Chapter Text
Christmas 1983
There comes a time in all children’s lives, when the magic dies. And instead, cold harsh truth and logic sets in. Some children are clever, they put the clues together one by one. Some children are caught in the crossfire, disillusioned by the whispers of their friends on November playgrounds. And some children, the especially brave and restless ones, wiggle out of bed in the middle of night to catch a glimpse of the magic for themselves, and find something else entirely.
“What are you doing?” James Potter stood frozen, half bent in front of the christmas tree, caught in a staring match with his three year old doppelgänger. James opened his mouth, then shut it, gaping like a deer in headlights.
“Harry! I- um, what are you doing?”
“Are you trying to peek at your Christmas presents?” Harry asked, in a tone that sounded a bit too much like his mother. James exhaled a sigh of relief, and stood up straight.
“Um, yes. I was.”
“You’re not supposed to do that,Dad.” The tiny Lily said again.
“You’re right, that was very naughty of me.”
“If you look at your presents early, Santa will come back and take them all away.” James didn’t know where his son had heard that particularly threat.
“Who told you that?”
“Mum.”
“Ah yes, right she is, your mum’s a smart one. Well, we best get to bed before Santa catches us.”
“Santa doesn’t catch you, dad.” Harry said, with incredible condescension, “He sees everything.” Which, right, that was a terrifying thought. Perhaps parents should really be thinking through the implications of this whole Santa thing.
“Well then it’s a relief you stopped me isn't it?” James said, abandoning the tree. “Now let's get back to bed.” Harry eyed his father skeptically, but nodded anyway and let James tuck him back into bed.
When James returned to deposit the rest of the presents beneath the tree, he made sure to bring his cloak.
Christmas 1984
Four year old Harry Potter pursed his face in concentration as he carefully lowered the toy train car onto the track. The train sprang to life, a puff of smoke emerged from the train’s chimney, and with a whistle the train began moving along the tracks on its own.
“Wow!” Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Uncle Pads! Do you see my train?” Harry was quite good at running now, and he crossed the living room to where his godfather was sitting against the edge of the sofa and launched himself without warning into Sirius’ lap. Sirius winced as tiny knees stabbed into his legs.
“I sure do Haz. Is that the Hogwarts Express?” Harry nodded vigorously.
“Santa got it for me!”
“Did he now?” Sirius made a face of surprise. Lily had spent a whole week perfecting the charms on the model train set. “I would have loved a train like that when I was your age!” Harry made a funny face at Sirius.
“Well why didn’t you ask Santa for one?”
“Ah, well, let's just say I tended to be on the naughty list a lot as a kid.” Sirius said with a laugh.
“I quite think your parents were the naughty ones.” Remus grumbled from the couch.
Seemingly unfazed, Harry continued, “Did Santa get you anything this year?”
“Well, no, nothing this year either I’m afraid. But your Uncle Moony got me a new riding jacket.”
“Cool!” Harry said excitedly, despite having little concept of a motorcycle jacket, but all of his uncle Padfoot’s jackets were cool, so this one must be as well. “Can I come riding with you Padfoot?”
Having evolved the maternal superpower to hear one’s child’s dangerous ideas from miles away, Lily’s voice answered from the kitchen, “Absolutely not.”
Lily Evans appeared in the intersection between the kitchen and living room, in oversized plaid pajamas that were dusted in a layer of flour, a batter covered whisk in her hand.
“Oh come on Lils, it’s safe.”
“But mu-um.” Harry whined.
“No. Absolutely not.” Lily repeated.
“It’s not any more dangerous than a broom.” Sirius insisted.
“Exactly, I don’t want him on a broom either.”
Remus snorted. “Good luck with that one.” Sirius sighed and looked back at Harry mournfully.
“Sorry Haz, looks like we lost this one.” Harry flung his head back dramatically, letting out the biggest James Potter Sigh imaginable.
Remus eyed Lily and her flour smattered face carefully. “How’s it going in there?”
“Well, James finally figured out how to work the stove, but we can’t get the batter right. And I think we may have used salt instead of sugar in the marmalade.” Cooking breakfast the muggle way had become a Lily and James Potter Christmas Tradition since their seventh year, when Lily first came to the Potter’s for Christmas, after getting in a fight with her sister the summer before. The Potter’s had been absolutely enamored by Lily’s muggle traditions, and thus the no-magic-christmas-breakfast was born. Unfortunately, for the Potter’s and their Christmas house guests, Lily was a talent at many things, but cooking was not one of them. And James only seemed to exaggerate the problems.
