'll get the door."

"With jokes like that, you may very well stay outside," she called after him.

James reached the front yard just in time to see the huge motorbike land elegantly on the stone dust path that led to the door. None of the figures sitting astride it were wearing helmets, and the one on the back had his arms coiled desperately around the driver's waist. A familiar sight, which James welcomed with a broad smile.

However, when the bike halted beside him and the two people dismounted, he came to realise there was something definitely unfamiliar about that picture. One of the faces beaming at him was slightly unexpected, framed by shoulder-length white hair and a long white beard, both considerably dishevelled by the wind and contrasting sharply with the black, three inch-long sword-shaped earring that dangled from his left ear.

Startled, James failed to react when the owner of those alien looks wrapped him in a bear hug and murmured a heartfelt, unusually emotional, "Happy Christmas, Jamie."

"Er... how are you, Headmaster? I wasn't expecting you."

"Don't be an ass," snorted the motorcyclist, parting the hug. "Dumbledore was never this good-looking. Not in this century, anyway."

"What the hell happened to you?" James chuckled, tugging at the long beard. "Who hexed you with this?"

"My, my, you are an ass. Tell him, Moony."

Remus cleaned his throat, suppressing a grin. "I believe, Mr Prongs, that this is Mr Padfoot's attempt to introduce your poor, defenceless son to the myth of Father Christmas."

"And traumatise him for life?"

"You used to believe in Father Christmas," Sirius pointed out to his best friend. "It might have made you look gullible at the time, but it didn't really traumatise you, did it?"

"No, but then I had always pictured Father Christmas as a kind, old man, not as a... a..." James examined Sirius from head to toe, trying to think of adequate adjectives.

"A vicious, immature mutt?" Remus offered, shoving his hands in his pockets to protect them from the chilly breeze.

"I trust you did try to stop him, Moony?"

"As a matter a fact, I didn't. My days as Prefect Lupin are long gone, James, and I was never good at keeping you two at bay anyway. So if Sirius wants to make a fool of himself, that's not my problem. From now on, I'm washing my hands from whatever explosive consequences that may fall upon his head as a result of his stupidity."

"Hear, hear. Is this your New Year's Resolution?"

"It was my New Year's Resolution in 1978. But this time I am going to implement it."

"Sure you will, Moony," said Sirius, winking at James.

"Couldn't you have waited until January to start implementing it?" James sighed. "You know Sirius gets positively obnoxious at this time of the year..."

"Well, forgive me for trying to bring some joy to your dull married life," Sirius grunted.

"There's nothing dull about my married life."

"Because you have me to rescue you when things get bleak! And now I'm gonna rescue my godson from the dull Christmas you and Lily must have planned for him."

"You'll have to hand it to him, James. When he steps inside and Lily sees him with this furry, bleached, hollow head of his..." Remus petted Sirius' hair affectionately. "...whatever happens, it won't be dull."

"You'd better show some respect for my white hair," Sirius chided him, pushing Remus' hand away, but not before squeezing it fondly for a brief second. "Just because you've already opened your presents, it doesn't mean Father Christmas won't punish you for being a bad boy."

James rolled his eyes. "You don't even look like Father Christmas!"

"How would you know? When was the last time you saw him?"

"Since when does Father Christmas wear a green biker jacket, graphorn-hide boots and an onyx earring?"

"This is charm-sculpted obsidian. And even Father Christmas should be allowed to get a break from that silly red outfit every now and then. Now, where's Harry?"

Sirius started marching to the door, but James held him by the arm. "You're gonna frighten him. He won't recognise you and he'll start crying."

"Of course he'll recognise me. The puppy knows my scent."

The young father took a long, deep breath. "Firstly, don't call him 'puppy'. Secondly, he's not a puppy and can't recognise scents. Thirdly, he's..."

"...a baby. And babies have a keen sense of smell and start recognising people's scents when they're about three months old."

James found himself gaping at his best friend. "What...? How...? Where...?"

"Books, Jamie. Where else?"

"You've been reading baby books?!"

"How else would I learn to take care of my godson? From novices like you and Lily?"

Suspicious, James turned his attention to the werewolf. "Did you give baby books to Sirius?"

"Me?! No way. Not giving Sirius any books was my New Year's Resolution in 1974, and that one has been easy to keep."

"Why?" Sirius frowned. "I've read every single book you gave me."

"Yes, and then you'd put the knowledge to use, which would inevitably lead me to regret the gift immensely."

"Oh, enough of you two!" Sirius snapped, pulling his arm away from James' grasp. "Stay out here in the cold complaining about my charming personality if you will. Where's Harry?"

"Er... in the kitchen..."

"Excellent!"

"...with Lily."

"She wouldn't dare hex Father Christmas." With that, Sirius disappeared inside the house.

"Don't count on it!" James shouted after him. He shook his head then, murmuring to himself, "If Harry cries when he sees him, Lily will curse him into the twenty-first century."

"You know Harry won't cry," said Remus with a sympathetic grin. "That's what's bothering you, isn't it?"

"It doesn't bother me. Why would it bother me? Just because my son will probably learn to say 'Padfoot' before he learns to say 'Daddy' is not enough reason to feel bothered."

"Sure, Prongs, whatever you say."

James smiled fondly in the direction of the house. "He seems much better now. Despite the beard."

"Yeah, he really does," Remus agreed. "We had dinner with the Tonkses last night, and at some point Andie pulled him aside for a private talk. I don't know what she's told him, but he's been acting a lot calmer after that."

"That's a relief. I mean, it's been over a month. I thought I'd have to club his head to get him back to normal."

"It's never easy to lose a brother. How would you have felt if something had happened to Sirius?"

"Don't say something like that!" James shuddered. "Nothing's gonna happen to him. Nothing can bring him down. He's immortal."

At that, Remus had to smile. "He is, isn't he? As my father used to say, les pots fêlés sont ceux qui durent le plus."

"Which means...?"

"The cracked pots are those that live the longest."

"Ah." James chuckled. "That goes for crackpots too?"

"I hope so."

"What about you, Moony? How are you feeling?"

"I feel like hexing the next git that tries to fuss over me," Remus growled, his eyes sparking menacingly.

James stepped back, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "Easy, easy, it was just a polite question. Making conversation, that's all."

"I think I know you better than that, James."

"Come on, you can't be angry at your friends for being a little worried..."

"No, but I can be furious if they start fretting like mother hens when they can see perfectly well that I'm fine."

"I'm not fretting!"

"Good."

"I think it's understandable if Sirius freaked out a little bit. Seeing you getting hurt when he's still beating himself up because of what happened to Regulus... But as soon as I saw you were okay, I was okay."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"It was just an unfortunate accident, after all."

