l o r d . o f . m i s r u l e

Lord of Misrule
[by victoria p.]

Rating: R

Summary: In which Harry finds out, Remus reminisces, and Sirius gets caught up in the holiday spirit.

Notes: For Sullen Siren, who requested the trio, someone seeing something they shouldn't, opening presents in the Shacking Up Secret Santa. I, er, kinda managed it. I think. Thanks to Devil Doll and Mousapelli for the beta.

Date: December 15, 2004

Sirius stopped on the threshold, startled at the familiar sight of a messy, dark head bent close to a sleek, red one. For a moment, he was transported back twenty years, until Harry and Ron looked up, breaking the illusion.

"I was just showing Ron some motorbikes," Harry said, rustling the pages of his magazine. "We were talking about spelling one to fly, and--"

Looking over his shoulder to make sure neither Molly nor Hermione was anywhere within earshot, Sirius smiled and sat down across from them.

"Well, lads, you've come to exactly the right place for that. I bought my motorbike secondhand, but she was brilliant by the time I was done with her, worked all summer to get her in the air-- "

"He neglects to mention that it was Lily who figured out the final charms to make her fly," Remus said.

Sirius turned to see him carrying a battered cardboard box, cobwebs in his hair and dust on his robes.

"What have you got there, Moony?"

Remus thumped the box down onto the table. "Some old Christmas things I found tucked away in my flat. Thought you might enjoy seeing them again." He pulled out a tarnished crown studded with large, cloudy jewels, and tossed it to Sirius, who caught it easily. "Remember this?"

Sirius laughed. "I can't believe you kept it."

"What is that?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

Sirius slid it across the table to him. "A crown."

"I can see that," Harry answered, exasperated, and Sirius had to laugh.

"It was my crown when I was the Lord of Misrule," he said. He turned to Remus. "Are my shoes in there, too? The ones with the curly toes?"

"You had shoes with curly toes?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Goes with the job."

Remus, meanwhile, rummaged through the box and pulled out a pair of red, curly-toed slippers. "The bells have fallen off, I'm afraid."

"You had curly-toed shoes with bells on?" Harry said. "That's so queer."

Sirius glanced at Remus, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. This was obviously not the time to explain to Harry that yes, his godfather was queer, and shagging his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Instead, he said, "When we were in our seventh year, the full moon fell on Christmas night."

"My parents felt I was safer at Hogwarts than at home," Remus continued. "And since attacks on the families of Muggle-borns were increasing, it seemed safer all around to stay where Dumbledore could protect them, so Lily stayed as well."

"Your dad stayed to be near your mum, and I--" he and Remus exchanged another look, "I had nowhere else to go, so I did, too." He closed his eyes, remembering how festive the castle had been, draped in greenery. "In order to make things more exciting, I elected myself the Lord of Misrule--"

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Based on the old Roman festival of Saturnalia," Hermione said, coming into the kitchen with Tonks and Ginny behind her, each carrying bags from their shopping trip. "In ancient times, the Lord of Misrule -- in Scotland he was called the Abbot of Unreason, by the way -- was usually a servant or slave who for the twelve days of Christmas became the ruler of the house, sort of a temporary king. At the end of the festival, his throat was slit as a sacrifice to Saturn."

"Five points to Gryffindor," Sirius said wryly. "Though in later days, the Lord of Misrule was mainly responsible for arranging entertainment for everybody over the holiday, including parties and dancing and sh--"

"Snowball fights," Remus interrupted and Sirius smirked at him. "It was an unusually snowy winter that year, and all the snow made the real world seem very far away."

~*~

Remus listened to the chatter around him as everyone discussed their holiday plans. Peter's family was heading to Bermuda, away from the snow, and James was trying to convince Lily to spend the holiday with his family. Sirius was also spending Christmas with the Potters, though he spoke loudly about going out on the pull every night, the idea of which made Remus slightly queasy, and getting drunk New Year's Eve.

"Moony, you look like you're going to be sick," Peter interrupted himself to say. "What's wrong?"

Remus just shrugged a shoulder. He hadn't mentioned he was staying at school for Christmas hols, and he hoped to keep it quiet for as long as possible. While he'd have given anything to have his friends there for the full moon on Christmas night, he also didn't want the guilt of asking them to give up their holiday plans to stay with him.

He'd been doing a lot of thinking lately about life after Hogwarts, and it seemed to him that this was a good time to start letting them go, because he knew once they'd left school, they'd be leaving him behind as well.

"Are you going to eat that chocolate frog or just stare at it?" Sirius asked, once again interrupting Remus's reverie.

"You can have it," he said, tossing the sweet to Sirius. "I've studying to do, so I'm going upstairs."

He fell asleep with his Arithmancy textbook open in his lap, and woke to the feel of Padfoot snuffling against his neck. He opened his eyes to see the great black dog regarding him solemnly. Remus smiled and ran his hands through the dog's glossy coat, knowing how much Sirius enjoyed that. He wished he could touch Sirius like this when he was human, wished that one day he'd wake up with Sirius's lips pressed against his skin, instead of the dog's cold nose, but was only too aware of how impossible a wish that was.

The dog shimmered for a moment, a fluid transition between beast and man, and then Sirius was lying beside him, hair black against his pillow, face pale as the moon, and just as captivating to Remus.

"You could come with," he said sleepily, continuing their earlier conversation as if no time had passed. "Watch as I finally woo Madam Rosmerta away from whoever it is who's keeping her from me."

"Maybe," Remus answered, smiling.

Sirius never did make it back to his own bed that night, and early the next morning they woke tangled around each other.

~*~

"What else is in the box?" Harry asked, and Remus started.

"Rubbish, mostly," Remus answered with a smile. "Some ancient Christmas decorations," he tossed a clump of tarnished garland onto the table, "my old school ties, and the real reason I brought it." Remus handed Harry a handful of photographs.

"My mum and dad," Harry said softly, and Remus nodded.

