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“You owe me, Prongs.” Sirius dropped a bag onto the kitchen table and sank into a chair. “I can’t believe you made me go back to that shop three times.” He held out his arms, and Lily handed Harry to him. “The last time I went back and said the jumper wasn’t Christmassy enough, the man at the shop looked at me like I was mad. Which, you are, by the way.”
“I’m not mad,” James said, peering into the refrigerator. “I just had a specific thing in mind, and I wasn’t going to settle for anything less. Want some eggnog?”
Sirius stuck his tongue out at Harry, eliciting a burst of delighted laughter. “Are you putting Ogden’s in it?”
Lily shot him a reproachful look. “It’s ten o’clock in the fucking morning, Sirius.”
“And?”
She sighed. “Did you have breakfast?”
“No, I don’t have any food.” He covered his face with his hand and pulled it away; Harry’s eyes lit up, and he flashed Sirius a gummy smile.
“Well, buy some – you were just at the shops to get that.” She pointed at the bag containing the Christmas jumper.
“I have food, Evans, but nothing I don’t have to cook.” He looked at Harry and rolled his eyes.
“Your laziness astounds me.” She reached down to smooth a stubborn lock of Harry’s hair. “And I suppose you’re expecting me to make you something?”
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to make up arbitrary rules about what time of day it’s acceptable to have a drink and how much food needs to be consumed before having said drink, the least you could do is make me something to eat.” He formed his lips into a pout — Lily often called it his puppy dog look. “Come on, Evans, you make the best toast.”
She sighed again and walked into the kitchen without replying.
“Here you go,” James said, levitating three glasses of eggnog onto the table. “It does not contain alcohol, but it is delicious. That’s rubbish, by the way – I make the best toast.”
Sirius took a sip and tried to hide his pleasure. It was delicious even without Ogden’s, but admitting that would be letting Evans win. “No you don’t. You never put enough jam.”
“Well, put the jam on yourself – problem solved.” James pulled the bag toward him and reached inside.
“No, I’m lazy – we’ve been through this.” He glanced down at Harry. “Sorry about the jumper, Harry. I tried to tell him it’s not fair to dress you like a tosser when you’re too young to argue, but nobody listens to me.”
James held up the jumper, beaming. “He won’t look like a tosser. He’ll look adorable. Hold him out, Padfoot.”
Sirius turned Harry around and held him steady while James slipped the jumper over his head and eased his little arms into the sleeves. When he was finished, James was beaming, and Sirius had to repress a smile. Harry did look adorable, even if it was the world’s most tosserish jumper.
“Look at you.” James fiddled with the sleeve of Harry’s jumper, eyes shining. “In your own Potter Christmas jumper.”
“Prongs, don’t cry – Harry’s already embarrassed enough wearing this.” But as Sirius turned Harry around to survey the full effect, he too felt an absurd urge to cry.
“Shut up, Padfoot.” James took Harry from Sirius and balanced him on his knee. “I’ll cry if I want to. Evs, come and see.”
“Sorry, I was making toast for this idiot–” She bustled in to set a plate of toast in front of Sirius, but she froze when she saw Harry. “Oh, God, look at him, James.” She pressed her hand to her heart, her eyes wide.
James gazed down at Harry. “I know.”
Lily turned to Sirius. “Padfoot, I know you hate the jumpers, but even you have to admit that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.”
Sirius heaved a grudging sigh. “Yeah, alright, he’s pretty fucking cute.” He glanced at the plate and smiled. “Thanks for the toast.”
Lily plucked Harry from James’s arms and kissed the top of his head before sitting down beside Sirius and reaching for her glass of eggnog.
“Mum and Dad would lose their damn minds if they could see him in that jumper,” James said, gazing across the table at Harry. “I bet they’d both cry.”
Sirius threw down the rest of his toast. “Fucking hell, Prongs. It’s ten in the morning, and all I’ve had is one sip of nonalcoholic eggnog and a hefty serving of your wife’s judgment, and you’re going to say that?”
He swallowed the emotion that had risen in his throat and tried not to imagine Fleamont and Euphemia dressed in their own Potter Christmas jumpers as they cooed over Harry. They had presented Sirius with his own jumper to welcome him into the family, and he had donned it and posed for photographs despite his vehement grumbling. Years later they had given one to Mary; a photograph of the two of them in the matching jumpers had hung on their bedroom wall until the week after her death, when Sirius had thrown it away in a fit of rage. Now he was expected to celebrate this stupid bloody holiday without any of them, when he would have preferred to spend the entire month of December drunk, pretending Christmas did not exist.
“Sorry. I just… I really miss them.” James’s voice was soft, but Sirius heard the current of emotion in his words.
“Me too,” Sirius muttered, staring down into his glass of eggnog.
“Here.”
Sirius looked up to see Lily handing Harry to him. He cradled Harry to his chest, idly stroking his wild hair. The familiar weight of him in Sirius’s arms eased some of the grief that constricted his chest.
“I would’ve tried to hug you myself, but you had that surly Padfoot look that made me think you might hex me,” Lily said, smiling wryly as she leaned against the back of James’s chair. “But you never turn down Harry’s hugs.”
Sirius returned her smile. “I only hexed you for hugging me that one time. Move on, Evans.”
“I wasn’t judging you, by the way,” she continued, ignoring his comment. “I’m just looking out for you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I dunno. That look was pretty judgey.”
“She can’t help it, Pads.” James looked at Lily and grinned. “That’s just how her face looks.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “Rude.”
“I didn’t mean it in a rude way – I like your judgey face.”
She glared at James, but her face relaxed into a smile as he grabbed her hand and pulled her down for a kiss.
“Ugh, Harry, why do they insist on doing that in front of us?” Sirius said, shaking his head.
“Shut up and eat your toast,” Lily said, turning to roll her eyes at Sirius before she gave James another kiss.
Sirius grinned and shifted Harry to the side so he wouldn’t spill crumbs in his hair. He finished the toast and washed it down with a sip of eggnog. It wasn’t the same as Ogen’s, but the jam and the eggnog and Harry’s comforting warmth made the idea of Christmas almost tolerable. And considering it was ten o’clock in the morning and he was completely sober, ‘almost tolerable’ was quite the accomplishment.