"Exactly."

"I only guided us to that area because I thought it would be safer."

"I know."

"With Padfoot a bit... distracted, I thought we should avoid the marsh and that wood near the road..."

"You did well."

"I had completely forgot about that barbed wire fence."

"That's okay."

"Why would anyone put a fence there anyway? It's the middle of nowhere!"

"I think..."

"And barbed wire? All loose and torn like that? Someone could get seriously hurt!"

"James..."

"What am I saying? You were hurt!"

"James?" Remus held his friend by the shoulders to get his attention. "It's okay. I'm not blaming you."

"You're not?"

"No."

"But you should be."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You can be even worse than Sirius sometimes, you know that?"

"Just because I've got you seriously injured is no reason to insult me so wantonly," James scowled.

The werewolf shook his head and pulled the other into a hug, laughing out loud. "Merry Christmas, Prongs."

Sirius stood at the kitchen's entrance, appreciating the reactions.

Peter was fighting to restrain a fit of giggles, by stuffing his mouth with a mince pie. That only caused him to choke, of course.

Unfortunately, lying on the bassinet as he was, Harry couldn't see him yet.

Lily, on the other hand, was staring fixedly at him, her face totally unreadable. She took about a minute to find her voice. "You look good, Sirius."

Sirius blinked, caught unprepared for such politeness. "Er. Thanks."

"Intonsus Potion? With an Albesco Charm?"

"How did you guess?"

"I didn't. Remus owled me."

Sirius snorted. "So much for his 1978 New Year's Resolution."

"I've made the antidote for the potion," she grinned. "It's up in my bedroom, and I need to add the jaborandi leaves before you drink it. That gives you three minutes to amuse yourself exposing your ridiculous figure to my son, while I go fetch it."

"Can't you take a bit longer climbing the stairs and give me four or five...?"

"Don't push your luck, Black. Or I'll just Accio the stuff."

As she left the kitchen, Sirius didn't waste a second. He went straight to the bassinet and leaned over his giggling godson. "Ho! Ho! Ho! What have we here?"

The long white beard fell like a blanket over the baby, who grasped it immediately in sheer fascination.

"It's a puppy! It's the cutest puppy I've ever seen! How are you, little puppy? Do you like Father Christmas' beard?"

Apparently, Harry liked it a lot.

"Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch, don't pull, Harry. That's my real beard."

The baby wouldn't let it go though, too entranced by the thick yet soft material.

Sirius scooped him up then, keeping him close to his face, but using one hand to try to open the tiny clutching fingers. "Ho! Ho! You have a strong grip, little one! But you've got to be nice to Father Christmas, or he'll fill your sock with pebbles next year. You don't want that, do you?"

Harry babbled a few disconnected sounds, letting his hands slide down to the pointed end of the beard, fluffing it but not tugging at it.

"I knew you would see my point," Sirius grinned. "You're a very smart puppy, you know that? Of course you know. You're much smarter than your dad anyway. You believe he thought you'd start crying when you saw me?"

Examining the white hairs with big round eyes, Harry cooed.

"That's exactly what I told him. Poor Prongs thinks he knows everything. You cut him some slack, okay, puppy? It's not his fault if he's not as clever as you are."

"Well, Happy Christmas to you too, Sirius," Peter grunted.

"Hey, Wormtail!" the other greeted him with an ear-to-ear smile. "How's it going?"

"Late."

"Late?"

"You and Remus were supposed to be here forty minutes ago!"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that. You've lost a great opportunity to surprise us all by being punctual for once in your life."

"Why the grouchy face, Peter? We're here now."

"Yeah, but now everything is forty minutes late. Maybe more, because now Lily has to undo the spells you cast on yourself."

"Have another mince pie, if you're that hungry."

"That's not the point! The point is that your negligence has affected us all!"

"So we're late," Sirius shrugged. "We'll have the Christmas pudding by four o'clock instead of three. Will someone here die of pudding withdrawal?"

"It's not nice to mess with Lily's schedule," Peter insisted. "And this way we'll still be eating when it's time for the Queen's Christmas Message."

"You don't say!" Holding Harry with his left arm, Sirius pressed his other palm against his chest in a dramatic gesture. "That's awful! I'm so desolated! You think Her Majesty will ever forgive me? That might affect my entire life, you know."

"This is no laughing issue," Peter hissed, his eyes narrowed into angry slits.

"Am I laughing?"

"You're mocking me."

"Don't be so sensitive, Wormtail!"

"Don't you be so arrogant, Sirius. My family has always made a point of having Christmas dinner early so we could all sit around the fireplace and watch the Queen's Message. Lily was telling me earlier that her parents used to do the same — only they watched it in that Muggle tell-vision of theirs. So maybe we want to watch the Message, and maybe we don't care if you think it's stupid. Has it ever occurred to you, Sirius? That maybe we don't give a damn if you agree with us or not?"

"Hey..."

"It's a family thing, Sirius, to gather everyone together to listen to the Queen, knowing the whole country is doing the same. A tradition. Just because you don't take traditions seriously, it doesn't mean they shouldn't be followed."

"Who says I don't take traditions seriously? I'm the one who brought Father Christmas' joyful laugh to this house on this festive day..."

Peter rolled his eyes, folding his arms. "Why do I bother? There's no point talking to you anyway."

"Black, stop bullying Peter," warned Lily, just coming back with a glass of earth-coloured liquid.

"I'm not bullying anyone, Ms Head Girl Evans! Pettigrew was the one who started it!"

"Yeah, sure. Give me back my son and drink this."

Sirius passed her the baby — who started pouting when he found out his mother didn't have a nice, soft, white beard as his godfather had —, and received the glass, sniffing it tentatively. "Foul..."

"Quick, before it gets green," she urged him.

"But I like green."

"You won't like it when it turns all your body hair into steel thorns."

"Maybe I shouldn't drink it at all then."

"Sirius..."

"Oh come on, Lily! It's my face, my name, my reputation... And Harry likes it! Why can't you let me look like this for a while more?"

"Because you look like a respectable old man, and I don't want to spend this entire day looking at you and feeling like I should respect you."

Sirius chortled, genuinely amused. "Good reason," he said, and drank the potion in one gulp. "Argh. Foul indeed..."

Lily only smirked. "You fix the colour or do I?"

"Don't you dare touch my hair..." With a grimace, Sirius pulled his wand from one of the pockets in his jacket, tapping the top of his own head with its tip. "Crinis consanesco."

Just in time. His hair and beard turned back to their usual black only a second before the potion started working, causing the beard to thin and shrink and vanish under Sirius' skin.