"Christmas of that year. There are a few others in here, I think," he said, and everyone crowded around to see a picture of James and Lily making snow angels, and another of James pressing a quick kiss to Lily's cheek as she slipped snow down the back of his coat. "Your mother managed mischief quite well on her own."

Harry smiled, and Sirius ached for him, for the way he'd never know James and Lily as anything but silent figures in faded photographs.

"What else have you got in there?" he asked, his voice rough as he watched Remus sort through the old decorations and bits of paper.

"Not much. My mother's snowglobe collection, some Christmas candles, my old copy of _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_--"

"Is that a first edition?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yes. Sirius gave it to me for my birthday the year it came out." As Remus handed it to her, another photograph fluttered out. He bent to pick it up, and Sirius heard him suck in a breath. "Oh."

"Remus?" Remus handed him the picture. It was of them, arms slung over each other's shoulders, occasionally sneaking kisses, apparently oblivious to the photographer. It took Sirius a moment to place the scene. "Oh, that was--" Remus coughed, and Sirius took the hint, "nothing anybody needs to see right now. I wonder if there are any embarrassing baby pictures of you in here, Remus. Or perhaps some of Harry in nothing but a nappy?"

Harry flushed, and Remus shot Sirius a grateful glance. Sirius was determined to tell Harry about their relationship, but it seemed Remus might be right to wait a bit, lead up to it, rather than present the kid with a picture of them looking kiss-swollen and disheveled from that seventh-year Christmas holiday.

"No baby photos that I've found," Remus replied, "but do you remember these?" He pulled out a chain of paper snowmen and set them on the table in front of Harry. "Salta," he commanded, tapping them with his wand, and the snowmen began dancing. "Lily made these. Decorated the common room with stars and snowmen and all sorts of shiny baubles."

"Which we should be doing here," Sirius interrupted. "Decorating, I mean. Liven the old mausoleum up. I've asked Mundungus to get us a tree, and some mistletoe." He winked at Ron, whose ears turned red and who studiously avoided looking at Hermione, who blushed and turned away quickly. Sirius wanted to laugh at the familiarity of it all, and the joy of having them all in the house for Christmas, now that they knew Arthur would be all right. He picked the crown up off the table and set it on his head. "Going to do it up right this year. All right, you lot, let's go."

Under Sirius's direction, they set out to decorate the house.

~*~

Remus was up on the ladder, helping Lily put the finishing touches on the decorations in the Gryffindor common room, when a letter arrived for her.

Owls were in and out at all hours during the run up to Christmas, as families made plans and sent gifts and cards and, in the case of Mrs. Pettigrew, endless amounts of cookies that Peter shared with everyone.

It wasn't unusual, so Remus didn't really pay attention, until he heard a rather loud sniff, and looked up to see her clutching the crumpled letter in her hand.

"Lily?" He came down off the ladder and reached out a tentative hand, but dropped it before he touched her shoulder.

"I'm not allowed to go to James's for Christmas," she said. "I didn't think I would be but..." She sniffed again. "They don't think I should come home, either. Seems my dad had a letter from Dumbledore... about recent events and--"

Remus nodded. "My parents got one, too."

"You're not Muggle-born."

"My mum is." She nodded, and he went on, "So I'll be here, if you're--"

"Yeah. I guess I ought to tell James. Thanks, Remus." She moved toward the stairs, then turned back and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"What?"

She pointed at the ceiling and slipped away while he looked up to see mistletoe dangling above his head.

~*~

"Luna Lovegood says mistletoe is often full of Nargles," Harry said when Sirius hung it in the doorway.

Ron snorted. "Luna Lovegood is batshit insane."

"Ronald! Language!" Molly said, but it sounded perfunctory to Sirius. She'd joined them for lunch and more decorating, but was planning to head back to St. Mungo's shortly, for which Sirius was grateful. It wasn't that he disliked Molly so much as that she reminded him in some ways of his own mother, before she went, to use Ron's oh-so-apt words, batshit insane. Between that and Molly's tendency to stick her nose into his business where Harry was concerned, Sirius found her difficult to tolerate even in the best of times. He was glad Remus was around to mediate.

"So, tell me about Luna," he said, sidling over to Harry. "Is she fit?"

"They call her Loony Lovegood," Harry responded, looking embarrassed. "She's weird."

Sirius laughed. "But you were under the mistletoe with her?"

"Yeah. No. Not really. I mean, I was under the mistletoe with Cho--"

"Two girls at once? Good for you, Harry."

Harry blushed, and Sirius laughed again. It felt good to be able to tease him like this, to hear him laugh.

"So what happened?"

"Well--"

The doorbell rang, setting off his mother's portrait. He and Remus rushed upstairs to quiet her down, taking the opportunity to steal a quick kiss on the way, as Molly went to open the door.

"Look at this place," Moody was grumbling. "We're getting ready to fight a war, you know."

"We know, Alastor," Remus said before anyone else could speak. "But it keeps us occupied, and even you can't begrudge us some yuletide cheer after everything that's happened."

Moody growled but subsided, and let Molly lead him away for a cup of tea.

~*~

"You are a git." Remus looked up from the chessboard to see Sirius glaring down at him. "Why didn't you just say you were staying here over Christmas?"

Remus shrugged as his opponent, a sixth-year named Anne Gilbert, eyed Sirius with some concern and moved away.

"You all had plans."

"I didn't have plans." Sirius had a flair for denial few people could match, but it never ceased to amaze Remus, who was a much more subtle, and uneasy, liar.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Going out on the pull, dancing till dawn, shagging a new bird every night. Stop me when it starts to sound familiar."

Sirius dismissed his avidly-discussed plans with an impatient wave of his hand. "Utter bollocks."

"I didn't want you to feel obligated to stay," Remus said mulishly, feeling much aggrieved.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Nobody likes a martyr, Remus."

"Nobody likes a whiner, either." Every time he'd thought of telling them, the words had sounded suspiciously whiny in his head.

Sirius leaned close, and actually sounded angry when he said, "You are not a whiner, so shut your stupid mouth before I shut it for you."

