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Chapter Text

[Saturday, 4th of December]

After 2 days of recovery in the hospital wing, Remus thanks Madam Pomfrey before ducking away with a strained grimace smile and a half wave. He swiftly leaves, power walking to the Great Hall so that he isn’t too late. He can practically feel the hundreds of eyes boring into him now, forcing him to lengthen his strides.

Once he reaches the large doors, his lungs win out and he hunches over to regain his breath. Adjusting his floppy fringe, he heads into the Great Hall for dinner.

Reflected from the ceiling of the Great Hall, the cloudless night sky and waning moon look down on Remus as he manoeuvres around the dozens of round tables filling the Hall. Seating 14 people, some of the round mahogany tables float in the air with only a slim marble slab beneath them for safety.

Candles float to keep the Hall alight (though if you ask Remus it’s quite inefficient) and pupils chatter amicably to one another. Amongst the cacophony of light and sound, he hurries to his friends and (hopefully) his reserved seat.

He sits next to Sirius on his left and Lily on his right, with the latter beaming at seeing Remus next to her rather than the other boy. The girl sitting next to Lily nudges her in her side, and she sheepishly turns back to her to resume their conversation. James and Peter didn’t seem to notice Remus’ arrival at all, as they also continued chatting away — about what colour underclothes the teachers would wear. Sirius leans close to whisper,

“Good moon?”, and Remus’ pinched expression must have been answer enough. Of course he didn’t have a ‘good moon’, the moons are never good, what is he on about? Sirius seems to realise that he’s crossed a line, as he half-shrugs before making the addition that ‘Sluggy’ would wear ‘great big bloomers’ and Remus is sat in silence with no one sensible enough to talk to.

Dumbledore gets the attention of everyone — simply by standing — before announcing that,

“As a treat for the students during these winter holidays, we are bringing back the old tradition from the Founders!”

A small murmur arose, mostly from the intellectuals who have actually read ‘Hogwarts, a History’ (read: Lily Evans and Remus Lupin). James, Peter and Sirius continue whispering like the tools they are.

“Celebrations such as Yule, a prominent tradition in wizarding society,” Remus turns to look at Sirius, who seems to have had the same thought process, as he mimes dying a gruesome death (the cause being boredom, of course). Remus tunes back into the speech, as Dumbledore has moved onto a different topic:

“And Christmas, a more muggle holiday. Interestingly enough, this particular tradition melds the two celebrations together, as they both include gift giving. Now, I think I’ve gone on long enough! Let’s hear from Professor McGonagall about what the festivities will entail.”

Dumbledore turns to face Professor McGonagall as she stiffly walks up to continue.

“Thank you, Albus. As Headmaster Dumbledore has recounted, these holidays are especially important to us as wizards. The event that we will be hosting this year will be a testament to the Founders of Hogwarts, the details of which are about the act of secretive gift-giving to one another.”

Lily exclaims that “It’s like a Secret Santa!” right into Remus’ sensitive ears.

“Not only will this result in presents for every student that participates, but it will strengthen interhouse community—” Professor McGonagall is cut off by the excessive mutterings of the students with Sirius and the others joining in. Professor McGonagall gives a cursory glance around the room, enacting complete silence, before carrying on.

“Yes. The gift-giving will be across houses. Anyone willing to participate shall be submitting a piece of parchment with their full name, house and year into the Goblet of Fire —” At this, the Hall is a flurry of chatter and exclamations. 

Dumbledore takes matters into his own hands, literally, waving them about — with his robes flapping about his arms in the process. The flames of the hovering candles become towers of fire, then shifting to form a blazing phoenix above the centre of the Hall. The entire school body pauses, observing the stunning display of complex, wandless magic. Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle as he returns to his speech:

“Yes, yes, as we know, the Goblet of Fire has been used for the Triwizard Tournament — though this was not the original use!” Dumbledore appraises the room over his half-moon spectacles.

“The Founders created the first Goblet of Fire, in order to maintain secrecy and fairness by randomly picking out who gifts whom. As the tradition gained popularity, the Goblet evolved into specifically picking out names of the people best suited to one another. Therefore, it is advised against swapping names with another student, though it is not against the rules.”

“Now, the deadline to submit your present to the house elves, who will bring your present to your giftee, is the 23rd. Of course, anytime between the 20th and 23rd is fine, with a sack to deposit the gift being presented outside the main Hall.”

His gaze turns colder as he states that “Anyone who does not gift their giftee will be punished with a loss of 50 house points and a week of detention.” Dumbledore then picks up his calm approach to assure that:

“Since the students going away for winter holidays leave on the 22nd, it is acceptable for them to drop their present off early or mail with owl.”

Dumbledore’s next words are drowned out by a nearby student’s coughing fit, capturing Remus’ attention and stopping him from hearing (most likely important) extra information. It’s times like these that he wishes his hearing was normal.

The student ceases their premature death, letting Dumbledore’s words back in: 

“The cup will be placed in the Hall from Sunday to Friday so that pupils can deliver their parchment. Next Saturday, all day, students can approach the Goblet of Fire to see who they will be gifting.”

Dumbledore lifts his arms to conclude: “I won’t hold us back from this feast any longer, let us enjoy!”

The tables respond to Dumbledore’s finishing statement, loaded with plates of the students’ choice of meal. James, Peter, Remus and Sirius tuck in and wolf down all of their supper and dessert like ravenous beasts.

After dinner concludes, Prefect Agnes accompanies the Gryffindor first-years to Gryffindor Tower.

[Sunday, 5th of December]

First thing on Sunday, (more like at the very end of breakfast) James, Peter, Remus and Sirius deliver their notes containing their names. Remus’ note (written that morning in the dormitories), clutched tightly in his hand, is splotched with ink as his inkpot is running out.

The four stand in front of the Goblet of Fire, which is mounted directly in front of the teachers’ table. James and Sirius go first, dropping their names into the blue flames. Peter follows and Remus watches as he lets his own name be submitted into the fire.

Remotely, Remus thinks that they'll be insufferable all week. At least it takes the pressure off him.