And causing Harry to start crying.

"I told you he'd cry!" yelled James from the front door.

"Well, don't blame me!" Sirius shouted back. "He was perfectly happy until your wife shooed Father Christmas away!"

Lily rocked the baby and massaged his back, trying to distract him. "Yelling won't make him calm down," she hissed.

Sirius' humour disappeared as guilt hit him. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean... Here, let me hold him."

"No, Sirius..."

"I'll get him to calm down, I promise. You go say hi to Moony."

Lily didn't seem too keen on letting Sirius hold her son, but James was just now stepping into the kitchen, followed closely by Remus. "Merry Christmas, everyone!" the werewolf greeted.

With Harry bawling in his repentant godfather's arms, Lily sighed and turned to Remus to give him a warm embrace. "Merry Christmas, Remus. Glad you could come."

"Sorry we're so late."

"Don't worry, dinner is late too."

That led Sirius to scowl at Peter, who simply shrugged and stood up to greet the newcomer as well. "Happy Christmas, Moony. Thanks for the watercolour pencils set, I really needed a new one."

"Does that mean I get to see your new works?" Remus grinned, patting Peter's back in a half-hug. "Last drawing you've shown me was from Harry's first day of life."

"I'm afraid I haven't done anything worth showing lately."

"Hard to believe that..."

Meanwhile, Harry kept proving he had some rather powerful lungs for someone so small.

"Maybe you should give him to me," James told Sirius, wincing at his boy's loud wailing.

"It's okay, I can do it," Sirius assured him, pacing around while trying to soothe the child with swaying motions. "He's just frustrated, he'll be okay in a minute."

"But..."

"Oh, let him, James," Lily huffed. "I need your help with those carrots anyway."

"Can I help?" Remus offered.

Lily considered it for a second, then pointed at a package on the table. "How do you feel about venting your annoyance at having to put up with Sirius on some poor, innocent slices of bread and shred them into little crumbs?"

"Sounds like the perfect job to me. Just let me wash my hands."

Soon everyone in the Potters' kitchen found themselves busy with something. Lily was trimming some Brussels sprouts. James, after being chided over the potatoes, was doing his best to cut all the carrots in small even-sized pieces. Remus had taken over the making of the bread sauce. Peter was bravely holding back the tears as he chopped onions.

And Sirius was singing and beating the back of a small pan as if it were a drum. "Come, they told me... Pa rum pum pum pum..."

Harry, sitting on Sirius' lap, tried to teach his godfather a more interesting style of percussion, which consisted mostly of hitting the steel with wide-open hands without any care for rhythm.

Dropping a smooch on the top of the infant's head, Sirius went on, "A new born King to see... Pa rum pum pum pum..."

"You know, darling, we could do all this much faster with our wands," James moaned for the eleventh time in the last ten minutes.

"Our finest gifts we bring... Pa rum pum pum pum..."

"I told you I'd offer you guys the best of the Evans' Christmas traditions, and wands were never part of it."

"To lay before the King... Pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum..."

"Speaking of which, Sirius, where did you learn that song?" Lily wondered. "I thought it was an exclusively Muggle carol."

"From my enchanting mini-cousin, Nymphadora. She played it for me on Ted's new record player thing."

"And she kept putting this particular song on over and over," Remus sighed. "I'm afraid even I have all the stanzas memorised."

"Well, there's only three anyway," Sirius shrugged.

"Is it really an exclusively Muggle carol?" asked Peter. "I had never heard it, but..."

"I don't know what the story is, actually," Lily admitted. "All I know is that in my first year at Hogwarts, at Christmas' Eve, I was sort of crooning that carol and Alan Schmidt came up to me, all serious and fretful, and told me I should never sing that song where a wizard or witch could hear me."

"And only now you tell me?" Sirius grimaced. "I'd have learned it ages ago, to sing it to my dear mother at the ever-buoyant Christmas celebrations at the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Remus was frankly puzzled. "I don't understand. Wizards don't usually have a problem singing 'Silent Night', and Franz Gruber was a Muggle."

"You know Alan probably learned to read from a pro-Segregation primer," James sneered. "I wouldn't take his musical opinions too seriously."

"Still, there must be a reason," Remus insisted. "Even if a weak one. I don't think something like this would come completely out of nowhere. But the lyrics are completely innocent, there's nothing about..." He trailed off.

"About...?"

But Remus was staring at the pan Harry was still drumming on, a weird look in his face. "Good grief. Of course."

The other adults exchanged blank looks, completely out of the loop. "Of course what, Moony?"

"Think about it, Sirius. The carol is about a boy, an ordinary boy, who has nothing to offer baby Jesus, so he plays his drum for him. And baby Jesus likes it and smiles at the boy."

"So...?"

"So... while the Three Wise Men, three magical men, lay their finest gifts before the King..."

"...it was the Muggle boy banging a drum that got his approval," Sirius groaned. "That's ridiculous. But it's exactly the kind of thing my mother would bitch about."

"Watch your language around my son, Black."

"Sorry, Ms Head Girl Evans."

"Sirius, you should warn Ted," said Peter.

"Warn Ted? Of what?"

"Of the danger of exposing Nymphadora to political material."

"It's a Christmas carol, Wormtail! It's not an Integralist anthem. Besides, Andie wants to raise Nymph to manage in both worlds, and I happen to second that."

"She's a Metamorphmagus! She doesn't stand a chance of going unnoticed in the Muggle world."

"Carrots are ready," James announced, a bit too loudly, "for whatever unfortunate fate you have planned for them."

"Thanks, dear. You can put them in that casserole over there."

As Lily gave more instructions, Peter and Sirius returned to their assigned tasks of chopping onions and entertaining a godson that suddenly realised percussion was a bit boring.

"I haven't seen Andromeda in a while," she commented after a while. "How is she?"

"She's fine," said Sirius, getting on his feet with Harry snuggling his neck. "Lovely and venomous as ever."

"And Nymphadora?"

"Lovely, not at all venomous, tireless and astonishingly clumsy, yet in a very charming way."

"And she has a crush on Padfoot," Remus informed them with a lopsided grin.

Sirius winked at him. "She's a kid with good taste, you can't deny that."

"No way." Peter shook his head. "She's too young to have crushes."

Lily giggled. "Too young? When I was Nymphadora's age, I had a major crush on Jonathon Hoyland; he had just entered university and lived across the street."

"Would you please not mention your dirty past inside my house?" James glared at her. "Just because I forgave you for not falling for me at first sight, it doesn't mean I'm willing to deal with the results of your incomprehensible blindness."

"If you bothered to listen, you'd realise why I failed to fall for you at first sight."