"And you wonder why I didn't want to tell you," Remus replied, and just like that, Sirius was laughing, good humor restored. This mercurial temper was one of the things Remus loved best about Sirius, even though it often confused him.

"Well, I wish you had," Sirius said when he sobered. He slipped to the floor and rested his head against Remus's knee, and Remus raised a hand to stroke his hair before remembering that he wasn't allowed, that when Sirius was in human form, he was not to be petted, and certainly not in public.

"Duly noted."

"Anyhow, I'll stay with you."

Remus took a deep breath, because he really wanted Sirius to stay, and not just because he'd got used to having company at the full moon. "Sirius--"

"In fact, we'll have a great time. Hardly anyone else will be around, so we can do whatever we like--"

"You already do whatever you like," Remus murmured and Sirius grinned, but otherwise ignored the interruption.

"Laze about in our pajamas--"

"You don't wear pajamas."

"Noticed that did you?" Sirius looked up at him, grin turning into a smirk, and Remus felt his ears burn with embarrassment.

"Be hard not to, with you prancing about naked like a, a nudist or something."

"Only you could make being a nudist sound like a bad thing." Sirius wiggled against Remus's leg, heavy and warm, and Remus thought this was going to take a very embarrassing turn shortly if they didn't stop talking about Sirius being naked while Sirius was touching him like that. Because Remus didn't have anything against Sirius walking around naked all the time. He quite enjoyed the show, which had fueled many a fantasy, even after he and Robert Greengrass had begun having it off together sometimes in the prefects bathroom last year.

Sirius rubbed his cheek against Remus's thigh and Remus responded automatically, stroking the silky dark hair the way he did when Padfoot nudged at his hand, begging to be petted. When he noticed what he was doing, he stopped, mortified, and glanced around the room. But no one was looking at them, and even if they were, they'd no doubt put it down to some oddness on his part. Sirius was a well-known lothario, and his conquests were always, as far as Remus knew -- and much to his chagrin -- female.

"Mmm, Moony, why'd you stop?" Sirius asked, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

"I--"

"Nobody's watching, Remus. And even if they are, who gives a fuck? They're probably wishing they were here instead."

Remus let out a low laugh. He found Sirius's casual arrogance insanely attractive, but it would never do to let him know that.

"Your head is so inflated it's a wonder you can fit the rest of your body in the room with it sometimes." But he resumed the stroking, telling himself it was just like petting Padfoot. Of course, he didn't believe it.

"I meant they'd be jealous of me, not you, prat," Sirius said, but his voice was warm and rough, not angry, and Remus felt heat rising beneath his skin, pooling low in his belly. This was exactly what he wanted and yet not what he wanted at all. He stood abruptly, clumsily, knocking over the chessboard and attracting the attention he'd wanted to avoid.

"I have to go," he said hoarsely. "I'll see you later." He needed to take matters into his own hands, quickly.

He could have sworn he heard Sirius mutter, "Dammit," as he left, but he wasn't sure.

~*~

Alone in the study, Sirius was starting to think he'd be better off wanking in the shower than waiting for Remus to escape from Molly and her bottomless teapot, when he heard the crack of Apparation and Remus tumbled into his lap, hands landing on his shoulders, lips seeking his.

"Mmm," Sirius murmured when they came up for air, "I thought you were never going to get away."

"She's upset about Arthur, and Percy hasn't been to visit," Remus said, unlacing Sirius's robes with agile fingers. "I know how I'd feel if it were you in hospital, so if she needs a little tea and sympathy--"

"As long as that's all she needs," Sirius answered, running his hands through Remus's shaggy hair, then along the soft skin of his neck, amazed as always that he was allowed to do this, that Remus still loved him and wanted him, after all these years.

"I hardly think Molly's my type, even if she were interested," Remus answered with a laugh, pushing Sirius's robes aside to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his chest before licking at his nipples, sending bolts of pleasure right to his cock.

"Thank God for that," he said with a laugh that turned into a moan as Remus slipped to the floor and, with lips, tongue and the judicious application of teeth, kissed his way down Sirius's chest and belly. His cock was hard and aching to be touched, but Remus teased him, kissing the insides of his thighs, the feather-light brush of his hair against sensitive flesh making Sirius shiver and gasp.

"Haven't you made me wait long enough?" he said, twining his fingers in Remus's hair again, trying to lead that hot, wet mouth where he needed it most.

"Always so impatient," Remus murmured fondly, but he didn't waste any more time, wrapping his lips around the head of Sirius's cock, tonguing the slit.

"So good," Sirius moaned, "so fucking hot, Remus. God--" He could barely speak as Remus moved his lips up and down the shaft, pressing his tongue to the underside. "Remus," he repeated, a litany, a prayer, as Remus made him feel things he'd forgotten existed during his time in Azkaban. His balls tightened and he was almost, not quite--

The air in the room shifted, wafting coldly over Sirius's bare skin, and he glanced up, distracted, to find himself looking into Harry's eyes, wide and horrified behind his glasses. For one endless moment they just stared at each other, and then Harry whirled and bolted, slamming the door behind him.

Remus turned to look over his shoulder, but Harry was already gone.

"Oh, fuck," Sirius groaned.

"Who," Remus began, then, "Harry?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Remus sat back on his heels and smiled wryly. "Well, you did keep pushing to tell him."

"Not like this. Fuck, Remus."

Remus leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one long-fingered hand stroking his hair, and Sirius felt his heart begin to slow to a more normal pace. With a quick wave of his wand, he refastened his robes.

"I have to talk to him."

"Do you want me to--"

"No. If he doesn't want to see me, maybe he'll let me in as Padfoot. I don't-- Fuck."

Remus kissed him again gently, and Sirius inhaled the warm, calming taste of tea and Remus.

He walked up the stairs slowly, trying to figure out what to say. He tried to remember how they'd told James, but all he could see was Harry's pale, shocked face, ghostly in the flickering candlelight.

He knocked on the door, and when there was no response, pushed it open. Ron was snoring in one bed, and Harry was curled up on the other, clutching a pillow, his back to Sirius.