The following weekend [Saturday, 11th of December]

After a week of non-stop chatter surrounding the gift giving, Remus willingly goes (read: is bodily dragged) to the main Hall, where they’ll get the names of the people they'll be gifting. 

They are evidently some of the last people to get there, even though it’s only noon. A few students are milling about, munching on jam covered toast.

They march towards the Goblet of Fire, and it spits out 4 pieces of parchment. Remus grabs his to reveal, in fancy calligraphy: Gryffindor First Year, Sirius Orion Black.

Remus sighs, before re-reading the paper in case he (somehow) read it wrong. No such luck.

James, Peter and Sirius tell each other immediately, with Peter’s downtrodden mumble of “Mimbley Fletcher”, and James’ triumphant glee about the pranking possibilities against Lucius Malfoy.

Sirius bounds up to Remus (like a dog) and shoves his paper into Remus’ face “You’re lucky I’ve got you. Don’t think anyone else would be able to read your writing.”

Remus flinches, swatting away the scrap of parchment, a scowl etched on his face. “This was supposed to be secret . Do you half-wits understand that? SECRET.”

No one listens to his persistent pleas, instead badgering him about who he got.

Remus was right. Pretty insufferable.

Chapter Text

“Can you wait for me in the common room?”

Lily shakes her head fondly. Marlene always finds a way to stop herself from being early. She calls out a “Sure thing”, before walking out of the first year dormitories, closing the door behind her.

Lily sees Alice out of the corner of her eye and gives a short wave with a smile before walking down the stairs to the common room, with the steady increase of volume swelling the further she descends. At the base of the stairwell, the common room that greets her is fuller than usual.

On her left, a group is congregating nearby next to the fireplace. The Scottish winter’s frigid temperatures make it mandatory to wear (at least) gloves and a hat. Lily’s already set, with her coat pockets holding her hand-made woollen mittens and a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around her neck. Although, she is rather regretting putting on her wintry clothes inside, as the faded warmth from the fire still heats her — even with her standing a couple of metres away.

Looking away from the fire, she glances at the rug connecting the base of the stairway to the portrait hole. The golden tassels of the fiery rug always fascinated her, and she hopes one day that she’ll be able to look at all the magic that makes it so clean all the time (seriously, how has it managed to retain all it’s colour whilst being trodden on by those miscreants caked in mud? Is it the house elves? Oh, she hopes not. Those poor things don’t deserve that sort of treatment…)

A shriek to her right yanks her out of her thoughts. A group of 3rd years are playing gob stones, with ink squirting into the face of one girl. The rest laugh as she wipes it off with her sleeve. Lily scrunches her nose in distaste.

She moves to sit on an old armchair at the back of the common room, with an easy surveyance point for being nosy. The cosy brown leather envelops her as she looks around. She sighs, he isn’t here. A shame, though possibly a blessing in disguise if those other boys are still hanging onto him.

More shouts burst from the gob stone game, as a pungent smell wafts from a particularly bad play. She pinches her nose shut to stop the offensive smell from pervading her good mood. The third years — thankfully — decide to pack away the game, and a seventh year manages to cast a nice-smelling spell to ward off the stench. She’d better ask around, it would definitely come in handy for whatever those hooligans have in store for the school next.

Lily looks back to the fire crackling in the fireplace, and debates on whether or not to pull out the book she’s been reading lately, the one with the hobbit. Though she doesn’t think about it for long, as Marlene spots her from the top of the stairs and waves. Lily stands up to speak to her at the bottom of the stairs.

“About time! I was beginning to get bored.”

“Alright, hold your horses. I wasn’t even that long! I was only —” she pulls Lily’s wrist towards her, reading the time as quarter to eight.

“5 minutes late,” she lifts her head up to face Lily, “See? Not that bad.”

Lily rolls her eyes. “O-kay, well, are we going to breakfast or not?”

Marlene extends her arms and begins pushing Lily out of the portrait in retaliation.

Lily laughs, “I’m going, I’m going!” and they exit.

As they make their way to the Hall, Lily gets ample enough time to continue her speech on why being early is important. Her argument is delightfully proven when the stairs decide to take them on a scenic route, costing time. Lily smirks the entire time.

When they finally get to the Great Hall, it is a whopping five past eight.

“It’s really not that late!”

“Yes, well, it isn’t early is it?” Lily waves her watch around to prove her point.

“What’s with you and your obsession with earliness?”

“Earliness isn’t a word.”

Marlene’s (most likely lacklustre) retort is put on hold, as they enter the Great Hall.

Navigating through the packed Great Hall, they situate themselves at one of the Gryffindor tables, where Lily eats — listening to the chatter around her as well as Marlene’s thoughts about the Secret Santa and how she hopes to get someone she knows.

Dumbledore stands up, causing conversations to dissipate like smoke. He brings his wand up, twirls it and flicks to present the Goblet of Fire appearing at the front of the teachers’ table.

Standing tall, around a metre, with blue flames billowing out. The fire then turns into a dark purple, then a hot pink before finalising on a bright red, which erupts — paper flying everywhere. A piece of paper rests in Lily’s lap, and she picks it up.

Lily inspects the slip, which reads “Dorcas Meadowes, First Year, Slytherin”. She turns to Marlene to see who she got, though after pulling the paper from her face, Marlene’s face twists in distaste.

“Hey, uh…Could we switch?”

By the look on her face, Lily doesn’t even want to imagine the type of person she got. What if it’s Sirius Black? Or worse— Potter.

“Switch? But Dumbledore said we shouldn’t!”

“Well he didn’t say we couldn’t.”

“Ugh! Fine, but I bet the person you have isn’t even that bad.” Lily huffs as she reaches for Marlene's parchment. She now reads her new giftee to see “Severus Snape, First year, Slytherin.” and her face sours. Severus isn’t bad at all! This is all because of that Sirius Black and James Potter with their ridiculous ‘pranks’. Lily takes a deep breath before facing Marlene, who seems to be deep in thought.

“Meadowes, Meadowes… Now where have I heard that name before?”

Lily rolls her eyes, so they’re just going to pretend that the swap didn’t even happen?