"Because you didn't know what was good for you?"

"Because I've always been attracted to older, mature, intelligent men."

"Then why did you marry Jamie, of all people?" asked Sirius, mimicking an intrigued face.

"Oh no," James moaned. "Jamie-bashing hour already? Or should I say, again?"

"You could say it was an optical illusion," Lily told them, and pointed to the large wizard oven at her back. "Just like when I bought that turkey. In the middle of all those huge turkeys, this one looked a lot smaller then it actually was. Likewise, James was always prancing around with Sirius, so..."

"Poor Lily," said Peter, patting her arm. "You actually fell for our little trick."

Remus nodded gravely. "That's true. What you've never understood, Lily, is that this is precisely the reason why we let Padfoot hang out with us. He makes us all look much better than we really are, just by being himself."

"And he makes us look generous and compassionate too," James added. "Because people see us with him and think, 'By Merlin, you guys must have immense hearts of gold to put up with a nitwit like that!' Never fails."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Excuse me? I thought this was Jamie-bashing hour."

"Well, yeah, but since we're all behind schedule today, I thought we could speed things up a bit," Lily countered with a remarkably straight face. "Who's next in the bashing line?"

Remus raised his hand. "Me, I suppose. But before you start the infamous jokes about chocoholic wolves, I have one more thing to say about dear old Padfoot. I think he should try not to be seen with Harry so often."

"I agree," said Peter. "Looking childish near a four-month-old can be very embarrassing."

"I'll have you know Harry is almost five months old," Sirius grunted. "So it's not that bad."

After several frustrated attempts in which he alternately slapped his godfather's face and pulled his hair, Harry finally managed to capture Sirius' ear between his fingers and let out an unmistakably victorious titter.

"Hey, puppy, don't look so smart, okay?" Sirius grinned. "You're gonna ruin my reputation."

Finished with the onions, Peter put down the knife. "You see, Prongs? Twenty minutes to grab Padfoot's ear. That's not a Seeker."

Lily hid her face on her hands and huffed, "Can't you guys talk about anything else?"

"Of course he's not a Seeker," said Sirius, trying to disentangle Harry's tiny hand from his ear before the infant decided to yank his earring off. "Harry is clearly Beater material. Strong, energetic, tenacious..."

"...slobbering, uncoordinated, prone to tantrums, giggling at the silliest things..." Remus took up, arranging the bread crumbs in a bowl. "But I think you are selling Harry short, Peter. He's not like Sirius. He will grow up."

"I wish I could count on someone beside myself to give Harry a good example of how grown-ups should behave..." Lily moaned.

"Sirius is the only bad example here," James protested.

"I'm not!"

"Are too."

"I'm not!"

"Are too."

Lily was getting particularly nasty with the Brussels sprout in her hands. "Don't any of you ever think of Harry being something other than a Quidditch player when he grows up? Don't you ever dream of Harry becoming a Healer, an Auror, a teacher, a businessman, an artist, a politician... maybe even the Minister for Magic?"

"No," James and Sirius replied in one voice.

"Not really," said Peter in an apologetic tone.

She turned to Remus then, her eyes gleaming at the one who was her last, only hope.

"Er..." Remus bit his lip. "Maybe a referee?"

The men were saved from Lily's leering retort by Sirius' yelp of pain. Harry seemed to think the sword-shaped earring was a great rattler.

"Reason number forty-two why you shouldn't be wearing that earring," James snickered.

"I don't think I've heard the previous forty-one."

"I can give them to you now. One: it's ridiculous. Two: it's too showy. Three: it's girlie."

"Shut up, Potter."

"Four..."

"I'm serious, Jamie, you really don't want to continue this."

"But I have all the other thirty-eight on the tip of my tongue!"

"Lily, you think Harry is hungry?"

James blinked at the sudden change of subject, but didn't persist. Instead, he gazed at his son, who now had three of his little fingers inside his mouth and was sucking at them a bit too enthusiastically.

"Yes, I think he is," said Lily. "Can you boys handle things here while I feed him?"

"Sure," Remus assured her. "If you give us some instructions..."

While Lily took Harry upstairs, Remus and Peter took over the meal preparation, James escaped the kitchen with the excuse of choosing the wine, and Sirius fled as well with the very lame excuse of helping James.

The wooden stairs leading to the cellar cracked at the two friends' every step. "I keep telling you: this is a great place to breed Acromantulas," Sirius teased.

"And I keep telling you: you and Hagrid have way too much in common to be just a coincidence."

"What are we looking for?"

"Nothing too exotic. Or bland. Or overpowering. Some middle ground. Forward and friendly."

"I used to follow Father into the cellar just to listen to him talk about wines like that," Sirius murmured, examining the bottle shelves. "As if they were people, each one with a different personality. Actually, when I was about Nymph's age, I thought there was an imp inside each bottle, and that they turned into wine when the cork was drawn out, so the taste would vary according to the imp's temper."

"Who knows? Your father's cellar is certainly damp enough to make imps a good home."

"Didn't you say you bought a Gewurztraminer last week?"

"Too young. It would need at least a couple of hours to breathe."

"Tsk, tsk... Shouldn't you have picked the wine yesterday then? What kind of host are you anyway?"

"A host with a nearly five-month-old son. These days, I'm lucky when I remember to put on my trousers before going out."

To James' surprise, Sirius passed this golden opportunity to make a wise crack. "Jamie, I need to ask you something."

"Somehow I thought you didn't decide to come just for the pleasure of my company..."

"Did Lily put a Sickle in the Christmas pudding?"

James frowned. "I... don't know. I didn't see her do it."

"She didn't mention if the Evanses used to do it?"

"She told me they didn't add coins to the pudding because Muggles don't use pure silver coins anymore, and it seems the alloy ones they have now would taint the pudding."

"So you think there's no coin at all in it?

"I don't know. Probably not."

"But she insisted on every other part of the pudding tradition. Baking it on the last Sunday before Advent, having everyone stir the mixture with a wooden spoon from east to west and making wishes, tasting the brandy over and over to make sure of its quality..."

"...so it would have made sense for her to add a Sickle," James groaned.

"That's what I thought. Only there'll be a werewolf eating that pudding."

"I'm sure Lily remembered that. He was here on Stir-Up Sunday after all."

"But you don't know if she put it in or not."

"Erm. No, I don't know. Not for sure."

"Well, don't you think this is important? What if Remus finds himself with a Sickle in his mouth? What if he swallows it?"

"Then ask her."

"What?!"

"Ask. Her."

"I can't do that!" Sirius retorted, sounding as if James had just made the most absurd suggestion ever.

