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My dearest Remus,

you had already anticipated your father’s and my surprise when you asked to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays in your last letter. Of course, we understand your reasoning. I am sure you offered Sirius to stay with us instead and that he declined, but make sure he knows he would be welcome here. Yes, you can stay, if you wish to, but we would like to see you for some time around the holidays, maybe you’d like to come and stay with us for New Year’s at least. And tell Sirius – and James and Peter if you like – that they are welcome as well for this holiday.
As for your Christmas preparations: I’m aware that you are probably oblivious as to what to give to me or your father and as you have been ignoring our answer that we do not want you to give us presents I wanted to give you a few hints…

“What does she write?” James asked, after giving Remus about half a minute to read the latest letter from his mother, “Can you stay here for Christmas?” James had always been the most impatient of his friends. Remus could forgive him for this, though, and if it was only for the way Sirius was acting as if this conversation was not concerning him.

It had not been Sirius’ idea that his friends would stay in Hogwarts for Christmas, not going home to the loving families that were waiting for them. Remus felt a pinch in his chest every time Sirius acted as if he deserved the treatment that his family showed him, and as if he were not worth his friends spending Christmas with him instead of their parents.

“None of us have siblings, except for the three brothers we have found here,” James had assured Sirius, when they had first talked about it, in the dead of the night, huddled together on James’ bed after the hours it took to make Sirius tell them what had been on his mind.

Sirius’ parents had always been the worst. Not only the worst of all of the marauders’ but probably also the worst globally speaking. Sirius had learnt to play down how much his parents’ behaviour hurt him, but his friends had simultaneously learnt to see through this façade. His parents telling him his presence ‘was not expected at the Black Family Christmas Festivities’ wounded him more deeply than he wanted to admit.

It had torn him up for days before James and Remus and Peter had brought him to open up. James did so by needling him, Peter by trying to take his mind elsewhere and Remus – Remus offered him moments of silence to speak to him. And he also tried offering him comfort, even though he was very unsure how much he was able to offer in these regards.

Remus was very unsure of most things concerning Sirius these days. It had not been an easy year to process. Process what his friends had been doing for Remus, becoming animagi, and what this made him feel, especially towards Sirius. Remus tried to find out if it was the gratitude and friendship he felt for Peter and James or if there was something entirely else now.

Was not the fact that he was asking himself that at all proof enough that there was more to his feelings for Sirius than the brotherly love he felt for his other friends?, was what an inner voice kept whispering in Remus’ ear.

Lily had asked the same thing after patiently listening to him ramble about this inner conflict. She was the only one who knew. Mostly, because he was the only one who knew about her change of heart towards James, but this was a whole problem on its own.

This dead of the night-conversation had happened in the beginning of November, not too long before the marauders had made the decision to spend Christmas together in Hogwarts.

This was what Peter, James and Remus agreed to do after Sirius had declined each of their offers to spend the holidays with their respective family: “Peter, you and your mum have narrow enough quarters anyway. You don’t need to add another person to that, right?” – “James, you can’t be serious, I’m sure your parents throw even posher parties than mine. I prefer the calm of Hogwarts over that any day, mate.”

To Remus, he had not even given a reason. He had just stared at him for a moment, opening his mouth and closing it again, before shaking his head and saying, “No, Moony, thank you.” Remus didn’t know what to make of that. Of the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. Merlin, he had been living off over-analysing the scene again and again for weeks.

“Yes, I will stay,” Remus finally answered, later than he should have and later than anyone should answer questions according to the way James was looking at him. Remus fixed his eyes on Sirius, though, who was still looking down on his plate, picking at the food, “She sends her love to all of you.”

“Aww, your mum is so nice. Did she send hugs as well? I could do with a hug,” James said, elbowing Remus kindly in the ribs. Remus returned the gesture with a bit more force and James started cackling, earning shushes from everyone else at the Gryffindor table.

*****

The last day of school before the holidays arrived fast and while most of the Gryffindors were currently packing their bags the marauders were occupying the upholstery in front of the fireplace in the common room. Remus and Peter were reading; James was playing around with a piece of scroll – a potions essay they had gotten back earlier in the morning – letting it levitate above his head and such things; Sirius was doing nothing specifically, he was people-watching and sometimes messing with James’ spells.