“She’s probably in our potions. It's today’s first lesson anyhow.”

“Oh, right. Well, I guess I’ll try and talk to her then.”

“Yep.” Lily mutters before finishing her breakfast.

With a full stomach, Lily hauls her bag over her shoulder before heading to the dungeons with Marlene. On the way out of the Great Hall, they see James Potter and Sirius Black rushing in, ties undone and their hair a scruffy mess. When seeing their anxious expressions, Lily’s eyes dance with self-righteousness. Serves them right.

Their journey to potions is, thankfully, uneventful. Arriving early, she walks over and waits at their shared desk. Severus is already there, looking through his mother’s thick tome of advanced potion-making. 

“Sev” she calls. No reply. If it were anyone else, she would think that they didn’t hear her, but she knows better. Not bothering to waste time, she jostles the table by placing her bag on it, making him startle and glare at her.

“You should be careful, Lily. Some of the ingredients are quite fragile.”

“Well, next time answer back instead of ignoring me. Quite rude , y’know.” She exaggerates her words, so he knows she isn’t serious. He sighs, delicately placing his makeshift bookmark in place before slowly closing the book and settling it in his trunk. He turns to her, waving one hand to gesture to himself.

“Well, I’m all ears.”

She scuttles close to him, close enough so that he can hear her excited whisper of “Are you going to tell me who you have for secret Santa?”

Sev folds his arms across his chest, head facing away from her “Absolutely not.”

“Why? Why not? I am your friend, right?”

“Yes, well, I think you could read a dictionary. You see, the definition of ‘secret’ is basically that a secret isn’t common knowledge. So, it wouldn’t be secret Santa if I told you.”

“Yes but if you tell me, not the person you’re gifting, then it would still be secret, wouldn’t it?” Her eyes brighten “Unless, of course, you have me!”

Sev swivels to look at her in alarm, “Of course I don’t!”

“Do!”

“I do not!”

“I think you do!” She cheekily grins. Lily has an older sister — she can play this game.

“Curse you, Evans.” he mutters.

She shrugs. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I have you, y’know” 

Sev gives her a look. “Don’t lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying!” She takes out the parchment with Sev’s name on to show him as proof.

“Oh” he says, dumbly. Lily rolls her eyes with a smile before edging closer to him.

“See? I wouldn’t lie to you, Sev. Now show me your slip!”

“Oh, what’s the point?” he grumbles as he whips out the folded piece of lined paper with Lily’s name on.

Her eyes fill with mirth as a grin spreads out across her face.

“Oh, I knew it!”

“Yes, yes, well done. Everyone give three cheers.” Drawls Severus.

Lily shoves him, “Shut up, you.” She then considers him for a moment, before suggesting that “We should go to the workshop thing together!”

Sev narrows his eyes, “But then we’ll see what gifts we’ll get?”

Lily hums. She hadn’t thought that part through, yet.

“Yes, well… You could just look away?” She winces with a smile, tilting her head a little as she used to whenever she’d convince Tuney to do something for her.

Severus sighs, looking decidedly at their shared cauldron, “You’re not going to leave me alone otherwise, are you?” He gives her a pointed look. She answers with a small, abashed smile.

He scratches his neck, “Well, er, are your other friends coming along?”

She hadn’t gotten to them yet, “No, why?”

Severus brightens with relief, though obviously trying to control his face, “No reason.”

Lily notices, but doesn’t say anything. It isn’t his fault that her other friends treat him like an outsider. Professor Slughorn walks in, starting the lesson — effectively ending their conversation.

She just wished her friends could realise what a good person Sev is.

Chapter Text

The excitement of the upcoming secretive gift-giving ceremony spreads throughout the houses within the following days. For Sirius and James, the opportunities are all-too-tempting. After a long day of lessons (which were a breeze, of course) they scurry back to the Gryffindor first-year dormitories. Dodging the stray sock or any other unidentifiable articles of clothing, the pair launch themselves onto James' bed. Scrounging around, the two shuffle trying to find a good perch. After a good few seconds squirming they manage to achieve an almost comfortable position and tug off most of their ties and robes. The drawn curtains rest on their still-trousered legs, hanging off the right side of the bed, as per request of Sirius' nose. Within the den of mischief, Sirius turns to James and asks a very Sirius question. 

“Would you rather have 10 thumbs or no eyes?”

James swivels to look at him quizzically. “10 thumbs? How would that even work? Are they going down your wrist?”

“No, they replace your fingers.”

“Are they at least finger sized?”

“Yes, they’re like thumbs in the place of your fingers, but the same size.”

“Can I get rid of them?”

“No, magic won’t work. You’d have to remove them muggle-style.”

Behind his glasses, James’ eyes squint. “Muggle-style?”

“Well, my mother says that muggles cut off the arms and legs of misbehaving delinquents! You’d have to do that to your thumbs!” Sirius waggles his hand to James’ face, showing off his still-there thumbs.

James pushes it away. “What! That can’t be true.”

Sirius shrugs, "Well, in this scenario it is. If you want to get rid of your extra thumbs in place of fingers, you’d have to cut them off!” His eyes widen as he continues, “No severing charm would do, either! You would have to use a knife.”

James recoils, “No! That’s so gross. And why would I do that anyway? If I did that, would my fingers grow back?”

“No… but at least you wouldn’t have weird thumb hands. Oh, and also, you wouldn’t be able to use a glamour charm to hide them.”

James throws his normal-fingered hands in the air. “What! This is so unfair.”

Opening the curtains in front of them, Peter butts in. “What are you two talking about?”

They look at each other for a moment, before Sirius grins. “I’d rather have the thumbs. At least my thumbs look nice. You have weird pokey thumbs.”

James sits up in defiance. “I do not! And, after what you’ve just told me, I’d rather take the no eyes, thanks!”

Sirius twists to lie on his back with his hands behind his head, so he doesn’t have to look at the new addition of the conversation, nose in the air. “Like there would be a difference.”