"Why not?"

"Because if she did remember not to put a Sickle in it, she'll be angry at me for thinking she might have forgot about Remus. She'll take it as an insult. She'll say, 'Only you, Sirius, would think so little of me to imagine I'd forget something as important as not to poison my guests.' Then she'll spend the entire day hinting about how wonderful it would be if you had someone else for a best friend. That will force me to start with the I-wish-Jamie-had-never-married routine, and that just feels wrong now, because of Harry. Besides..." He paused, fingering his earring absently. "She's been really nice to me lately. I don't wanna ruin it all by saying the wrong thing."

"All right, all right..." James rolled his eyes, pulling a dusty bottle from the shelf and examining it. "Doesn't Moony know?"

"Moony?"

"Yeah, Moony. Maybe he mentioned the subject to Lily. Or maybe he was looking when she put the mixture in the bowl..."

"I can't discuss this with Moony."

"Good grief, Sirius!" spat James. "Don't tell me you think he'll be offended if you ask!"

"He'll be hurt. Because he'll know I wasn't paying attention to that on Stir-Up Sunday. He won't say a thing, but he'll feel I'm an idiot that always thinks about things after they already happened."

"That's exactly what you do every time. It shouldn't be a surprise for someone who knows you as well as Remus."

"You know, I think Sirius-bashing hour has lasted long enough, don't you think?"

James chuckled. "Okay, so you don't want to ask Moony. You also don't want to ask Lily. What are you going to do then?"

"Nothing. You will."

"Me?"

"Yes, you're going to ask Lily," Sirius stated.

"I am?!"

"Sure! You're the beloved husband, the other half, the soul mate... You can ask her things and not get her angry."

"I wish..." James sighed.

"And even if she does get angry, there's always make-up sex."

That earned Sirius a mighty glare, and a kick on his shin.

"Peter?"

"Hm?"

"I need you to tell me what happened during the last full moon."

"What? But... didn't Sirius...?"

"You know Sirius. He plays it down not to get me worried, as if I wouldn't notice by the way he looks worried that something did happen. And James is feeling guilty about it, so I can't trust his version either."

"So I'm the only one left..." Peter muttered, pouring sugary lemon juice over the onions and carrots in the casserole in front of him.

"You're the only one I can trust to give me a honest answer."

The blond sighed, twitching his lips. "I didn't see how it exactly happened," he admitted. "Prongs was leading, Padfoot was prodding you on, and I had stayed a little behind. Later Prongs told me you spotted a Nogtail and tried to chase it, but it passed through the wires of this tall fence... I'm not sure if you tried to pass through the same gap or jump the fence entirely... All I know is that I heard you yelp, and when I got there you were hanging upside down, with your hinder legs trapped in the wire.

"You were struggling madly to get free, kicking your front legs, twisting your body in all directions, biting the wire... and of course, it all just made it worse, a lot worse. You were getting more and more entangled in the barbed wire... and the more trapped you got, the angrier you became...

"You were hanging on the opposite side from us, and I was the only one who could cross. Prongs and Padfoot had to run along the fence to find a passage, so I stayed with you. I tried to catch your attention. Make you calm down. But you wouldn't hear me and I... I didn't think coming too close was a good idea..."

"It probably wasn't," Remus soothed him.

"If only I weren't so small!"

"It's okay, Peter."

"No, it's not. The three of you are huge! When you and Padfoot start playing and rolling around, I have to run to safety so I don't get crushed or stepped on... or Prongs has to rescue me and carry me on his antlers..."

"Come on, how many times didn't you save us all from trouble precisely because you can sneak into places none of us can?" Remus offered him a lopsided grin. "What is it with the three of you this time? I know Sirius' anxious mood lately has a lot more to do with Regulus than with me. And I know that whenever Sirius isn't well, James starts acting parental, like he's responsible for all of us and for everything that happens. But you?"

"You've got us all really worried this time, Remus."

"Listen, I may not remember much about what happened, but I saw the wounds the next day," Remus reminded him, squeezing his shorter friend's shoulder for comfort. "I've had it a lot worse than that. So much worse."

"I know, but..." Peter gulped, brushing his thin hair away from his sweaty brow. "You were a scary sight, Moony."

Remus stepped back, suddenly aware that Peter was flinching at his proximity.

They remained in silence for a long moment, hearing the sounds of James climbing up the steps that led to the cellar, then the larger staircase to the upper floor, where Lily had taken Harry. They expected Sirius to come up back to the kitchen with the wine bottles, but it didn't happen. No sounds gave away the longhaired man's location in the house.

"Tell me," Remus asked at last.

"Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes."

"All right." Peter took a long breath, but didn't start his tale until he had put the casserole dish inside the ample oven, on the shelf below the turkey, just beside the roasting potatoes. "When Prongs and Padfoot finally managed to get around the fence, you had already trapped a third leg in the barbed wire. You were positively frantic, and blood splashed everywhere. They tried to free you, but with hooves and paws... they couldn't grasp the wire, and we had nothing to cut it with. So they tried to hold you still while I climbed up to see if I could do any better, but you didn't like that. I reckon you felt even more confined... You kept struggling, shaking the entire fence, and I couldn't even get close to you, let alone try to help you. Prongs got clawed on his neck, Padfoot got a bite on his paw, and I got knocked off that fence a dozen times before we gave up. And then... Sirius transformed back."

The colour vanished from Remus' face. "He what?!"

"He was desperate. We all had some of your blood on our fur, and you were wailing like you were in so much pain... In hindsight, I suppose it was more frustration than pain, because you really weren't as hurt as we thought you were, but at the time I thought you were in agony, and I'm sure Sirius thought the same."

"He transformed? Right in front of Moony?"

"I don't think you saw him transform. But he did it right there, three feet away from you. Prongs knocked him down before he could reach you, pinned him to the grass with his antlers. Sirius kept arguing that using human hands was the only way to help you."

"He was completely out of his mind?!" Remus gasped. "Moony would have bitten him for sure!"

"He was out of his mind, no doubt about it," Peter nodded. "I don't think I've ever seen him so frightened. He wanted to set you free as quickly as possible, no matter what. Took him a while to realise he was only making things worse."

Remus closed his eyes, rubbing his lids. "Moony sensed his scent. His human scent."

"And started struggling like nothing I've ever seen or heard of. That whole section of the fence collapsed."

"What about Sirius?"

"Transformed again. Probably got your nose really confused."

"Did Moony attack him?"