"Harry--"

"Go away." Harry's voice was muffled by the pillow.

"Harry, please--"

But the boy's shoulders were set and Sirius knew better than to force the discussion. He let himself melt into dog form, and approached Harry that way, snuffling at his neck. Harry pulled away. Padfoot whined, but Harry didn't respond. Heaving a great doggy sigh, he lay down on the rug and spent the night on the floor beside Harry's bed.

~*~

Sirius spent the next few days in a frenzy of holiday preparation, stringing popcorn to hang on the tree in the Gryffindor common room (and setting the popcorn -- and the tree -- on fire while attempting to hang it, which, in the end, meant he dragged Remus out into Hogsmeade that evening to purchase a new tree; the scent of charred pine lingered in the air for days, despite James's best efforts to get rid of it), singing carols, and entering into the Christmas spirit with the breathless enthusiasm he brought to everything he enjoyed doing. Remus enjoyed watching him, bemused at the sudden whirlwind of activity instead of the quiet, lonely holiday he'd expected.

But still, the cold and the damp seemed to seep into his bones more frequently as the full moon approached, and he was often to be found wrapped up in his comforter, reading, with Padfoot curled around him. They fell asleep that way three nights running, and on the third morning, which was Christmas Eve, when Remus woke, Sirius was still in bed with him. He inhaled the scent of sleep-warm Sirius, soap and shampoo and sweat, and pushed his trembling hands up under Sirius's shirt -- it couldn't hurt, could it? Sirius was asleep, he'd never know -- to touch the soft skin of Sirius's taut belly, smoothing the line of dark hair that led down to--

Sirius's eyes opened, and Remus bolted from the bed, breathing heavily.

"Come back to bed, Moony," Sirius murmured sleepily. "We're on holiday, remember? No lessons for weeks."

Remus froze, whether from shock at what he'd been caught doing or because the fire had burned out and the room was ice cold, he wasn't sure. "I, I have to take a piss," he managed, but Sirius was already asleep again.

He went into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, which sounded as if it were yawning when it said, "Up early, aren't we?"

He grunted in response and, since he was in there anyway, relieved himself. He had to be dreaming. There was no way in his waking life he had just groped Sirius Black and then been asked by him to come back to bed. On the other hand, if he were dreaming, that meant he was probably wetting his bed right now, and that was much more humiliating than anything Sirius could dream up to avenge his heterosexual honor if he felt it had been offended.

"Oi, Moony, did you fall in?" Sirius called, pounding on the door.

Not a dream, then. That was probably for the best, all things considered.

Usually when he went to sleep with Padfoot beside him, he woke to find Sirius had moved to his own bed at some point in the night, though the last couple of times, that hadn't happened. Maybe it was an Animagus thing, though Remus couldn't remember ever reading anything about Animagi reverting to their natural states while asleep.

He opened the door to see Sirius nearly vibrating with excitement. "It's snowing!"

"Again?" Remus sighed.

Sirius ignored his unenthusiastic response. "This means we can have a snowball fight."

Remus was tempted to go back into the bathroom and shut the door in Sirius's face. They'd had a snowball fight every day since mid-December, and even seasoned snow warriors sometimes got bored. The day before, James had participated half-heartedly, and let Lily drag him up to Gryffindor Tower for hot cocoa after only about fifteen minutes in the snow, leaving Remus and Sirius to be pelted by vengeance-minded Ravenclaws until they'd had to run, slipping and sliding, back to the castle. But today Remus had his escape planned.

"I have gifts to buy and wrap," he said repressively, walking back to his bed. Sirius followed.

"Pfft. As if you've ever left your shopping until Christmas Eve."

"I did this year."

"Then I'll come with you."

"I thought you were going to start a snowball fight?"

"That's stupid kids' stuff, Remus."

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going back to bed. And then I'm going shopping." He slipped beneath the covers and held his breath for a moment, wondering if Sirius would follow. When he did, curling up behind him and trying to steal the blankets, Remus swallowed hard and thought he wouldn't sleep another wink.

~*~

Harry stepped over Sirius the next morning as if he weren't there, and ignored his attempts to talk at breakfast. Remus was making himself scarce, so Sirius went back to the room they weren't officially sharing to shower, and found Remus there.

"Perhaps we should take my name off of the gift," he began, but Sirius wouldn't hear of it.

"No. He's going to have to learn to live with it, with us. James did-- and before you tell me he's not James, let me reiterate that I am well aware of that." He could feel his temper slipping and he took a deep breath to rein it in. "However, the fact remains that you are a part of my life, and a part of Harry's." He paced the room, running a hand through his hair, which smelled of dog and damp and dust from sleeping on the old carpet.

"And I very much want to be, but forcing him to accept--"

"Nobody's forcing anybody to do anything, Remus. We ought to have told him sooner." Remus opened his mouth, but Sirius plowed ahead. "And it's not your fault we didn't. I didn't have to listen to you, but I did. I was as nervous about it as you were. Where the hell are you going?" he asked as Remus moved toward the door.

"Well, if you're going to have both sides of the conversation, you certainly don't need me."

Sirius snorted. "Stop being such a big girl's blouse and help me figure out what to say when Harry finally decides I exist again."

"It could be a while," Remus answered with a wry smile. "It took James weeks to come around."

And he'd never been quite comfortable with it, though he'd learned to hide it after a while. Sirius's stomach clenched at the memory. "You don't think--"

"I don't know, Sirius. But I'm sorry I convinced you to wait. You were right."

Sirius smiled for the first time in hours. "Why, Moony, I didn't think I'd ever hear you say that. I should mark it on the calendar-- today is the day Remus J. Lupin finally admitted Sirius Black was right about something."

"Prat."

Obviously, the only way to shut Remus up was with a kiss.

~*~

"I can't believe you're actually not done with your shopping," Sirius said as they fought their way through crowds of last-minute shoppers in Hogsmeade. "I've had your gifts for weeks."

Remus shrugged. "Just got the money from Mum and Dad," he said, not looking at Sirius, though he could imagine the pity in Sirius's eyes.