It was quiet and nice on the surface, but Remus felt like there was something buzzing underneath. He was sure that James felt it as well, both of them kept glancing at Sirius from time to time, who either ignored this or was oblivious to his friends’ worrying. It was probably the former. When James’ and Remus’ gazes met, James pulled a face that Remus knew meant he didn’t know what to do. Remus shrugged lightly, not knowing what to answer. He didn’t know either.

The past few weeks had been weird. On the one hand, everything had been happening in its normal turns – Remus had a high awareness of monthly routine due to his lycanthropy – on the other hand every moment in the past month had a strange tune to it. Sirius had been more irritable than usually, and simultaneously more silent. There had not been a confrontation, though. This could have probably helped – they had lived together for about five years now, and sometimes you just needed to get stuff out of your system with some shouting or crying or jinxing or whatever – but Sirius dodged every attempt of confrontation James started. James was getting more serious about his attempts every time, but he had not succeeded yet, which did say something about Sirius’ evasiveness.

Remus was still trying to get Sirius to talk to him by silence. He did not believe in telepathy, but he tried it, nonetheless. It did not work. Maybe, Remus wondered, Sirius did not want to talk to him, because he could sense the nervousness, he evoked in Remus most recently. Or maybe he just did not want to talk in general. The only thing that Remus thought about without a maybe was that he was overthinking everything concerning Sirius.

Remus was not even aware he had sighed – and loud enough that his friends all looked up at him, even Peter who had been quite engrossed in his book – until James asked him, “Are you alright, Moony?”

Sirius was looking at him, too, his eyebrows narrowed, his eyes asking if Remus was alright. Merlin, he hoped he was not blushing, he felt a bit flustered and tried to look back at his book without it seeming forced, “Uh, yeah, I’m alright.”

“You sure?” Peter asked, nudging Remus thigh with his foot. Remus nodded, without looking up. He was sure they were all looking at him questioningly and he knew he would not be able to meet their gaze without giving away anything about his thoughts. He was saved by Fabian Prewett who came up to James to ask something Quidditch-related and Remus had the chance to shift his position and hide behind his book for the rest of the night.

*****

Except for the four of them, only three other students stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays: two sisters from Hufflepuff, whose parents were quarantined for some unknown reason, and one student from Ravenclaw, who did not talk about their reasons for staying. In fact, they did not talk at all, which struck Remus as odd, but they were also the only first year student who stayed, so maybe it was just shyness that kept them from talking, surrounded by all these older students.

That all of the marauders were staying for Christmas had been food for whispers the weeks leading up to the holidays; there were rumours that the four of them were only doing so to plan some big coupe. These were untrue of course, but Remus was kind of glad that they existed because it took people’s mind off the path of finding out the truth. Remus feared that having everybody saying he was not welcome in his parents’ house would have influenced Sirius’ mental state and mood very badly.

The only person Remus cared to know the truth about why they were staying was Professor McGonagall. Remus had gone and visited her in her office the day they all signed up for staying at school. She had made tea and fed him some of her stash of biscuits and had listened to him when he explained. He did not usually like to talk about anyone’s personal business without their presence or willing consent, but he felt like McGonagall should know. Maybe she already did, Remus wondered. Sirius had a strangely open relationship to McGonagall. Remus knew that he sometimes went to her office to gossip about James and Lily and whatever else was new.

“So, Remus, what’s on your mind that you wanted to talk about?” McGonagall had asked and for a moment Remus had felt that her inquiring mimic would make him spill everything that was on his mind, but in the end, he could stop himself and only told her that Sirius had been more or less uninvited to stay with his parents and that therefore all of them would stay with him.

“I see,” she had said, her face showing slight concern but no grain of surprise. She had pushed the plate with biscuits towards Remus again, “Well, thank you for informing me. I’m sure my colleagues will be much calmer if I can assure them firmly that you are not staying to cause mischief.”

“You won’t tell them, though, professor, right?”

“I am sure my word will be enough for them.”

*****

“So, since we are apparently planning something,” James said on the third day of their stay, after they had – on the initiative of Remus – finished all the class work they had to do over the holidays, “should we…you know, plan something?”

Remus looked up to him from the book he was reading – a Muggle novel called The Great Gatsby that had been Lily’s Christmas present for him, “I’m sure whatever you are thinking is a horrible idea.” Remus heard Peter and Sirius chortle at his answer, but all of them had spontaneously abandoned what they had been doing before, which meant that it was too late to argue against doing anything, it was time to decide what this something was.