"No, you were still trapped in the wire, you could barely move. But with the fence down, it got easier to immobilise you. Padfoot and Prongs lay down on you, keeping you still between their weight and the ground, while I loosened the wires. It wasn't easy, it took me an hour to get you out, and at that point I think you had already forgotten about the human scent. When we were done, you were so exhausted that you just crawled between Padfoot's front and hinder legs and fell asleep, right there and then."

Remus rubbed his temples, fighting a growing headache. "That idiot. That bloody, crazy idiot."

"It all ended well though," Peter comforted him. "You still trusted Padfoot to watch over your sleep, so you probably didn't associate that human scent with him. You've got some ugly scratches on your legs... I mean, on your legs and your right arm... but they really didn't look as bad as we had feared. You just got us really scared for a while. Are you okay now?"

"The scratches are completely healed, if that's what you mean."

"Great. It's good to know."

"I'm sorry, Peter."

"For what? It's not like you got caught in that fence on purpose."

"I'm sorry Moony gave you such a fright."

The reply took a long time to come. "It wasn't your fault."

Remus stared at his own hands, trying to think of something to say. The house was dead quiet, particularly considering the number of people in it.

"I'm not like them," Peter murmured, tilting his head in the direction of the door through where James and Sirius had passed when they left to fetch the wine. "I'll never be like them. James is just completely fearless. He wouldn't hesitate to fly a broom through a dragon reservation or shake hands with a Quintaped. And Sirius... well... he's..."

"Nuts."

"That too," Peter smirked. "He has this unique way of seeing things. He genuinely seems to believe there is nothing wrong with being a werewolf. Er, not that I'm saying there is... I mean..."

"I know what you mean, Peter. As a matter of fact, I sometimes wish Sirius would think more like you do."

"Really?!"

Remus looked out the window, to the motorbike parked outside. "Sirius' acceptance is precious to me, perhaps the most precious gift in my life. I know it doesn't come only from our friendship, but also from his strongest, most thought-out beliefs of how the world should be. But that can be so... overwhelming at times. He speaks of lycanthropy as something so natural that... oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think he wouldn't begrudge me even if Moony ripped his throat open with its fangs."

"True believers are so eerie," Peter muttered under his breath.

"Yes," Remus sighed. "So is unconditional love."

James found his wife sitting on their large bed, naked from the waist up, humming softly as she nursed their beautiful child. Observing the picture with utmost reverence, he silently stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He didn't talk until she had finished the playful lullaby.

"You take my breath away, you know that?"

"That's dangerous," she whispered, beaming a glorious smile. "Breathing is very important."

He came to stand right before her, from where he could see Harry's cute face. "Those eyes will break a thousand hearts when he gets a bit older..."

"As long as he doesn't keep messing up his hair like a delusional berk to impress the girls," she added, with mirth-wrapped affection.

"Well, don't expect me to teach him to keep his hair perfectly groomed and under control. I happen to like messy and unruly."

"As in a hair style, or a life style?"

"Both."

"Afraid you'd say that..."

"Er... Love?"

"Hmmm?"

"I was thinking... When you baked the pudding..."

"Ah."

"Ah?"

"I was wondering which of you would be the asinine git to wonder if I would poison Remus."

"Ah. Well, I'm the asinine git then."

"Are you?" Lily wondered. "Or did Sirius make you ask me?"

James grinned, caught in the act. "Will you hate me more or less if I say yes?"

"More for letting him manipulate you. Less for not doubting my intelligence."

"A tie then. I can live with that." He leaned down to kiss the crook of her neck. "That's sad though. Christmas doesn't feel the same without the anticipation about who's going to break a tooth biting the Sickle in the pudding."

"I know. I hope you find it interesting enough when one of us breaks a tooth biting the Galleon I put in the pudding."

"A Galleon?! My, my, aren't we generous this year!"

"Oh shut up, Mr Scrooge. Help me switch?"

"Sure."

Tenderly, she pressed her finger into the corner of Harry's mouth until he got the idea and let go of her breast with a loud pop! James took the baby in his arms then, while she stretched her limbs and adjusted the pillow on her lap. "Humans should never have learned to walk on two legs," she muttered. "Cows are so much wiser. They just stand there, and the calves are the ones to strain their necks to be fed."

"Uh... you're not really saying you'd like to be a cow, are you?"

"Well, a cat then. Cats just lie on their sides, while the kittens fight for a nipple. That would work for me too."

"That could be done. If you lie on the bed and I put Harry beside you in the right position..."

"I already tried. I can't see him well like that, and I start getting paranoid about suffocating him and not noticing it."

Harry whimpered softly; his mouth was still making sucking moves, causing James to smile. "Mummy, I'm still hungry!" he translated with a kiddie voice.

"I'm ready." Lily opened her arms. "Second serving is up."

It took James about one minute and lots of contortions to lay his son back on the pillow, this time facing his mother's right breast. "What annoys me the most," he chuckled, "is that I know you're going to wean him as soon as I get the hang of this."

"I'm never going to wean him."

"You're not?!"

"No, because I'll never have to. Harry is never going to grow up, you see. He'll always be this tiny little cutie that needs me, that doesn't have to leave for a boarding school and stay away for most of the year, that doesn't give me a heart attack making wild acrobatics on a broomstick, that doesn't break my heart bringing horrible girls home and telling me he loves them more then he loves me."

"And here I thought you wanted him to be the Minister for Magic..."

"He can be the Minister for Magic," she conceded. "As long as he remains being my baby."

He ran his hand gently over her aching back. "You might change your mind about this when your spine starts coiling over like a scroll."

She leaned into his touch, suppressing a moan. "There probably is a suitable position for this. I just haven't figured it out yet."

"We could ask for breastfeeding tips from Britain's new expert on infants and toddlers."

"No thanks," Lily sneered. "I'm not asking Sirius how to breastfeed my baby."

James blinked, startled. "Wait... You know Sirius has been reading books about babies?"

"Yes."

Surprised and suspicious, he eyed her for a long moment, looking for signs of guilt. "Any interesting stories you might want to tell me, love?"

She frowned, confused. "Not really."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"It's just that this reminds me of a certain wife of mine who didn't want to show me what she'd got my best friend for Christmas..."

Lily arched an eyebrow. "How many wives do you have, Potter?"

"It was you, wasn't it?"

"Honestly, no, I didn't do it. I'll admit I did consider giving him the Manual for Babysitting Tiny Wizards, but..." She shifted Harry's position a little, making sure her breast wasn't obstructing his breathing. "Jokes and broomsticks aside, it's clear to me that he's taking his godfathering job very seriously. I don't have any real complaints about his performance so far, so I thought giving him a book like that might give him the wrong message."

"So you didn't."

"Nope."

"Then I am to believe that Sirius Black, by his free will, entered a bookshop and asked for a book on babies' development?"