"Oh. Well." Remus did look at him now, watched as ideas chased emotions across his face. "You don't have to buy me anything," he said.

Remus smiled at this uncharacteristic restraint. "I'm not doing it because I have to, Padfoot, but because I want to. Of course, it's hard to buy a gift for someone who has everything."

"I told you, you don't have to buy me anything."

Remus pushed open the door to Gladrags and looked back over his shoulder. "Who said I was talking about you?"

"Moony." Only Sirius could make whining sound attractive. "Who else is left?"

Remus had already bought a large variety of sweets for Peter, and a calendar featuring the Quidditch teams of the United Kingdom for James, but he needed a gift for Lily, and one for Sirius.

He glanced back at Sirius, mouth quirked in a teasing half-grin. "Lily."

"Oh." Sirius sounded not displeased, but deflated. Remus wondered if he were still taking James's sudden change in priorities hard. Earlier in the year, when Lily had first agreed to go out with James, shocking them all, Sirius had been angry, and then morose at what he saw as James's defection. Because it was obvious from the start that Lily wasn't like any of the other girls James and Sirius had pulled, and that she was probably going to be around for the long haul.

Used to Sirius's odd mood changes, Remus ignored this one, focusing instead on a pair of black leather gloves, the calfskin soft and buttery under his fingers. He couldn't afford them, and really, his wool gloves kept him warm enough once he charmed them. With a small sigh of longing, he moved on toward the ladies' section, stopping at a display of silk scarves.

"Do you think Lily would like this scarf?" he asked, holding up a brown scarf with pink triangles on it. Sirius just looked at him uncertainly. "That's a no, then." He sorted through the selection, which had obviously been picked over many times, because there wasn't much left that wasn't ugly or drab. He caught a glimpse of bright green buried under a pile of loud prints; a little digging revealed a lovely square of vibrant emerald silk. "She'd look beautiful in this, don't you think?" It would cost more than the boys' presents combined, though, and he couldn't really afford it, so he put it back with another sigh.

"Do you like Lily?"

Remus blinked. "Of course, I like Lily. Are you daft? Wait. Don't answer that." He smiled as he thought of her. "Singe the hair off your head with that temper, but she's quite lovely, really. Why else would I be worrying about buying her a gift?"

Sirius looked like he was about to be sick all over the scarves. "I mean, d'you, you know, fancy her?" he blurted, apparently intent on a garish purple scarf with green spirals embroidered on it.

"No," Remus answered without hesitation, absently picking up a fuzzy red scarf and running his fingers over it. "Not at all. I mean, I can see why James does, but--"

"Oh, good." Sirius sounded so relieved that Remus felt a pang of concern.

"Did I do something? Is she upset?" He remembered the brief kiss under the mistletoe. "Does James think I--"

"No! No. Nothing like that. I just--" Sirius shrugged. "You don't really talk about the girls you fancy, and I just wondered, I mean, I can see it might be awkward if you did, and--"

Remus laughed nervously. "No, not at all," he repeated. "She's a good friend. And she makes Prongs happy." He took a deep breath, though now he felt as though he were the one going to be sick all over the scarves. "You know I don't fancy girls," he said in a low voice, willing himself not to puke and watching Sirius out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. He really hoped Sirius didn't hit him. The fact that they were in public was no guarantee.

Sirius just nodded. "I thought so." He didn't say anything else, and Remus heaved an enormous sigh of relief. He realized he'd been clutching the scarf tightly, and loosened his grip. An ironing charm would fix that right up, he thought dazedly, dropping it back onto the table. He'd just come out to Sirius, and the world hadn't ended. He took another deep breath. Things were definitely looking up.

"Back to Honeydukes," he said. "I guess I'll get Lily those Sugar Quills after all."

"I'll meet you there," Sirius replied, with a dazzling smile. "Got to see Madam Rosmerta about libations for tonight's party."

Remus nodded, and walked out into the snowy afternoon feeling light-headed, and happier than he had in a while.

~*~

After lunch, Harry escaped to his room with Ron, and Sirius didn't go after him. He was still trying to figure out what to say. He spent the afternoon decorating the tree Mundungus had brought in, with help from various Weasleys, and the twins badgered him for ideas for their joke shop. It was really quite a brilliant scheme; he wished he'd thought of it, and made a note to himself to look into making an anonymous investment. He could have Remus take care of it on his next trip to Gringotts.

Molly overheard him telling the twins about the charms he and James had used to make it rain in the Slytherin dungeons; she gave him the evil eye, muttering about bad examples and proper careers for proper wizards, but he ignored her as skillfully as Harry was ignoring him.

When they were done, he headed to the study to sit with Remus while Remus did paperwork for Dumbledore, writing reports about the trips he'd been on, the people he'd met with, the information he'd gathered.

Sirius poured himself a mug of tea from the pot sitting on the desk, and wrinkled his nose. A quick tap of his wand and a murmured spell transfigured it into coffee, which he much preferred. He liked watching Remus work, had always liked it. Remus had a way of concentrating on something that never failed to capture Sirius's interest, because Remus became so utterly absorbed in what he was doing, and he lost some of the reserve he wore like a second skin. His face became animated as he read or worked, his eyes lit with pleasure or frustration, his brow furrowed, and his teeth worried at his lower lip.

Sirius loved being the focus of that kind of attention, and when they were younger, he'd spent a lot of time distracting Remus from other things to have it. Now, he was content to bask in the warmth of the fire, lounging on one of the overstuffed chairs he'd moved down here, watching Remus work. He'd done some desultory research for Dumbledore in the autumn, but it wasn't what he wanted to be doing, and he was sure the old man had asked him only as a sop to his pride. Remus was much better at that sort of thing. But Sirius wasn't going to let his own discontent with being locked up again ruin Christmas. Not when Harry was in the house. Even if Harry was not currently speaking to him.

It was quiet, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the scratch of Remus's quill against parchment, and Sirius was startled out of a light doze by a knock.