James launched himself at Sirius with a battle cry and they went tumbling off the bed. Rolling around on the floor like animals, each trying to get the upper hand. After 5 minutes, they had knocked into James’ bed, Sirius’ wardrobe and even knocked books off Remus’ nightstand. ‘Remus is not going to be happy’ Sirius distantly thought, but continued trying to pin James anyway. Alas, it was not to be as James has won and currently crushing Sirius’ chest. 

Peter tries to join back in, “I think I’d have the thumbs”.

Sirius tries to shove James off him one last time. “Alright, no one asked” he scoffs.

James peers down at him curiously. “You just did?” He relents his triumphant attack to move to the side of the bed. “Doesn’t matter. We have more important things to worry about, such as…”

The room is stiflingly quiet, with the only sound being Sirius shuffling to move the hindrance of the curtains aside to sit up at the edge of the bed, facing the door. Sirius’ cue is not taken.

“C’mon! It wasn’t even a week ago!”

Peter perks up “Oh! Is this about Lucius Malfoy?”

“Thank you, Pete. The only one who ever listens to me.”

Sirius scowls, irked. “I do listen, I’m just not a suck-up like Peter.”

“Not to me, you aren’t. But I doubt Minnie would say the same.”

Sirius prickles up in offence as he swivels round to bark, “You don’t get to call her that!”.

James shows his hands in a placating manner, “Right, right, alright.” He puffs himself up and straightens his posture before focussing. “Let’s get back to business, gentlemen: The prank!”

Eyes bulging, Peter shrinks into himself. “Are we seriously pranking Lucius Malfoy? I thought you were joking!”

Sirius rolls his eyes back to the door, with his head following.

“I’d call you a scaredy cat, but that would be an insult to Minnie.”

“But we’d for sure get caught! It’s way too dangerous.”

“You’re such a wet blanket, Pete.” Sirius huffs.

“Enough! We need to work together if we’re going to get pranking! Come on, men! Focus!”

Sirius leans back onto his elbows, still facing the door, “So, what are we even doing? Dung bombs? I think he’d know we’re up to something.”

James leans forward and points at Sirius. “Exactly, which is why we’d need to be sneaky about it! Give him something he won’t suspect.”

Sirius leans further back, tipping his head back to look at James. “But he knows we hate the Slytherins; It wouldn’t work.” He closes his eyes.

James folds his arms as his eyes narrow onto Sirius. “Then we’ll just have to hold off on any other pranks in progress.”

Sirius’ eyes fly open as he flips over, “WHAT?! Hold off? At yule! The time for celebrations! Have you gone mad? You finally lost the plot, Potter?”

“Untwist your knickers, Black, it’s only for a short while. Anyways, it would be worth it!”

“Only if we get to mess with his hair.” Sirius’ mouth lifts up into a smirk. “He’d hate someone messing with his hair. After all, he is a Malfoy ” Sirius drags out the name, the insult .

They all hear the door creak, as Remus steps into the room and looks up. “Oh, what are you planning now? Actually, wait. Don’t tell me. I think I’d rather not know. I can plead ignorant, then.” 

James sends out a sarcastic laugh “Cheers, mate.” and Sirius stands, looking pensive.

“Well, actually, I do have something to tell you.” 

Remus’ mouth turns into a grim line while James and Peter stare in confusion (well, James does. The sheep, Peter, looks between everyone to see who he should follow). 

Remus’ mouth scrunches as he concedes, “Alright, then. Do your worst.”

Sirius switches back to James and Peter. “You heard him. Out.” He points to the still-open door.

James splutters: “What?! You can’t make us leave our own dorm! And Remus didn’t say anything about us leaving!”

Sirius strides towards James with his arms out in front of him. James’ eyes widen as he shrieks, but it’s too late. Remus looks on from the side-lines, a constant bystander, as Sirius tickles James until he weeps.

When James seemingly starts to suffocate, Remus steps in. “Alright, I think he’s had enough.”

Sirius’ attack lets up, “You’re no fun, Lupin.”

James, after recovering, glares at Sirius, “I’m going to the owlery. Going to get my letters and tell my mum all about your evil and cruel nature, Black!” As he heads out the door, he calls out a final warning, “Just you wait!”. Sirius cackles before turning to Remus (who has his uneasy face on again, with the drawn eyebrows and everything!).

Sirius locks the door before bringing Remus over to a space far from the door, ensuring no one overhearing.

There’s an awkward pause where they look at each other in silence, before Sirius speaks up.

“So… When are you going to tell the rest that you’re a werewolf?” Remus stiffens, and Sirius barrels on. “I mean, unlike myself, they aren’t smart enough to figure it out. Well, at least not as quickly.”

Remus averts his eyes and says in a low voice that ‘it’s too dangerous, not safe, they would never understand’ — typical. Won’t he ever try and trust them?

Sirius doesn’t fathom how Remus can’t see it, “But I understand, Remus. And they—” 

Remus looks at him darkly from beneath his brow “No. No, you don’t. And they wouldn’t either.”

And Remus is right, Sirius doesn’t. He doesn’t know how Remus feels, because he never says. He has to pick up on small cues, but doesn’t that prove that he cares? That he’s trust-worthy? Remus is a complete mystery that Sirius feels he’ll never truly grasp.

“I don’t want to talk about this so close after the Moon.” Remus mumbled. He glances at Sirius, then off-handedly says, “Now let the others in, I have a feeling that James will break down the door if you don’t.”

Sirius smiles, glad Remus isn’t actually angry with him. 

When James returns, he gives Sirius a playful shove with one arm (the other occupying a handful of letters). ‘So what were you two girls gossiping about?’

Sirius shoves back, with both arms, “Still trying to pry out who he’s going to be gifting. No such luck.” 

James almost trips, but regains his footing. He narrows his eyes at Sirius before throwing the pile of letters down onto his bed. Oh, it’s on.

James tackles him to the floor, but Sirius is prepared, hunching his knees to get him in the chest. They flail about, pushing and getting in a few good whacks but Remus isn’t in the mood to be a spectator today, apparently. He wedges himself in between Sirius and James, pulling them apart, glaring at them both with equal vitriol.

