You Make Me Live (Remus Lupin x Reader One-Shots)

I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday

(It's currently 4 am which is no excuse if this is terrible but it's at least an explanation. Will proof it in the morning because I seem to have forgotten how to type. Goodnight. Enjoy. Garry Crimble. No spice except for the last paragraph. Also this feels so short now what the heck-)

When I Apparated to the front gate of our cottage, I was met with a lovely sight: the bushes under the front windows had been decorated with lit candles suspended in floating orbs, like bubbles. It was Remus' solution to the fairies' aversion to the cold weather without, and the fact that every time we Apparated or Disapparated, our Muggle fairy lights either burnt out or burst into flames. It was early December, I couldn't recall the exact date. It couldn't be later than the second or third, could it? I wasn't sure, I'd been buried in days-old paperwork after taking some sick leave and had completely lost track of time. So, on top of everything else, I was also two hours late getting home. I had easily missed dinner, and if I didn't hurry inside I would miss the chance to tuck in my son at bedtime, and have to resort to a quick and quiet forehead kiss while he slept. So I didn't take much time to admire my husband's handiwork, though it was brilliant and I felt a pang when I realized I had missed the chance to see him do it myself. I was grateful that I would have the rest of our family traditions to partake in in the weeks to come, like baking the first batch of my grandmother's Christmas cookies and our very particular way of decorating the house.

I stepped inside and was met with the smell of roasted meat, vanilla, and Christmas spices. The living room to my right was warmly lit, but I was still hanging up my woolen cloak and scarf and gloves that the Scottish coast demanded in December, now wet with misty rain. I was met by a familiar figure in a white cable knit jumper, my favorite one to steal, who greeted me with a kiss, holding me close and craning his neck to press his forehead to mine.

"How was your day?" he asked against my lips before drinking in another of my contented sighs.

"A little hectic. I'm sort of frazzled, sorry. Hi."

He chuckled, his scars catching in the laugh lines on his beautiful face. "That's alright. Hi." He gently gripped and massaged the back and side of my neck, stroking my ear and jaw and cheek with is thumb as he kissed me again. Breaking away, he continued to brush his thumb against my cheek as I spoke.

"The garden looks beautiful. I'm sorry I missed it."

"That's alright, Reg and I had it well in hand."

"Reg and -" It was then that I finally looked around at the house. It looked cozy and festive and perfect, the plaster walls were decorated with paper stars and snowflakes in every color and pattern, gold and green garlands adorned with lounging fairies hung over every doorway. The little wooden nativity set was on the mantel, with three stockings over the blazing fire. The radio in the kitchen was blaring "My Baby Got Me A Hippogriff For Christmas" and when I looked over our heads I found the reason for Remus' onslaught of kisses - mistletoe, not that I minded. "You've decorated."

"Well, it's the sixth. And you said you'd be really busy this week, so we thought we'd get a jump on things, surprise you."

"D'you like it, Mum?" asked a small, excited voice from the kitchen doorway. "We tried to do it just like every year. I even saved some of my stars." He was always so solemn about his stars. I fought back tears and forced a bright smile, but I could tell Remus saw right through me.

"It's perfect, sweetheart. Thank you so much."

"What's wrong? You seem sad."

"No, it's alright. It's just - I wish I could have been here to do it with you. That I wasn't so busy, that's all."

"It's okay, Mum. We can take care of things."

"I know, and you do such a beautiful job."

"Reg," said Remus, "Can you keep an eye on the hot chocolate for me? Don't play with it or touch it, just let me know if it starts to boil."