The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

Christmas at the Potter's

Christmas at the Potters

Christmas was a very serious affair at the Potter's. Charlus put a charm on the ceiling of the living room to make it extendable and they dragged in the biggest tree that Sirius had ever seen. The decorating of the Christmas tree was a full family event, complete with Celestina Warbucks playing over the radio at top volume and mugs full of steaming hot cider that Mrs. Potter had kept bubbling on the stove all day, filling the little house with the smell of cinnamon and cardamon. Sirius was dazzled by the star shaped lights that Charlus guided onto the branches of the tree with his wand - long strands of twinkle lights that flickered just like real stars.

They ate caramel covered popcorn and peppermint lollies and fresh orange slices. "Those came all the way from the cousins in Costa Rica," said Charlus, grinning as he spun his wand around one of the largest oranges that Sirius had ever seen.

"Costa Rica, wow," murmured Sirius, running his fingers over the dimpled skin of his orange and relishing the way it smelled when his fingernails scraped the very edge of it. He pressed his nose against it. The only thing more spectacular was the way the juice tasted as he bit into the pulpy flesh of the orange. "I would like to go to Costa Rica one day," he said wistfully.

"It's lovely," Charlus replied, "Very warm."

That night, James and Sirius sat up in James's bedroom on the bed, facing one another, sharing a chocolate bar that James had hidden in his desk drawer. He ripped the wrapper open and split the bar in half, giving one to Sirius. They made plans for exploring the other passages on the list they'd found in the Trophy Room passage and chatted about Remus and the scars that were still pink across Sirius's forearm.

"What do we do if Peter decides to tell after all?" James asked as he chewed the last of his chocolate.

Sirius sighed, "Dunno... I wouldn't really kill him. I don't think. I dunno."

James shook his head, sweeping a bit of fallen truffle cream from his chin. "Nawh, you wouldn't. You're too good."

"Depends what he'd done, I s'pose," Sirius said with a shrug. "Sometimes the good have to do bad things to be good, don't they?"

"Dunno," James replied, "Is it ever good to kill?"

"What about Voldemort?" Sirius asked, "Wouldn't killing him be good?"

James shrugged. "Dunno. It's hard to say. Part of me says it would be. But another part says killin' is killin' the same whoever it is that's done the killin' and who's been killed. Isn't it? A life still ends."

"But if it's a bad life endin'..."

"Who's the one who can judge good and bad?" James asked.

Sirius considered, "Morals. Laws."

James shrugged, "They're made by feeble wizards the same as you and me, aren't they? Sometimes the law is wrong. Sometimes things that are illegal are morally right."

Sirius took a deep breath and folded the wrapper about the rest of his chocolate, too full to finish it. "What a conversation for Christmas eve!" he exclaimed.

James laughed, "Yeah. I s'pose we ought to be talking about something more cheerful."

"I reckon so," Sirius agreed with a chuckle.

James leaned back so he was against the headboard of the bed, his feet crossed at the ankle. His too-short pyjamas were covered with snitches, his socks mismated, one covered with owls, the other stripes of gold and red. He folded his arms up behind his head and said, 'Ah, Sirius, you're going to love it - tomorrow, I mean. Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. Mum makes the most wonderful feasts. And there's always loads of presents."