The two boys slump and hang their heads, mumbling apologies that they know they don’t mean. James goes back to his boring letters, sitting on his bed to read them. Sirius sits on Remus’ bed. So that he doesn’t disturb James’ letter reading, as that is important, but homework?

At the cluttered desk, Remus futilely attempts to push the excess parchment and ink pots aside before fumbling in his bag and placing his work onto the (still crowded) desk. Remus flops onto the wooden chair, which lets out a familiar whine of complaint. He sets down his messenger bag and reaches for the trusty, ruffled quill and diminished ink pot that are placed on the area in front of him. 

Only when he glances over at Sirius is when he realises that he’s been watching a little too long than is customary.

“Well? Going to do your own work? I’m not letting you copy off me this time.”

“Sure thing, Lupin” he snarks. Offerings of chocolate usually make Remus cave, so it was only a matter of time.

Remus shakes his head as he goes back to his notes before writing the homework. Was it transfiguration or charms? They’re too similar to distinguish in first-year. You would think he’d remember the difference, with those charming tutors he had flinging stinging hexes at him left and right.

Pushing away the unsavoury memories, Sirius decides that some mischief-making is required.

He aims a wingardium leviosa at a cup, then tries for two. He manages 20 seconds before they clatter back down.

Remus doesn’t look up from his writing, "Keep James out of this, will you, Sirius?"

Sirius grins, quite chuffed that Remus thought that measly show of magic was created with the aid of James. He tilts his chin up to retort, “Actually, that was all me.”

Remus turns to inspect Sirius, maybe for lies. Regardless, he returns to his work. Sirius can tell he’s going to have to up the ante if he’s going to break Remus’ concentration. Closer to the actual work, so that Remus can see the skill being displayed… Yes, that could work.

Sirius decides that Remus won’t know the difference of effort it would take to levitate objects, so he chooses the flashy route. Surely Remus knows he’s more interesting than some boring homework, right?

Three unsuspecting quills are levitated, kept at a small height so that Sirius can gauge how to hold them with his magic. It’s certainly easier than the cups, so a piece of parchment joining in wouldn’t hurt, would it?

James, after finishing reading the letter from Mrs Potter, sees the prank in progress.

“O-ho! Good one, mate”

“Couldn’t help though, could you?” Sirius is annoyed to find that his voice is slightly strained from this spell-work. He’s gone lax! Going to have to use more spells in pranks to make up for it.

“Why, I thought you’d never ask!” James brandishes his wand and pickles up 2 pieces of abandoned parchment.

A few seconds pass. He turns to Sirius.

“What now, then?” they look over to Remus, who is decidedly not distracted. "How are we going to make this work?"

Sirius mulls it over. Of course the same trick wouldn’t work twice with Remus! He’d need a new strategy… with the quills being easier to levitate, maybe he could…

Sirius lowers the hovering items. Takes a breath. Angles his wand. Mouths wingardium leviosa, so as to not alert Remus, and Remus’ hand stills. His grip on his quill tightens as well as his jaw.

“You better not be doing what I think you are.”

Sirius grins. Without spelling, he says wingardium leviosa out loud, just to throw Remus off. Then, before Remus realises, he casts the spell again, with Remus’ quill soaring up to rest 3 metres in the air.

Remus’ eyes latch onto his quill before falling onto Sirius. "Give it —"

The quill drops on Remus’ head. The room stills.

Except James, of course, he doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo as he shakily levitates a filled ink pot. It makes its way towards Remus, though he grabs it and glares at the two boys, before his face shifts from pure rage into confusion.

“Where’s Peter? Usually I can count on him to talk you out of going through with your inane ideas.”

James looks around, “Oh, I thought he came in with me.”

Sirius is getting annoyed at all this talk about Peter, so he claps James on the shoulder, “Not to worry, I'm sure he’ll scamper back in. Anyway, why don’t we do something fun ?”

“Or, we could do our homework? So that some people ,” he looks pointedly at James and Sirius, with the latter grinning “Don’t have to write it up while the teacher is taking it in ?” 

Sirius’ grin widens, “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? And I’ll have you know, the only reason that happened was because you didn’t let me see yours the night before!”

“You mean I didn’t let you copy off me?” Sirius’ face reddens guiltily and tries to deflect.

“Pshh, why would I need to copy off you? And if I did, it’s because the work’s too easy! My super smart brain gets bored quickly!”

Going off the look Remus is giving him, he's not convinced.

Tragically, Sirius’ hard work amounts to nothing in the end, as Remus completes his homework (not even fart sounds deter him! And, not to toot his own horn, but Sirius was pretty spot-on) and reads his old and worn book.

Lying face down, flat on his bed, Sirius brings his wand up to cast Tempus .

“Only half five?!” Sirius groans loudly before his head dramatically collapses back onto the bed. James chuckles from where he is doing his homework (the traitor!).

Remus tuts, but Sirius makes loud shushing noises to muffle any homework-talk. He’ll do it in the morning…

Sirius’ thoughts shift to the ‘secretive gift-giving’ (everyone calls it secret Santa, though. Well, only the people who have either muggle-descent or can tolerate muggle-borns) and what he’ll get for Remus. Knowing his mother, he’ll be called back for the Yule traditions. Lucky him. Though, he’d probably go regardless, to protect Reggie. Great, now he’s thinking about his family again.

Flopping over onto his belly, Sirius reviews the dorm to distract himself. James has taken Remus' place at the desk and is surrounded by piles of parchment and textbooks, as well as making the addition of a couple quills and an empty ink pot to clutter the desk. James seems to be multi-tasking by writing a letter to Mrs Potter and finishing his homework at the same time, which (by the tongue sticking out of his mouth and his frenzied eyes) is a commendable task.

Sirius’ eyes mosey over to inquire about Remus. Sirius’ brain reports back that it’s the same old boring book that he’s been reading for the past week (something about a ring and a lord). Sirius’ eyes concur, and saunter ‘round for a new target. Sirius’ ears detect a sound, there, over by the door. The eyes rush to analyse the new information to send to the brain. All three are disappointed by the arrival of Peter.