“Please, guys, I thought-” Remus started nonetheless, but James shushed him, before he could even finish the first part of his sentence.

“You have not even heard my proposal, Moony, I’m sure you won’t be as opposed as you think you will be,” James fixed him with his most charming smile, the one he used whenever he tried to convince McGonagall he had not been part of a particular strange happening that others would call a prank. Remus knew he would not be able to stop him either way, so he gave up with a dramatic sigh. James grinned, satisfied, and leapt into a long explanation of his plan.

It turned out that Remus was in fact not as opposed to James’ idea as he had thought he would be. He was actually not opposed at all. The idea to make a map of the castle and the grounds had been floating between them for quite some time. They just never had the time to make concrete plans for it or even to implement them. But what better time than the present?, James asked, and he was right, Remus had to give him that.

The first part of their plan was research. It was this part that was usually everyone’s but Remus’ least favourite. They spent a few hours in the library, much to Madam Pince’s dismay. She liked Remus well enough, but the rest of the boys she only knew as troublemakers – James and Sirius, who were loud and often disruptive – or at least as annoyance – Peter, who always put books back in the wrong place and smudged ink on the pages and stuff like that.

Remus used what he had of boyish charm to borrow more books than he could carry – some about magical map-making and others about various topics to diffuse what he was researching – and he started reading as soon as they had returned to the common room. So did the rest of the boys, even though they were much more looking forward to the part of their plan that meant leaving the common room and maybe using James’ invisibility cloak or transforming into their Animagus forms.

The plan helped with Sirius’ moodiness. His mind had been successfully taken off the fact why they were spending Christmas together this year in the first place – James had asked him about his bad moods, and he had said it had nothing to do with his parents: “I hate Christmas with them, I don’t know why you would think I would not prefer this over them.” And then changed the topic rather briskly.

They were all very preoccupied with their research, so Remus was in fact a bit surprised when James said, “It’s Christmas Eve, guys!”

It really should have not been that surprising. It was Christmas they had stayed for after all. Still, Remus felt pleasantly surprised. He was really in the mood for Christmas. There would be a feast for the few people in the castle the next day, the past month had been leading up to this. Christmas was, quite honestly, Remus’ favourite time of the year. He loved the snow, the cold outside and the contrasting warmth inside, he loved spending time with loved ones, present-giving and –receiving. He loved all the chocolate treats and biscuits. He was really looking forward to it.

“Merlin’s beard, you are radiating Christmas spirit, Moony, it’s almost gross,” James said, laughing at him, and Remus shook his head, but he smiled. He probably did and he was fine with that. He was totally fine, especially with the way Sirius was looking at him. Fine, fine, fine. Not blushing or anything. Not feeling his heart beating differently than a few seconds before. Just casually letting his hair fall in his face while looking back down to his book.

*****

Waking up on Christmas morning was much calmer than Remus had anticipated. He was the first to be awake, for once. Usually, it was Peter who would be awake first and who would then wake each of them up sooner or later, because the more he tried to stay silent, the more he began fidgeting and accidentally doing noisy stuff. But on this day, Remus was the first to be awake.

He looked around the room, the elves had arranged piles of gifts on the foot of each of their beds. Remus stood up silently and added his gifts for the others to their piles. He liked making gifts and he liked receiving them, but he didn’t like the whole procedure itself. It just made him shy and he never knew how to react – no matter whether he liked or disliked what he had been given.

His friends were still sleeping peacefully – more or less at least, since James usually snored in a way that sounded like he was choking. Remus watched the sleeping Sirius considerably longer than his other friends and the flashing thought that it was only because he needed to make sure he did not wake him up was ridiculous even to his own mind.

Shaking his head about himself, Remus climbed back into his own bed and picked up The Great Gatsby, it was not a long book and he had only been kept from finishing it by the research for the map he had concentrated on for the last few days.

He had finished the book by the time the rest of the guys woke up and was occupying himself with rereading the passages that had spoken to him the most. Actually, he was tempted to just start reading it all over again. The others kept him from it by making known that they were awake. They exchanged “Merry Christmas”-es and hugs and then they all huddled together on James’ bed, because it was the tidiest one – Peter kept crumbling all over his bed, which drove the rest of them crazy, and Sirius used the half of the mattress he did not sleep on as storage place for his clothes and Remus’ own, fitful sleep always left the sheets half torn-out, it was a mess.

