Love - A Wolfstar Story

December 25th

Before James, Christmas was a dreaded holiday, full of judgmental relatives and disapproving looks. Each year the house looked the same. No decorated tree. No silver tinsel hanging around the house. No mistletoe placed in meticulous spots, hoping to catch someone off guard. No color. In the Black household, Christmas was simply about elegance. The most decoration we had was an evergreen tree and a nice flower centerpiece on the dining table. Of course, Christmas dinner was high-end food in small serving portions, where everything sounded either foreign or inedible. The conversation held by most of the relatives had been about a recent marriage they disapproved of, or questions on who would make the most eligible pureblood girlfriend to marry the nephews off to.

Yet, Christmas at the Potters was different than anything I'd ever experienced. The first year I spent Christmas with James, I had been bewildered by bright colors and decently-sized food. I had been astonished by how James's family joked with each other: his dad throwing flour at us while baking, James hugging his mom from behind on random occasions, James jumping on my back and ordering me around the house. Everything about it felt like home. One I had never experienced before. Ever since then I'd stayed at James' for Christmas, and until eventually I moved in. And they had treated me like their second son, no different to James.

"REMUS IT'S CHRISTMAS!" James yelled across the hall, followed by a small thud. I pulled a Quidditch jumper over my head and peeked out of my room. Sure enough, James was lying on the floor while a blanket lay over Remus' head. If only the teachers at Hogwarts knew this was what we, as the Marauders, had to put up with every morning to get him to class. They would have much more respect for us.

"James, mate, it's only 8 am. I don't know what you expect from him," I said, a small smile forming on my face.

"But it's Christmas," James said, throwing his hands up in the air. For James, Christmas seemed to be the center of his universe-- the one day to look forward to throughout the year. He loved the rush of giving people gifts and seeing their faces as they opened it. He loved the small gatherings that his parents threw where he got to talk to random, yet important, adults about random, yet important, things. He loved turning the lights on the tree, like a muggle, and shouting "TAH DAH" as if it was his best trick yet. Christmas was James' holiday.

"It's also eight AM," I said, patting James on the shoulder. He frowned at me, looking quite pathetic as he was sprawled on the floor. I couldn't blame him. James had woken up Remus plenty of times, but he didn't know the true way to wake him up.

I put my hand on Remus's shoulder, shaking it slightly. Whatever response I was hoping for didn't come, because all he did was hit my hand off of him.

Great start.

"There's coffee on the table. You get up in two minutes to get it or I throw it out and you get none." I said, my voice still higher than usual and sweet-sounding. Remus groaned as he sat up and stretched out his arms. Tan skin and muscles all moved slowly as he did. I took a sharp breath in and turned away from him, much to my eye's dismay. Not now. Not ever.

Without saying a word, Remus hopped out of bed and walked toward the kitchen, stepping over James who was still lying on the floor. He looked at me as if I had just conjured a hippogriff out of thin air.

"Why is he sweeter to you?" James complained.

"He still hit me!"

"He hit me too." James pushed himself off the ground, "And shoved me."

"Oh, boo-hoo."

James rolled his eyes at me and pushed himself off the floor, following Remus into the kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table was Euphemia, who seemed to already be in deep conversation with Remus. I sighed, letting my eyes look toward him and his hair. And his messy PJs. And his freckles.