Sirius’s eyes try to gauge the reactions of Remus and James. Brain notes that a certain werewolf hasn’t even looked up, thoroughly engaged with the written word. James is a bit less dweeby, though he greets the new addition of the room pleasantly. This simply shall not do.

The rest of the day passes with Sirius’ vicious mockery, Remus’ reading, Peter’s whimpering and James trying to keep the peace. Apparently it was ‘too much’ to hit one of your ‘friends’ with stinging hexes in the nose (Peter totally had it coming). James took no excuses and sat him in time out, the idea presented by none other than Remus.

Sirius tips his head back and wails from the desk he has been forced into: “This is torture! Dreadful torture!”

“Didn’t think that torture was meant to be pleasant, Sirius.”

“Oh, don’t you sass me right now Lupin! This is all your fault!”

The perpetrator shrugs, “Well, I didn’t tell him to make you do your homework, I merely suggested it.”

Sirius send a particularly vicious look at Lupin, reserved for enemies.

Lupin blinks slowly, then opens his mouth.

“Are you going to continue complaining or are you—”

“Yes! Merlin! FINE. The homework…” Sirius scrunches his face up in disgust “Will be completed. I solemnly swear.”

“Alright then” and Lupin reopens his book.

The agony of boredom creeps through Sirius’ skull like a disease. He hopes it kills him. Mainly to put him out of his misery, but maybe then homework will be outlawed and children around the world will be freed from the menacing clutches of school!

Lupin stares at him from the top of his book, raises and eyebrow and urges him to get on with his work.

Honestly, 8 inches of transfiguration seems a bit much, especially at first year! Sirius’ brain ponders if they’re being extorted. Sirius’ hand wishes for sweet release.

Sirius is freed momentarily from the iron-clad grasp of education as they go to dinner.

Most graciously, his captors refrain from discussing the homework as they walk back, and Sirius delights in forgetting about it and planning pranks with James instead.

At 9 o’clock, the prefect tells them that it’s curfew and Remus is in bed first (surprise, surprise), with Peter following shortly behind. When Sirius is sure they’re both asleep, he sneaks into James’ bed to discuss the prank further.

He slowly treads across the bare, wooden floors and tiptoes on the carpet. Finally reaching the tosser’s bed, he opens the curtains to reveal James, sat up.

“Come to discuss the prank further?”

“Of course, you dolt, now lemme in — it’s freezing.”

Chapter Text

The Marauders walk along the perimeter of the Black Lake with Sirius and James striding in front, Remus and Peter walking more casually at the back.

Sirius and James are, as usual, talking at a pace that no one could ever hope to out-fly — something about Quidditch most likely, but you could never be sure. At this point in the year, Remus is surprised they still have something to talk about on the topic (however with Sirius’ memory of his lineage, though forced, gives Remus the suspicion that they could be discussing the history of Quidditch as a whole…yet they fall asleep in History of Magic? Remus won’t ever understand them). 

Speaking (or rather, thinking) about Quidditch makes Remus wonder…would Sirius want something like that for a gift? Obviously he couldn't get him a broom, and he most likely had the best on the market anyway, but he could probably get him a poster (though he has no idea what team he supports) or … well he actually doesn't have any other ideas.

Still, he has to somehow scrounge up a gift to suit Sirius-one-of-the-wealthiest-families-in-Britain- Black's tastes. He has no money, wizarding or muggle, and there is no point asking his parents to get something (unless Sirius wants a 10 pack of chocolate frogs, Yule Edition). 

Peter nudges him “You’re quieter than usual. And that’s really quiet.”

“I’m still thinking about the gift giving thing. I’ve got no clue about what I’m doing.”

“Just get something simple, like sweets. Everyone likes sweets!” 

Remus doesn’t want to argue with him, he can get surprisingly defensive of confectionery, but it’s doubtful that Sirius will be satisfied with a thoughtless gift. He is one of his best mates, after all (even if he’s annoyingly arrogant sometimes). 

“What if they’re allergic or have a bad reaction? I should probably get something safe.”

Thankfully, Peter accepts this, “Then go to the library or something. That’s what you do to find the answers to all our prank problems” 

Slightly disappointed in himself for not thinking about that sooner (it’s where he spends 90% of his time according to Sirius), he thanks Peter and turns his attention back to the troublemakers. In the 3 seconds that not all eyes were on them, they had managed to get bored and started casting spells on the lake. Wearily, Remus walks over — to talk them out of relocating the Giant Squid.

The library, he assumes, must have a spell — possibly transfiguration — so that he can have a gift made. After all, what is the point of magic if you don’t use it?

10 minutes of fruitless searching later, he sees a shock of red through the gap in the shelves. It speaks to him:

“Oh, it’s good that I've run into you. Are you going to the workshop? We can go together!”

“Uhh…”

“Remember? The workshop that the teachers are organising? So that we can make our own gifts out of magic? ”

Remus hoped this was just another feature of the castle and not a prank. If this workshop was real... maybe he should play along.

"A workshop? I didn’t hear that part of the speech."

“There’s a notice in the dorms, Remus.” At this, a hand pokes him in his chest, and peeking through the bookshelves is Lily Evans.

There is a pause where Remus contemplates learning a spell that would enable the ground to swallow him up. Then he realises that if someone figured it out, they probably wouldn’t be able to share it.

“Well, are you coming?”

“I mean, I want to —" he didn't see how he was going to get a present in time otherwise, "but the others would probably make fun of me and I’m already enough of an outcast as it is.”

“Them making fun of you would be a bit silly, considering how much they defend you from others.”

Remus hangs his head, and she softens,

“It’s alright, Remus. You can join me and Sev.”

“Thanks” Remus mumbles.

They share a small smile, and Remus is glad that he’s friends with someone like Lily.

When he gets back to the dorms, he checks for the notice. Standing tall, flashing red and gold, is the notice board with a sign taking up half the space titled GIFT WORKSHOP. Kicking himself mentally, he reads the details,

… wait a minute, that’s tomorrow!