"Is it safe to come in?" Harry called, his voice muffled by the heavy wood of the door.

Sirius straightened up and looked quickly at Remus, who gave a brief shrug, before saying, "Of course."

Harry pushed the door open and glanced from him to Remus and back again. "I reckon I've been kind of a git," he started, but Sirius cut him off quickly.

"It's all right, Harry, really. I'm sure it was a bit of a shock." Sirius avoided Remus's gaze, because he didn't want to laugh during this conversation, and he knew Remus had probably raised an eyebrow at this vast understatement.

"Oh yeah, just a bit," Harry said caustically, and Sirius was reminded of Lily's sharp tongue and quick temper, but he was determined to get this over with, and deal with Harry's reaction, whatever it was.

He took a deep breath and blurted, "Remus and I are -- together."

"Yeah," Harry answered with a nod. "I kind of figured that out when I saw him sucking your dick."

Remus made a choking sound. Sirius ignored him, and struggled on manfully. "We're really sorry about that, Harry. I didn't want you to find out that way. I don't know what those Muggles taught you, but--"

"D'you think I care that you're-- that you-- you know? I don't, if it, if you're happy. I mean, as long as it's not, you know, Snape, or something." Remus choked again. "I just wish you'd told me!" Harry said, flushing.

Sirius felt giddy relief bubble up in his chest, and he rose and pulled Harry into a tight hug, ruffling his hair with a laugh.

"James said the same thing, you know. The bit about Snape," Remus added, smiling.

Harry gave a soft, nervous huff of laughter. "So my dad and mum were okay with it?"

"It took them some getting used to, but yeah," Sirius answered. Harry didn't need to know all the details, and he still found James's lingering discomfort with the situation a little hurtful.

Remus rose from behind the desk and walked over to sit on the arm of Sirius's now-empty chair. "The wizarding world isn't any more tolerant than the Muggle, as I think you've learned for yourself, Harry, so we kept it a secret then, and haven't really told anybody now." He cocked his head and looked thoughtful. "Though I think a few people have figured it out."

"In our seventh year, I stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas for the same reason your dad stayed with your mum," Sirius said. "I wanted to be with the people I loved. That's why I'm so glad you're here, Harry. I know I missed all those years of birthdays and Christmases and summer holidays, but that's going to change," he vowed, pulling Harry close for another hug. "We're changing it right now."

Harry snuffled, and Sirius pretended not to notice, as his own eyes were stinging just a bit. He wrapped an arm around Remus's waist and pulled him into the embrace.

~*~

The party was in full swing, Remus's hand-cranked phonograph blaring Bowie (Sirius never let Remus live down the fact that he'd called Bowie a flash in the pan back in fourth year), and everyone seemed to be having a good time. They'd invited everyone who'd stayed over the holiday -- Lily had asked the Slytherins when James and Sirius refused to do it, and one or two of the younger ones had even shown up and danced with some of the Ravenclaws, but they hadn't stayed long.

Sirius had made the punch, mostly unsupervised, which was always trouble; after two cups of the spicy rum concoction, Remus had been loose enough to be pulled onto the dance floor by Lily, who'd abandoned him as soon as James flailed over, arms and legs moving in various directions, yet somehow never managing to hit the beat. It never ceased to amaze and amuse Remus how James could be so graceful on a broom and yet move like a headless chicken as soon as there was music playing.

Bowie segued into Donna Summer, and the small crowd of kids on the dance floor surged closer, bodies pressed together as they danced.

Sirius wore a garish gold crown studded with jewels that sparked in the candlelight, his cheeks flushed from exertion and too much punch. He slunk sinuously around the room, pressing up against any warm body in his vicinity, reminding Remus that dancing was just a precursor to sex, and that he'd never get to do either with Sirius, who appeared to be quite good at both.

He took another cup of punch and gulped it down, eyeing his own prospects unfavorably. Timothy Pickings, a Ravenclaw, was the only possibility, as far as Remus knew, but his breath always smelled of cabbage and his hands were rather clammy. Remus had spent the evening avoiding both Timothy and the mistletoe, unwilling to face the combination of the two.

Other than that, he was having a much better time that expected. Dumbledore had let them take over the Great Hall, despite McGonagall's protests, and the headmaster had left them unchaperoned.

"I am sure our Head Boy and Head Girl will let no harm come to anyone here on this festive Christmas Eve," he'd said before exiting, McGonagall on one arm, Sprout on the other. Remus didn't want to think of what those three might be getting up to now in the headmaster's chambers.

Remus shook his head and contemplated another cup of punch as his ears were assaulted by the sound of Abba's "Dancing Queen" ringing through the Great Hall. He shot an anguished glance over at his prized phonograph, and Lily flashed him a wicked smile before twirling off in James's arms

He stumbled out of the Great Hall, and, seeing the front doors were still open, headed outside for some air. The night was clear and cold, and fairy lights fluttered about the shrubbery, mirroring the brightly shining stars above. He looked east, as he always did on Christmas Eve -- he and his parents would sit on the roof drinking hot cocoa, eyes always drawn to the brightest star in the sky as she told the Christmas story.

Remus sighed, disgusted with the maudlin turn his thoughts were taking, and crossed his arms over his chest. Even with the amount of punch he'd had, he was starting to feel chilled.

"Oi, Lupin."

He barely suppressed a groan as Pickings came down the steps. "Happy Christmas, Timothy," Remus said politely.

"Happy Christmas to you, too." Timothy leaned close, and even under the heavy odor of punch, Remus swore he could pick out the scent of cabbage.

"Hey, Slim, what are you doing out here?"

Remus had never been so glad to hear Sirius's cheerful belligerence in his life. Sirius glided down the steps as if all the punch he'd drunk hadn't any effect on him at all, though his crown was poised at a rakish angle on his head, and his clothes were slightly askew, shirt untucked and more buttons open than there had been at the start of the evening, drawing Remus's eyes to the shadowed hollow between his collarbones.

The Ravenclaw turned to give Sirius an unfriendly look. "It's Tim."