“So,” Peter asked, eyeing the piles of presents around the room, “how are we doing this?”

“What do you mean?” James asked, following his gaze.

“I mean, how do you guys do this usually? Does everyone just dig into their own pile?”

“How do you do it at home, Peter?” Remus asked, because it was quite easy to read that Peter wanted to suggest a way of doing it himself. Sirius glanced at him with a smirk on his face, when Peter broke into a huge explanation of how they had this tradition of rolling dice – whenever someone rolled a six, they were allowed to unpack one item. When someone rolled a three the other person could unwrap something.

“That’s kinda nice,” James said, when Peter was finished, “my parents and I usually just dig in, so it’s a huge mess for like two minutes and then it’s over.”

There was a short second of everyone glancing at Sirius, because he had not said anything yet, but from his face it was obvious, that he would not contribute to the discussion, so Remus just took his wand from the bedside table and accio-ed some dice, “Pete, will you do the honours?”

*****

Christmas Dinner was even kind of better than the usual feasts at Hogwarts. The eight students ate together with Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid. The rest of staff had gone home to celebrate with their families, except for Mr Filch who had excused himself to the headmaster – “He hates Chris’mas, ye know?” Hagrid told the boys in what was supposed to be a whisper.

The food was delicious and plentiful; the atmosphere was festive and happy, and they had lots of fun singing Christmas songs together and playing around with what had come out of their crackers – silly hats, a pan flute that Sirius started playing instantly with some talent, and a joke wand that exploded into blue smoke in Peter’s hands.

Remus only thought about his parents when they were on their way back to the common room after dinner. Yes, he missed them, but he was also very happy where he was right now. He told his friends as much. James grinned at him smugly, “Oh, are you getting sappy now, Moony? That’s so cute.”

“Don’t be an arse, James. I’m trying to be nice for once,” Remus answered, flipping him the bird.

“You’re always nice, Remus, you can’t hide your fluffy inside very well, you know?” Sirius said, giving Remus a kind of side-hug as he was walking right next to him. Remus felt his insides squirm kind of happily at his words and at the contact. It was not that they never touched or never talked like that, but the Christmas atmosphere, and now this; Remus was just really happy right then and there.

“This was the best Christmas ever,” Peter said, when they were all lying in bed that night, “I’m so full, I think I will never eat again.”

James laughed at that, “Does that mean Remus can eat all of your chocolate now?”

Remus threw a pillow at James for that, “I wouldn’t do that. I’d share with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sirius answered, and they all laughed.

“You’re all a bit mean when it comes to chocolate. Maybe you should eat as much as I do, I read somewhere that it actually makes you happier,” Remus told them, accio-ing his pillow back from James, because otherwise he would probably just keep it for himself.

“Yeah, sure,” Sirius said again, this time with even more amusement in his voice than before.

“Is that why you were so happy we all gave you chocolate for Christmas. Or is it just because you’re an enormous sweet-tooth?” James teased further.

Remus scoffed. “I hate you all.”

“Now, Moony, we know that is not true,” Sirius responded, his tone had barely changed but when Remus glanced at him, he felt there was something that was different.

He was distracted from this, though, by James. “Weren’t you the one who confessed his brotherly love for us in the hallway just an hour ago?”

Remus scoffed again, “I can’t seem to recall that.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sirius said again, and Remus was not the only one who picked up on that.

“Sirius, have you lost your ability to articulate full sentences?” James asked and even though Remus was not looking at him, he knew there was a smug smile on his lips. It was just this tone.

“I said a full sentence just half a minute ago,” Sirius stated, sounding a bit irritated.

“Yeah,” Peter said, “but you also said ‘Yeah, sure’ three times in the last five minutes.”

There was a moment of silence that Sirius either needed to think about what his friends had said, or as build up for when he answered, “Yeah, sure.” The other three scoffed then they all laughed.

Peter had been right; it was a very good Christmas and the good mood they all had been in before they fell asleep almost had Remus forget the worries he had felt towards Sirius lately. He had seemed good, like the rest of them, but when Remus woke up in the middle of the night – a fairly normal occurrence as he had insomniac episodes around the new moon period every month – Sirius was not in his bed and also nowhere else in their room.

