All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Third Year : Andromeda

Christmas Day, 1973

There were no more conversations about girls the next morning—the marauders were too busy opening their presents. The living room became a massacre of wrapping paper and bows, gutted boxes and empty bags. The Potters had outdone themselves; even Philomena perked up when she saw presents with her name under the tree, although her eyes still looked a little misty.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter were delighted with Sirius’s gifts—Euphemia cooed over the brooch and called him a “dear boy,” which made Sirius feel bashful and happy and like he had a lump in his throat, all at once. He received a wealth of snacks and practical jokes from his friends and a lovely set of enchanted quills from the Potters, who insisted that he write any time and treat James’s owl as his own.

“He already does, mum, believe me,” James said around a mouthful of biscuits. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs, and he laughed.

After opening his gift from the Potters, Sirius began to search through the remaining presents for Andromeda’s loopy scrawl. He knew that she’d been awfully busy with the new baby, but still, she’d never missed a Christmas before...

As the final gifts were unwrapped, leaving only crumpled paper, his heart sank—there was nothing from his cousin. Sirius knew he shouldn’t be upset with Andromeda, but he couldn’t stop the wash of loneliness. He’d sent her a card; since she’d been kicked out, he’d been her only family. This Christmas, he’d thought she would be his.

But apparently, no one in his family cared about him—not even his favourite cousin.

He tried to stifle his dark mood, knowing that he should be grateful and happy, surrounded by friends. Still, James seemed to pick up on the fact that there was something wrong.

“S’up wif yoo?” He asked, speaking once more with his mouth full—this time around a bite of scrambled eggs.

Sirius shrugged. “Nothing from Andromeda,” he said, poking at his own breakfast unenthusiastically. “I didn’t think I’d get presents or anything, now she’s got the baby, but I thought maybe a card...I sent her one.”

James swallowed, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Owl might just be flying late – you know how the post is this time of year.”

Sirius mustered up a smile, trying to feel reassured. James was probably right—it wasn’t as if Andromeda had forgotten him, or stopped caring about him. She was his family.

(Didn’t stop the rest of your family from forgetting you, though, did it? Whispered a small, mean voice in the back of his mind—a voice that sounded very much like his own. Sirius shook it off—he was determined not to let himself ruin the holiday. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up moping around as much as Philomena!)

The minute that breakfast was done, all three boys headed outside to test James’s brand-new broom. Sirius had brought his own broom with him, and Mr. Potter offered Remus James’s old one.

“Yeah, have it if you want, Moony!” James nodded eagerly, “To keep!”

“Thanks...” Remus said, not looking very enthusiastic at all as he accepted the gift. He held the broomstick gingerly, as if he was worried that it might bite him.