Chapter Text

Outside the Gryffindor portrait, Severus waits (Lily and him had agreed on this arrangement, as it could be dangerous for people of her lineage to be near certain Slytherins). Within his wristwatch’s reflection, familiar red hair appeared.

“Lily, I thought you might break your record.”

“Of being just on time? Never!”

Severus’ eyes catch on the person beside Lily.

“Oh, right. Sev, Remus joined us last minute. That alright?” She eyes them both sceptically.

“Not a problem for me if it’s not a problem for him,” he says. Lupin gives him a strange look of relief, and they all head off to the Great Hall.

Even though it’s only 4 in the afternoon, the ceiling reflects a dark night with swarming silver clouds. Clusters of candles hover gently, providing ample light for the students and teachers flittering around the recently transformed tables — each respectively filled with the specific  teachers’ workshops. There seems to be one for every compulsory subject: potions, herbology, and divination are what he's sure of (being pretty distinct with cauldrons, plants, and star charts). However, all workbenches provide extra reading material of the subject, free of charge.

Severus privately wishes that Professor Slughorn has actually tried to make potions a good workbench, though he knows that train of thought is futile.

But while Severus thinks about his miracles quietly, Lupin wonders aloud “Do you think Sirius would like a book?”

Severus must have been showing how he felt on his face, because Lupin asks “What? Why are you looking at me as if I'm mad?”

“Because you are. I don’t think Black can even read, let alone appreciate a good book.”

Lily giggles to herself, “It’s great that we have our own geeky group who can ‘appreciate a good book’.” (she imitates Severus at that, something which he does not appreciate). Lupin hides his laugh behind his hand, badly.

Lupin jolts “Oh, right. I don’t remember telling you, but I have Sirius for secret santa. I probably should have told you that earlier.”

Lily pacifies him, “Oh yeah, Sev and I have each other.”

Severus, in a deadpan, informs Lupin that “She coerced me into telling her. Run while you can.”

Lily huffs. “You make me sound like a bully!”

“Not a difficult task, I assure you.”

Lily drags them over to the charms station with Professor Flitwick (standing on top of an enlarged stool) and a seventh year helper (not standing on an enlarged stool).

“Ah, it appears we have visitors! Miss Evans, Mr Snape and Mr Lupin? My, my, what brought my favourite first years here, to my station?”

Severus can say he was genuinely surprised that Professor Flitwick didn’t mention the rest of the marauders at all—

“Though I must ask, where is the rest of your group Mr Lupin? I do hope there hasn’t been a falling out!”

—there it is. Severus just can’t escape them.

“Oh — no — it’s just that, um, well, they’ve already bought something for their… person, so…”

“Ah, I see. And you wanted to put a little bit more effort in?” he winks at Lupin, who chuckles awkwardly.

Lily (probably out of pity) saves him, “Well, how can we create a gift with charms?”

“Ah, right! Well, there are truly countless ways to make a gift with charms Miss Evans, though one of the simplest would be to enhance something with charms. In the winter, clothes with warming charms applied are quite a popular gift!”

“That’s perfect! Sirius always complains about being cold. Uh! I mean—”

Professor Flitwick waves off the blunder, “It’s quite alright, my boy. So, the warming charm it is! What are we thinking to charm?”

“His gloves?” Lupin brings out a bag that Severus has never seen before, a pristine bookbag that seems to have never seen the light of day. He’s willing to bet that Sirius has also never seen this bag before, as he’s never seen Sirius carry any sort of bag (even when they have homework… it’s pathetic how obvious the only reason he’s still at this school is because of his privileged blood status).

Lupin turns to Severus and Lily, “Well, do you want to do this workshop? Warmed clothes are very useful.”

Severus feels like he’s been around Lupin for far too long. Hopefully enough time has passed to politely ditch him. “I think we will look elsewhere… Have you seen the number of layers she wears? If I added a warming charm she’d die.”

Lily does not look impressed. “Alright, well, it’s kind of understandable in the -20 degree weather!!”

Severus gives her a pointed look. She doesn't really want to stay here with Loony Lupin, right?

Lily doesn’t appreciate it. “Well, I'm guessing you want to stay freezing cold in the dungeons, do you?”

“Definitely preferable to the sweltering lion’s den.”

Lily abruptly turns back to Lupin, “Sorry about him, as you can see he has been dropped on the head too many times as a child. We’ll stay here with you, don’t worry.”

So unfortunately, Lily and Severus watch Lupin as he learns the spell, Lupin becoming obviously nervous with them looking at him, so Lily saves him yet again.

“This is actually useful for loads of situations, we should learn it too!”

If he’s going to be stuck with Lupin, he might as well be productive. “It’s good to have an expansive repertoire of spells.”

Lily mocks him for his ‘expansive repertoire of words’. Lupin laughs as he finally gets the spell. All the marauders are the same — finding pleasure in the misery of others.

After the three, some more grudgingly than others, have charmed Sirius’ gloves (that Severus has never seen him wear), is when they begin to hear it. The whispers.

A wave of mutterings and murmurs flood the room, with small snippets of "Potter" and "Lucius Malfoy" discernible over the chatter.

“This can’t be good," Lupin mutters.

Curious, Severus turns to him. “Do you have any idea about this?” 

Lupin seems to take it as an insult, “I'm not their minder, you know. They get up to plenty of trouble by themselves. More so, in fact!” 

Severus, of course, doesn’t tolerate being spoken to in this way. “Well, I didn't say you were.”

Lily looks like she’s going to try to save Lupin again but there is no need, as Lupin drops his shoulders and looks sheepish, “Sorry… didn’t mean to have an outburst like that.” 

“I assure you, Lupin, that was no ‘outburst’. I thought you would be familiar with them at least, with the fact that you hang around the likes of Sirius Black.”

Lupin chuckles a bit, though he looks a bit guilty at doing so. “I just feel bad about letting them get into trouble all the time. They pull pranks and I’m damage control, getting them out of detentions or point deductions.”

Hm. Maybe he misjudged Lupin. Severus reminds him that, “You said it yourself: you’re not their minder.”

Still looking guilty, he decides “Fine. They’re on their own for this one.”