*****

Remus found him sitting curled up in a blanket on the carpet in the common room directly in front of the fireplace that was shining on him warmly. He looked up when he heard Remus’ steps on the staircase and seemed to crawl into himself even more.

Remus hesitated for a moment. But he couldn’t bear to leave Sirius alone, so he stepped up to him, pointing at the carpet next to him, “May I?”

Sirius nodded and Remus sat down cross-legged next to him. It was really hot. Remus asked himself how Sirius could bear sitting so close to the flames wrapped up in a blanket, probably still wearing the soft, knitted jumper that he had worn to bed. He must be really cold, he thought.

“Why are you here?” Sirius asked after a minute of silence.

Remus turned around to him, “Why are you?”

Sirius shrugged and Remus mirrored him, creating another space of silence. Remus still hoped this would be the way he would get Sirius to speak to him. Mostly, because he was scared of any other way that he could animate Sirius to talk.

Of course, he could have started up a conversation leading with, ‘Hey, I think I am in love with you,’ but that could prove to be a stupid idea in so, so many ways. Maybe Sirius would laugh about him. While they were close friends, sometimes Sirius could be cruel, especially when he felt vulnerable himself.

Maybe Sirius would be…generally opposed to whatever this was, whatever Remus wanted their relationship to be – and Remus wasn’t even sure himself what he wanted. He didn’t take Sirius for someone who would hate him just because he wasn’t straight. Still, there was this part inside of him that was aware of the chance that even trying to speak about this could be a grave mistake.

And Remus wasn’t even sure himself. Of anything, really. How should he talk about this when he wasn’t even secure in what this would mean? He probably should figure this out for himself first. But still. This was now a part of him. It was part of why he was so worried for Sirius right now. Of course, he would have worried before, as well. But now, everything he was feeling had a new dimension added to it. Still, there was no way to talk about this. Not now.

“Moony, I can hear you thinking very loudly,” Sirius murmured pulling Remus out of his thoughts, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Remus shook his head, “I don’t think I can. Not yet.”

“Alright.” Sirius fell quiet again.

“Do you want to talk about it?

“About what?” Sirius said, probably trying to sound nonchalant but sounding mostly tired.

“About whatever’s on your mind. Whatever’s keeping you awake.”

“It’s nothing.” So, so tired.

“Right…” Remus was tired as well.

“Don’t…I…I mean it. It’s nothing…It’s…”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. But I feel like you are struggling with something and…and I want to help.” Remus turned to face him, leaning on his left arm, so he was shortening the distance between them.

“You worry too much.” Sirius answered, a small smile on his lips but not in his eyes.

“Maybe. But I can’t help it.” Remus shrugged and leant away from Sirius again, knotting his hands together in his lap instead of having one of them there, so close to his friend…

Sirius followed his movements, now actually turning around to him. “Merlin, Remus…”

“What?”

“It’s just…what is it about you that makes me want to tell you anything you want to hear?” Sirius said, but it didn’t sound like he actually wanted Remus to hear him. There was a moment of silence, while Remus was still choked up with surprise and other emotions that were just…there, all the time but also very suddenly.

Finally, Sirius broke the silence again, “You really want to know what’s keeping me up?”

“Only if you want to tell me,” he answered while he wanted to say ‘yes’ and he was sure that Sirius was able to hear some of the agitation that Remus knew he was radiating right now.

“That was never really the problem,” Sirius murmured, again, more to himself, before he spoke up, “Last summer, when I was back at my parents’ place, you know, I was avoiding them for most of the time. But I couldn’t do that all of the time, otherwise I’d probably starved. So, at one of these dinners that I had to endure my mother said something along the lines of ‘the only honourable thing I can still do for the family’ was to ‘marry well’. And I pretty much told her to go fuck herself.”

“And that’s why they told you not to go there for Christmas?” Remus asked into the pause Sirius was leaving.

“Yes,” he nodded, “well, it was part of it.” He paused again but this time Remus knew not to interject. Sirius seemed to be considering what to say next and Remus feared he would rattle him up should he say something now.

“I told them, I would never marry and least of all anyone they’d find suitable. That did not go over well with them, as you can imagine. My father asked what I could ‘possibly mean by this’ and my brother, the arsehole, told him I was gay.”