"Frightening thought as it is, that's probably the truth," she smiled. "And it's not a recent thing, James. By the beginning of autumn he was already offering me tips on bathing Harry."

"You're joking, right?" James slumped back on the bed, chortling. "I don't believe this. I can't even picture the scene!"

Disturbed by the loud sound and the bouncing mattress, Harry stopped sucking and looked up at his mother, uncertain.

"Quiet, James!" she hissed, massaging the baby's back for comfort. "It's okay, love, it's just Daddy being silly, that's all. Ssshhh... it's all right, Harry, all right..."

Soothed by her gentle voice, the infant resumed his meal.

"Shame on you for upsetting your son, Mr Potter."

"Sorry, sorry..." James sat up beside her, an arm around her shoulders, doing his best to suppress his giggling. "I just never thought... I don't know, maybe I shouldn't be so surprised anyway. When we found out about Remus, Sirius turned the Hogwarts library upside down, looking for everything he could find about lycanthropy. And he's been extremely protective of Remus ever since. Then again, there was something daring and exciting about having a werewolf for a chum. It fitted his bad boy image. Reconciling that image with changing diapers is a bit more of a challenge to me."

"You were the one always insisting that Sirius was more than a crazy troublemaker and that I should give him a chance."

"I know. Apparently I was more right than I had thought myself."

They watched their son for a silent moment. Sometimes he would kick and squirm, showing the first signs of boredom, but his mouth still worked furiously at Lily's nipple.

"So what did you get Sirius for Christmas, Lily?"

"If I didn't want to tell you before, why do you reckon I'd tell you now?"

"Because I'm worried about what kind of message you decided to give him?"

"I assure you that you'd have approved my message to him."

"Then why don't you tell me what it was, so I can give you my official approval right now?"

She stared at her husband for a long while, measuring him, pondering, until she made up her mind. "You know that ridiculous, showy, girlie earring he's wearing?"

"Ouch."

"Not your best moment, dear."

"You gave him that onyx sword thingie?"

"That's charm-sculpted obsidian."

"And what's the message in that? That he's obtuse and insidious?"

"I haven't thought of that..." she giggled. "No, I just wanted to let him know that despite his antics, his foolhardiness, his eccentricities, his astounding knack to say the wrong thing at the worst possible moment... I know he's been a good friend to you and that he'll be a great godfather to our son, and that he, even with his motorbike and his weird lifestyle, will always be welcome in our house."

"Wow." James was positively beaming now. "Does charm-sculpted obsidian say all that?"

"Well, I wrote it in a card too, in case he'd miss the most subtle parts."

"Good thinking."

"You're determined to get us all irremediably drunk?" Remus asked when Sirius returned carrying six different bottles of wine.

"I couldn't make up my mind," he explained, placing the bottles on the table. "I'm sure these three are really good, but they're not from Muggle vineyards, so Lily might not want them today. This one is great, but I don't know if it goes well with turkey. I know this one is Jamie's favourite, but he might be saving it for a special occasion. And this is one I always wanted to taste, but..."

Peter arched an eyebrow. "Why did James let you pick, then? I thought he was going to choose the wine."

"He's with Lily now."

"I know that. I'm asking why."

"Because she's his wife? Because she's nursing his son? Because this is his bloody house and he can do whatever he pleases?"

"That's not what I'm asking!"

"Er, Sirius?" Remus called, his tone as casual as possible. "Could you check the turkey and see if the skin isn't burning?"

"If you don't like any of my choices, you go down there yourself and fetch something more to your taste," Sirius snapped, crouching before the oven to do as Remus had asked him. "Although I don't think Jamie keeps cherry syrup in his cellar."

Peter's hands were clenched into fists. "What did I do? I only asked you a question."

"It sounded like a bit more than a question to me," Sirius muttered, closing the oven's door. "Turkey seems fine to me. Ready to be devoured."

"Peter, would you mind going upstairs and call Prongs and Lily?' Remus prompted. "I think we're almost done here."

"Upstairs? But... now?"

"Unless you prefer your turkey carbonised," Sirius drawled.

"But won't Lily be nursing Harry? I can't walk on her like that."

"Why don't you try this, Wormtail: instead of walking on her, you stand just outside the bedroom, close your hand in a fist like this," said Sirius, demonstrating it, "and tap the surface of the door with your knuckles, loud but softly. This is called 'knocking on the door'."

Peter's face turned crimson and he opened his mouth to give Sirius a piece of his mind, but Remus pushed him gently to the door, whispering in his ear, "Take your time, okay? I have a rabid dog to tame here."

"Fine," Peter snarled. "Whatever you say, Moony."

After the blond stormed out, Remus went back to watch the saucepan, making a point of not looking at the sullen man standing right beside him.

"Padfoot, will you do me a favour?"

"Anything, as long as it doesn't involve peeling chestnuts."

"Lay off Peter, all right?"

"What?"

"You've heard me."

"He's not being particularly nice to me, if you haven't noticed."

"You've been picking on him since we arrived."

"We were just discussing politics. The relevance of the monarchy, the problems of raising children in a divided country... You know Peter and I don't agree on those subjects."

"Yes, as you make a point of reminding us all of that whenever you find an opportunity."

"Merlin, you're sounding just like Jamie."

"Thank you."

"That was not a compliment!"

"And your dispute with Peter is not only about politics. What was that about teaching him how to knock on a door?"

"It was a joke! Not my fault if he overreacted!"

"Perhaps it's you who's overreacting here?" Remus suggested, looking straight into Sirius' eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that it's perfectly understandable if Peter was afraid of getting near a crazily thrashing werewolf, so you really have no reason to give him a hard time about that."

Sirius gritted his teeth. "He told you."

"He told me," Remus nodded. "And he apologised. And I told him it was unnecessary."

"Moony..."

"Because it really was unnecessary. I'm sure he did the best he could under the circumstances. I'm sure you all did."

"He was paralysed! He was shaking all over!"

"Anyone with a grain of common sense and self preservation would have been."

"But you were bleeding! And he was too worried about his own hide to help you."

"Because he, unlike you, knew that sacrificing himself to Moony's fangs wouldn't have helped me at all."

Sirius looked away, tapping one of his heels on the floor in a nervous way. "You think it was easy for me to see you trapped like that, struggling desperately to get free, while I could do nothing to help? You think it was easy to stand there, feeling totally powerless?"

"And it didn't occur to you that Peter might be feeling even worse? Padfoot is big enough to be a match for Moony, is strong enough to wrestle a werewolf and not get seriously hurt. Moony can break all Wormtail's bones just by shoving him away."

"Rats are not that fragile."