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. I need to have a chat with Remus, so bugger off, there's a good lad."

"Remus?"

Remus tried to keep his smile from becoming a smirk, but didn't quite succeed. "Have a good night, Timothy."

Pickings stood there for a moment, as if unsure, but then took himself off back into the castle.

Remus and Sirius stared at each other for a moment, then Remus said, smiling wryly, "I can't believe I feel grateful you've just ruined my one opportunity to pull."

Sirius's full lips curled in an elegant sneer. "Pickings? You can do better."

Remus shrugged a shoulder. "Not tonight. Unless you know something I don't know."

Sirius leaned in close, his breath warm against Remus's cheek, smelling of spiced rum and a hint of lemon. "I know lots of things you don't know, Moony."

And then Sirius's strong hands were cupping his face and those oh-so-lush lips were pressing against his, warm and spicy in the cold night air. Remus was afraid to breathe, scared this might be some kind of odd joke, or perhaps just a drunken gesture of support after their conversation in Gladrags.

"Sirius?" he asked when Sirius pulled back. He licked his lips, tasting Sirius on them. "What--"

Sirius raised his eyes and Remus followed suit. A sprig of mistletoe hovered over them. "It's traditional," Sirius murmured, leaning in for another kiss, this time his tongue licking at Remus's lips. Remus didn't need coaxing; he opened his mouth eagerly, hands coming up to tangle in Sirius's hair. The first touch of Sirius's tongue against his sent a shock through his body, and then the sensations were coming too quickly for him to analyze, so he just gave himself up to the slick, wet slide of Sirius's tongue in his mouth, tasting of rum and orange and cinnamon. When they broke apart for air, the fine mist of their mingled breath wreathed Sirius's face, softening the perfect planes of it, making him look almost angelic in the moonlight. Remus had to reach out a hand, run his fingers over the arch of Sirius's cheekbones, the warm wetness of his red, kiss-swollen lips, to make sure he was actually real, and not some rum- and Christmas-induced hallucination.

"Sirius," Remus asked again, "what are you doing?"

"I told you, I've had your gift for weeks. Months. Possibly years." Sirius licked the pad of Remus's thumb when it brushed over his lips, and the shiver that ran through Remus had nothing to do with the cold. "Don't you want to go inside and unwrap me?"

"But, but you don't fancy blokes."

Sirius shrugged one shoulder diffidently. "I fancied Padraig Mulrooney in fifth year, and Kingsley Shacklebolt for a bit last term. Man's hung like a horse, Remus. You wouldn't believe it."

Remus crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. "Drooling over some other bloke's prick is not a sound wooing technique, Mr. Padfoot. I ought to take points from Gryffindor for such a maladroit seduction."

Sirius wrapped a hand around the nape of Remus's neck and pulled him closer, laughing against his lips. "I'll just have to make up for it by being spectacular in other ways."

Remus responded enthusiastically to the kiss, sucking hard on Sirius's tongue and pressing himself close to the lean length of Sirius's body.

"Come on," Sirius said roughly, "I don't fancy getting frostbite on my prick."

Remus laughed and let Sirius pull him back inside, where the sound of "Fernando" echoed through the entrance hall.

"Why Abba?" Remus asked plaintively. "I understand Donna Summer. Everyone wants to get laid, after all. But why Abba? I should go in there and confiscate the record player for that."

Sirius ignored his whinging and pressed hot little kisses along the back of his neck, slipping a hand through his hair and tugging to gain access to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. Remus bit back a moan, heat and pleasure flaring in his veins.

"Upstairs, Moony," Sirius urged. "We have mischief to accomplish. You can mock James's musical taste in the morning."

With no reluctance at all, Remus followed Sirius back to Gryffindor Tower, and spent the best evening of his life opening his gift.

~*~

On Christmas morning, Sirius woke to the feel of his cock being engulfed in tight, wet heat, and he opened his eyes to see Remus's mouth wrapped around him.

"Happy Christmas," he managed, reaching one hand down to brush Remus's graying brown fringe off his forehead.

Remus murmured something that may have been, "Happy Christmas!" in response -- Sirius couldn't tell, but the vibration made him gasp. The lazy warmth of just waking up was rapidly being replaced by the tension of desire as Remus sucked and licked and did that thing with his tongue that never failed to make Sirius moan and beg incoherently.

"Remus, please," he choked out, whole body humming with need, heat rushing in his veins. His hips bucked off the bed, and he thrust hard into Remus's mouth, but Remus didn't choke, just took him in and swallowed. Sirius had to close his eyes against the white-hot bursts of pleasure surging through him as he spilled himself down Remus's throat, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other tangling in the softness of Remus's hair.

When he was done, body weighed down by the luxurious lassitude brought on by a really good orgasm, Remus slid up beside him and kissed him.

"Still the best Christmas gift I ever got," Remus whispered, wrapping his arms around Sirius, who felt his chest tighten as he leaned in for another kiss.

He could see the picture of them from seventh year propped up on the night table, and thought wistfully of those days. He was no longer the handsome boy he'd once been, foolish enough to believe he and his friends could save the world.

"We were so young," he murmured, reaching over to pick up the photo.

"Young and naïve," Remus agreed. "Personally, I was also terrified you would find out my secrets." He nuzzled Sirius's neck, which tickled.

"I knew all your secrets, Moony."

"No, you didn't. You had no idea I was arse over teakettle for you."

Sirius laughed, remembering his own fears and secrets. "I kept sneaking into bed with you, and you ignored me. You acted as if waking up with a handsome bloke like me was an everyday occurrence."

Remus tapped the picture, in which their younger selves were now snogging on the sly. "That winter, it was."

"Yes. And you seemed oblivious. I was starting to get desperate." They'd told each other these stories a million times, at least, back when they were younger, and Sirius hadn't realized how strong the memories were until now; he hadn't been able to remember the good things in Azkaban, and even now there were some holes in his recollections. But this was clear and strong in his mind, as if it had happened yesterday. "It was so hard to be close to you like that and restrain myself from doing this." He kissed Remus, tongue slipping into his mouth. "And then you groped me. Just like this." He slid a hand down Remus's chest. "You groped me while I was sleeping. Outrageous behavior from a prefect."