They return to meandering around, looking for good gift options. Lily spots the transfiguration table. “Ooh! That looks fun! Sev, Sev, maybe you could make me a toy animal or something?”

Severus mumbles, “Aren’t we just a bit too old for this?” and Lily swats him.

Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore stand at the booth, with swathes of fabric, piles of buttons on one side and seas of china, cages of multi coloured beetles on the other. When they notice the trio approaching them, Headmaster Dumbledore greets them.

“Ah, delightful to see first years braving the transfiguration table! What would you like to make? Remember, the only rule is… the sky’s the limit!” At Professor McGonagall’s stern gaze, he continues, “Oh, and that you have to transfigure at least one item from this bench”  — he points to the china and beetles — “to this!” He gestures extravagantly to the fabric and buttons.

Lily asks “Can we create animals?”

Professor McGonagall says “Yes, however, we only have tutorials on the mascots of the houses: badger, eagle, lion and snake. Of course, you can try to create an animal of your own, but I would advise against it for first years.” Headmaster Dumbledore shakes his head in dismay at this, muttering something about ‘limiting the imagination and creativity of the young students’.

While the teachers provoked each other, Lupin says “Why don’t you make each other’s house mascot?”

Severus replies, “Not a bad plan, Lupin.”

Professor McGonagall instructs the students, while Lupin whips out a notebook — jotting down every action. Headmaster Dumbledore watches on eagerly.

Lily chose to transfigure the china, taking a plate and transforming it into the golden fur of the lion-to-be. Severus chooses the easy route by transforming a couple of black beetles into beady eyes for the snake.

Lily gets hers done, “the fastest anyone tonight has transfigured the lion, and we’ve had some seventh years attempt it!” …Lily looks terribly pleased with herself.

Potions has always been his strong suit, so Severus doesn’t feel too discouraged. However, he may have concentrated slightly harder after that.

After the snake and lion resemble their counterparts more closely than before, the teachers offer optional accessories.

Unsurprisingly, Lily perks up. “Ooh, Sev, do you want your lion to have a pink bow?”

“No. No thanks. Do not do that, please.”

“I think it’s too late, Severus.” says Lupin, looking from the lion to him. 

Severus just sighs. “Well, I guess your snake is in need of a bow-tie.”

Lupin joins in, “Oh, and a top hat.”

“Don’t forget his curly moustache, Sev!”

“He’s missing his monocle!”

The children stifle laughter as they look at their masterpieces. The golden lion is accessorised with a pink bow covering its vermillion mane and tail. The snake is decorated with a monocle, velvet top hat, coiled moustache (out of ribbon, held in place by Headmaster Dumbledore’s spells — “As we need this spiffing gentlesnake to look his best, hm?”) and its pink felt forked tongue poking out.

Lily says that they should still look around to see if there are any other cool workshops. Everyone agrees.

Severus notes that the history teachers didn’t make a stand, instead opting to help the other ones, which is probably for the best, he thinks that only the unconscious would grace the history table. 

Then Severus spots potions, while Lupin spots defence against the dark arts.

“You first?” Lupin offers.

Severus objects, “We should probably leave the best till last.”

Severus thinks the defence is boring, as the teacher is clearly using it as time to plan lessons. Lupin seems disappointed.

Severus tries to cheer him up. “Hopefully next year’s teacher is actually adequate, hm?”

He receives a smile in response so he thinks that must count for something.

They finally stop at potions, where Professor Slughorn greets Lily and Severus (as well as essentially ignoring Lupin). He keeps trying to poach them for his ‘slug club’, but Severus needs to ‘play hard to get’ in order to become memorable. He knows, despite his cursed muggle blood, he’s going to become the most valuable potions student at Hogwarts, but he’ll need strategy to maintain social status.

Lily tries to pull the conversation back to why they came. “So… what sort of gifts can you make here, Professor?”

Sluggy says “Oh, right, kids you days, well… I, uh, hm.” he gestures to a simmering cauldron containing a warm yellow mixture with an orange centre, that Severus recognises.

“Foveo cor?”

Professor Slughorn is visibly impressed, “Ah, there’s my boy! See, you would positively thrive at the slug club!”

“Well yes, sir, hopefully I will someday obtain a seat at the club. However, I promised my mother that I wouldn't narrow my vision too early, you see?”

He obviously doesn’t, but agrees wholeheartedly and Lily pipes up “What’s so gift-ish about that potion?”

“Ah, well, my dear Lily, this potion — more commonly known as “Draught of community” — has qualities that inspire feelings of happiness and belonging in the consumer. Quite a tricky potion for first years, but you two should have no issue! Though, if any of you do have trouble, there are some free ones here.”

“Yes, thank you Professor, sadly we already have gifts and it’s getting late. We’d better get back before curfew, shouldn’t we?” Lily says pointedly, glaring at the boys.

“See you in class, professor.” the two boys say.

They rush off. 

The table at the entrance of the hall is where the prefects (as well as the Head Boy and Girl) are showing the students how to magically wrap presents. Severus chooses the snowman themed one, because the hats match with the snake.

Lupin says “Well, I have actually got to go, better see what trouble they got themselves into.”

They wish him good luck.

Later, after they have deposited their gifts into the sack outside the hall, when Severus is walking her to the Gryffindor dormitories, Lily is going “Did you hear that? Professor McGonagall said I was the quickest tonight! Better than seventh years!!”

“Now, now, Lily. Speed isn’t everything.”

“Oh Severus, would it kill you to praise me?”

“Well, I'm not going to test it, am I?”

Lily scoffs, and threatens to burn the ‘gift’ lion.

All too soon, they arrive at the dorms.

“Well, this is it! Hopefully it isn’t a bomb site…” She hesitates at the portrait.

Severus sighs, “And now I have to go, so I won't overhear your secret password and sneak in?”

Lily turns her head to look at him with mock-scorn. “Yes, of course, you know the rules.”

“Right, right, yes, my apologies. Heading out right this second, your highness.”

Lily plays along, her green eyes shining, “Post-haste, my good knight!”

Severus bows dramatically before turning away, smiling all the way down to the dungeons.