"A rat needs a lot of guts to be a werewolf's friend," said Remus, emphasising every word. "If our positions were inverted, I don't know if I'd have been that brave."

"Of course you would. You are the bravest of us all."

"You exaggerate my qualities a great deal. And sell Peter way too short."

Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets, lips pressed in a thin line as he watched Remus stir cream into the saucepan. "Peter is a fine bloke," he murmured after a while. "It's just that... I didn't... You said we did the best we could, but... sometimes that's enough. But sometimes it's not. We were lucky that the fence broke and fell. We were lucky that we managed to get you out before you transformed back. We were lucky that all your wounds were superficial. But things could have gone very wrong there."

"So maybe we should stop marauding on full moon nights."

"I didn't say that! What would be the point? You hurt yourself a lot worse if you're locked up."

"What are you saying then?"

"I..." Sirius pulled his hair back, heaving in frustration. "I don't know what I'm saying. I don't have the faintest idea of what I'm trying to tell you. I'm just opening my mouth and letting the words come out without passing through my brain first. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Remus smiled, letting go of the wooden spoon for a moment to squeeze Sirius' hand affectionately. "You don't want me to get hurt. The things you've done to make my life better have gone above and beyond duty. But sometimes I will get hurt and there is nothing anyone will be able to do about it. And you have to learn to deal with it."

"I know that, but..."

"Padfoot, listen to me."

"I am listening."

"No, you're grumbling. Now I really need you to listen."

Sirius closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, then slowly emptied his lungs in a hiss. "Okay. I'm listening now."

Remus forgot everything about the saucepan, about the cooking, about Christmas, and focused his entire attention on Sirius and on making this one message get across. "You did the best you could for your brother. I know you think you didn't, but you did."

For a long minute, Sirius didn't show any reaction. Even his eyes, usually so lively and eloquent, were now sombre and unreadable.

Remus sustained the disturbing stare without flinching, without breathing.

Eventually, the taller man offered him a timid grin, his body suddenly relaxing from the acute tension that had dominated it until a second before. "I reckon it's you I should try not to be seen with so often, and not Harry. No one is as good as you in making me look stupid by comparison."

Relaxing as well, Remus returned his attention to the bread sauce just in time to save it. "Funny you should say that. When we were in school, I had this huge inferiority complex because no matter how much I studied my marks were never as good as yours and James'."

"School teaches you to do things," Sirius shrugged. "Marauding teaches you to be smart and cunning. Nothing really teaches you to be wise. That's where you beat us all."

"Like I said, you exaggerate my qualities a great deal."

Sirius lay his hand on Remus' shoulder before forcing the words out in a shy whisper. "I suppose I'm trying to say... thanks."

"And I'm trying to say, you're welcome. And also, thanks for caring, but please try not to care so much."

"I can't promise you that."

"Then please try to keep in mind that I'll be devastated if something happens to you, especially if something happens to you because of me. So don't do anything crazy, okay?"

"But I love you, Moony!" And with that Sirius applied a rather noisy smooch on the werewolf's cheek.

"Get off me, you slobbering mutt!" Remus laughed, a cute blush tinting his face.

The edges of the turkey wings were slightly charred and the carrots were a bit darker than the ideal when the five adults finally managed to get all dishes set on the table, but as their stomachs growled in unison, nobody seemed to care.

James and Lily sat at opposite edges of the rectangular table. Just beside his mother, Harry was trying the highchair for the first time, with a bunch of small pillows to keep him upright. Remus and Peter took the seats at one side of the table, while Sirius took the opposite chair from Remus, at James' right.

Unnoticed by the hungry grown-ups, Harry was pouting.

James raised his glass. "I'll make this brief, so we can tuck in as soon as possible."

"Taking too long already," Sirius growled.

"I just want to thank you all, my worthless, troublesome, impertinent friends for coming today to indulge yourselves in my wine cellar and in my wife's cooking, and teach my kid obnoxious behaviour."

Sirius winked at him. "Our pleasure."

"That's what friends are for," Peter smirked.

"At least the worthless, troublesome, impertinent ones," Remus agreed. "As we're proud to be."

"And I want to make a toast to the beautiful Lily, who puts up with all us worthless, troublesome, impertinent creatures..."

"Amen," she snickered.

"...and who kindly offers us this magnificent meal today, prepared entirely on accord with the Evanses' traditions..." James looked sideways at Sirius now. "...except for the Galleon she's buried in the pudding."

Suppressing a sigh of relief, Sirius raised his glass. "To the beautiful Lily!"

Lily burst into a fit of laughter and raised her glass as well. "Happy Christmas, you sick, crazy animals."

The others followed suit, toasting and chuckling.

"Can we please eat now?" Sirius whinged. "We don't want to miss the Queen's Message after all." He said the last bit in all seriousness, with an apologetic grin to Peter.

The blond blinked, but returned the smile after sipping from his glass. "Great wine."

Sirius was about to reply when his chair leaned back on its rear legs.

"Careful with the chair, Sirius," Lily warned him. "They're not very sturdy."

"I'm not doing this," the longhaired man murmured, looking around worriedly.

James frowned. "What do you mean, you're not doing this?"

Sirius bent forward, and the chair fell on its four legs again. It stayed there only for two seconds though, this time standing on its left legs, almost sending its occupant to the floor. "Whoa!"

"Prongs, is this your traditional Christmas Prank on Padfoot?" Remus asked wryly. "You usually wait until after the dessert..."

But James seemed as puzzled as everybody else in the room.

Sirius braced himself as his chair started sliding sideways, slowly but resolutely, until it stopped at the other edge of the table.

Right beside a happily giggling baby who was reaching out with both his hands.

Sirius gaped, his eyes bulging. "I think you want your godfather to sit close to you, is that it?"

"I don't believe it," Lily was whispering, clearly wanting to scream and jump and dance with joy. "I don't believe it. He did this? My baby did this? I don't believe it!"

"He's doing involuntary magic already?" Peter was greatly impressed. "I didn't do a thing before I was fourteen months old. Or so my parents told me."

"Congratulations, Prongs," said Remus, patting the proud father's back. "Only you should start teaching him that he can't Accio the Snitch. It's against the rules."

"Why didn't he magick me to his side?" James was whinging. "I'm his father!"

"Don't be sad, Jamie," Sirius smiled, holding the baby's hands between his thumbs and index fingers. "You don't have to be jealous just because the puppy obviously loves me more than he loves you."

"Lily? Would you please whack that nitwit's head for me?"

"Gladly, my darling!"

"OUCH!"

Remus winced. "Watch out, Lily. You don't want to break what little still works in there."

~ finis ~