"Though I didn't know it then, you were only outraged because you weren't awake to enjoy it," Remus replied, his breathing becoming ragged as Sirius stroked his belly, then let his fingers glide along the sensitive skin where Remus's thigh joined his body, loving the way Remus quivered under his touch.

"True, true. And possibly because you stopped when I did wake up."

"I was so afraid you were going to be angry."

"But I wasn't." He wrapped his fingers around Remus's cock and stroked slowly, enjoying the feel of it, hard and heavy in his hand.

"No." It was more a breath then a spoken word.

Sirius loved watching Remus come undone, loved the way his breath hitched and his hips arched off the bed as he thrust into Sirius's hand. He pressed his head back against the pillows, the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief as he strained toward orgasm, as Sirius jacked him, urging him on with soft kisses and whispered words. He came with a shuddering gasp Sirius swallowed with a kiss.

"Happy Christmas, Remus. I'm sorry I haven't a better gift for you than this."

"You're gift enough for me, Sirius. Always. I meant what I said then, and I mean it now."

That called for another lengthy session of kissing and petting. They were still acquainting themselves with the changes time had wrought on their bodies. Sirius tried not to feel guilty about the scars he didn't recognize on Remus's skin, tried not to think about how his own gaunt form must look and feel to Remus. He avoided mirrors, preferring to see himself in Remus's eyes, still so full of love when Remus looked at him.

Remus was drifting off to sleep again, but Sirius nudged him. "It's Christmas morning, you tosser. How can you possibly want to sleep?"

"Hmph. It's still early, Sirius. Nobody will miss us if we have a lie-in."

"Harry will. And Molly will." Sirius was surprised at how much he wanted to go downstairs and have breakfast with everyone, even Molly. "I'm glad Harry finally knows."

"Yes. He took it surprisingly well, all things considered."

Sirius laughed. "He's such a good kid. I'm so happy he's here. This is the first Christmas we'll have with him since he was in nappies. Hell, I'm glad the Weasleys are here, too, especially since Arthur's going to be all right. I think Tonks will be by after, and maybe she'll stay for dinner. I'm sure Molly's going to cook up a right feast." He bounced out of bed. "I had Dung bring over some rum, and I'm going to make punch for after dinner. Maybe we can drag out your phonograph and have some music. What do you think?"

"I think it sounds great." Remus beamed at him, and Sirius couldn't help but smile back.

"Merlin. I can't believe how excited I am over Christmas dinner." It felt good to be excited about something, to have something to look forward to, even if it was something as simple as dinner with the people he cared about.

"It always was your favorite holiday."

"Well, yes, but--" he gestured at the picture of them, which now lay in the rumpled sheets. "I'm not the same man I was then."

"None of us are," Remus said softly, rising and wrapping his arms around Sirius's waist. Sirius relaxed against him for a moment, just enjoying the way their bodies fit together. When he pulled away, they began getting ready for the day. Sirius sang carols the whole time, with Remus throwing pillows at him whenever he substituted naughty lyrics for the correct words.

Remus stopped him before they left the room. "I know I said I didn't have a gift--"

"I don't care about that, Remus. I--"

"Shut up a minute, would you?" Remus interrupted, laughing. He held out a battered old spiral-bound notebook, the pages warped and browning, and the cover half torn off. "I found this in another box--at the flat. I thought you might like to have it."

Sirius took it and flipped through the pages, all the information on how they'd made the motorbike fly. He swallowed hard at the notes in James's sprawling handwriting and the swooping curves of Lily's script in the margins, but even that couldn't dampen his excitement. "We have to show Harry. Come on!"

Remus laughed again. "Maybe you haven't changed so much, after all."

Molly was bustling about making breakfast when they arrived in the kitchen. Sirius sat down next to Harry and Ron and pulled out the notebook.

"Remus found this in another one of his many boxes," he said softly, placing it on the table. Remus sat down on his other side, and Sirius smiled at him affectionately before turning back to the boys. "In it is everything we learned about making a motorbike fly." He glanced around, but Molly was occupied with the frying pan and Hermione was pelting Bill with questions about solstice customs in ancient Egypt. Ron and Harry leaned in close, and Fred and George looked interested as well.

"Is it true my mum and dad helped?" Harry asked around a forkful of eggs.

"They certainly did," Remus said before Sirius could reply. "Though Sirius likes to take all the credit."

"I did most of the work!"

"That is true," Remus said, "but Lily was the one who finally figured out the right combination of charms to make it fly."

Ron shot a worried look at his mum, then said, "Isn't that illegal?"

"Oh, yeah," Sirius answered, wondering if Hermione's caution was finally having an effect on the boys, "but it was worth it. Harry told me about your flying car. Just remember how cool that was, and multiply it by a million."

"Wow," Ron breathed. Both boys' eyes were wide, and the twins wore matching grins. Sirius had to swallow hard, thinking about how Harry had lost his father, and Ron had almost lost his. He was going to do whatever was needed to protect them.

Under the table, he squeezed Remus's hand, and said, "I'll have Moony here start looking around for a good, used motorbike, and maybe this summer we can work on it together." He tapped the notebook meaningfully.

Harry and Ron grinned, and he knew he'd found willing co-conspirators.

The conversation broadened after that, as Molly sat down at the table and said, "Happy Christmas, everyone. Thank you, again, Harry, for what you've done for us, and thank you, Sirius, for allowing us to stay. I don't know what we'd have done without you both."

"You and your family are welcome here at any time, Molly," he answered, and he found that, despite their past differences, he meant every word. The kitchen rang with laughter as they ate, in a way Sirius couldn't recall ever hearing as a child, and he thought this was a good way to begin again, with Harry and Remus, the Weasleys and Hermione, as his true family, celebrating his favorite holiday.

Maybe Remus was right. Maybe he wasn't so different after all.

end

~*~

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