He looked at Remus, apparently expecting some kind of reaction. Remus didn’t know anything besides his worries.

“How did they react?”

“I didn’t stay to find out, went to my room and hexed the door shut for the night.” He shrugged, snorting unhappily, looking away from Remus and into the fire. “We didn’t have a real conversation afterwards, which I take for a good thing, actually. It’s not like I wanted to talk to them in the first place.”

“What about your brother?”

Sirius shrugged again. “Didn’t really talk to him either. That’s probably a good thing as well. I don’t want him spreading stuff about me here in school. By all means, I don’t think the rest of the student body would just ignore it, should he tell them something like that. I’m not eager to find out.”

“Yeah…you’re probably right…” Remus agreed. “Thank you for telling me.”

Remus turned to stare into the fire as well. After having sat there for a while he had forgotten about the heat. But now, he was feeling it again, combined with the heat that was rushing through him. Sirius didn’t seem like he thought being gay was a bad thing which was good. It was really good. That took some weight off Remus’ shoulders. Still, there was the question…

“Are you not going to ask?” Sirius broke the silence. “Whether my brother was telling the truth?”

Remus felt caught. Of course, he wanted to know. He checked himself, though. “I want you to know that you can tell me if you want to. But I won’t ask.”

“Merlin, Remus,” Sirius said for the second time that night, “can you stop being so fucking perfect?”

They turned to each other and this time Sirius was the one leaning in. Remus blinked a few times, unsure how to react to this question, then he shrugged.

Sirius sighed deeply, a small smile grazing his lips. He struggled a bit to pull his other arm out of the blanket he was tugged into. He was still wearing his jumper. Remus loved this jumper on him. “You should ask, if you want to know.”

“Are you gay, Sirius?” Remus asked after a second. Sirius wanted him to ask, right?

“Yes.” Sirius said, shifting his position. Remus mirrored him subconsciously and they were now facing each other on the carpet. Sirius swallowed nervously. Then he extended his hand towards Remus’ hands. “Are you gay, Remus?”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure. Failing in his words, he could at least take Sirius hand in his. This was new somehow. They had touched before. But never this consciously, this nervously. Never when they were alone and nobody else was awake and nobody was around and…Remus watched their fingers intertwine as if they belonged to someone else.

“It’s okay, if you don’t know.” Sirius said silently, squeezing Remus’ hand tenderly, “It’s not something you need to have figured out yet. Or anytime, I guess. I mean, I think it feels good to have a name for it, you know? I learnt a few things about this from Muggle magazines. They are more open about stuff like this- I mean, they are still assholes about it, though, most of the time. I’m sorry, I should probably stop talking, I’m…”

“I’m…” Remus cleared his throat. “I’m not sure. If I’m gay, I mean. I’m…I don’t know.”

Sirius nodded and took Remus’ second hand as well, now all of their fingers were entangled and Remus was still looking at them, his scrawny fingers with the bitten off nails next to Sirius slender fingers, wearing two sleek black rings on each middle finger.

Remus looked up and saw that Sirius was watching their hands as well. He looked up, though when he saw Remus move his head. His cheeks were flushed, probably the nervousness and the heat of the fire. Remus was sure he looked exactly the same but maybe for other reasons. Or, mostly for other reasons.

Sirius was smiling again and there was a spark of amusement in his eyes that Remus had missed in the last few weeks. “Talk to me, Moony. What do you want?” His voice was teasing and sultry and perfect.

Remus wanted nothing more than to kiss him. It took a few seconds to convince himself that he could actually tell Sirius this. He finally had the feeling that this might not end in heartbreak – or worse, their friendship ending. He was hopeful, he was full of feelings in general. It might be time to let some of it out. “I’d like to kiss you.”

“Yes, please.” Sirius answered before Remus even had time to worry whether it was a mistake to say these words. They both smiled, “I’d like that, too.”

*****

Dear Remus,

Your father and I are happy to hear that you had a nice time over the holiday. We are trying not to be too offended that you called the first Christmas you ever spent without us ‘the best Christmas you ever had’ but I am sure you’ll explain that when you’re here for New Year’s Eve. Of course, you can bring Sirius with you, we’ll be happy to have him celebrate with us.

We’re looking forward to seeing you so soon!

All the best wishes,

Mum