“Do you want my help?” Remus asked, and Lily nodded quickly.
“Please.” Fortunately, for the Potter’s and their Christmas house guests, Remus Lupin was a fine cook and also a hopeless pushover, thus creating their second Christmas tradition: remus-takes-over-and-saves-breakfast-and-christmas.
Moments after Remus followed Lily into the kitchen, a remiss James Potter emerged from the kitchen, wearing the same plaid pajama set as Lily (and somehow even more flour) and flopped down stomach first on the couch.
“Moony and Evans kicked me out.” James sighed.
“Honestly I’m surprised they let you stay this long.” Sirius snickered.
“I can’t believe it, Pads! Betrayed by my own wife and best friend.” James rolled over onto his back. “And I was really getting it this time.”
“Really? Lily said you put salt in the marmalade.”
“They look the same!” James exclaimed.
“What’s marma-mar-me-lade?” Harry asked.
“It’s orange jam.”
“Yuck! I hate oranges.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes I do! They’re squiggly!”
“Squiggly?” James asked.
“Well it doesn’t matter now, since your dad salted the batch.”
“I did it for you Harry.” James said mournfully, which made Harry giggle. “I suppose we’ll just have to eat a jamless breakfast now.” Harry laughed harder at his father’s theatrics.
“Too bad we don’t have a time-turner.” Sirius mused. “You might actually be able to make a decent breakfast that way.” He shot James a grin.
“Hey! If it weren’t for your Meddling Moony I might actually have a chance to hone my skills.”
“If it weren’t for my Meddling Moony we’d be eating salty jam for breakfast.” James opened his mouth to huff out a response, but was beaten to it.
“Do you think Santa has a time-turner?” Harry pondered, interrupting the jesting.
“Uh” Said James
“Er” Said Sirius.
“Why would Santa have a time-turner?”
“So he can go to all the houses in one night.” Harry said, like it was obvious.
James sat up, “Santa doesn’t need a time-turner to get to all the houses.”
“Well then how does he do it?” Harry asked.
“How does who do it?”
“ Santa .”
“He’s magic.”
“Duh.” Harry said. “But what magic? What’s the spell?” Harry asked. James fumbled, he should have just agreed to the time-turner thing. Santa could have a time-turner.
“He probably uses the floo network.” Sirius came to James’ rescue. Right, the floo network, in the fireplace, of course Santa would use the floo, James exhaled in relief.
“But our floo’s private.”
“Well maybe he-uh.” James looked at Sirius desperately for an explanation. Perhaps James allowed Santa into the wards. Surely that would be a reasonable enough explanation for his four year old son. Surely, Harry wouldn’t ask him when he’d met Santa. Surely, Harry wouldn’t notice that this didn’t actually answer his original question. Surely, Harry would accept his father’s answers and not continue to question anything he said. James filled with dread. If there was one thing he knew for certain about his son was that he’d inherited his mother’s whip smart intellect and James’ own persistence which resulted in a perfect storm of never dropping anything ever.
Harry looked expectantly, waiting for James’ answer. This was it: Harry’s childhood was over, all because James wasn’t quick enough to come up with a good enough explanation for Santa’s time defying powers. Harry’s gaze diverted however, distracted by Remus Lupin reappearing in the living room. James swooned, his hero.
“Gentlemen.” Remus started, “I am pleased to inform you that Christmas breakfast is finally ready.” Remus removed an imaginary hat and took a deep bow. Harry popped up.
“Finally!” He said with an exasperated sigh, and sprinted off toward the kitchen. James flopped back on the couch, relief spreading that Harry’s belief was safe for now.
Christmas Eve 1985
The fire crackled brightly, blanketing the Potter’s living room with warm light. Lily Evans sat curled into the corner of the sofa with a steaming cup of mulled wine in hand, other hand carding through her husband's hair. Remnants of the night’s Christmas party lingered across the room. Assorted and half drunk glasses filled the mantle, tinsel that Mary had pulled from the tree was strewn across the floor. A sufficiently drunk Sirius Black sprawled across the floor next to the fireplace nursing a glass of fire whiskey and animatedly retelling a story from their fifth year.
“-and then Peter walked in on Amelia Bones.”
“No it wasn’t Amelia, it was Emmaline Vance.” James insisted.
“Was it? No because the next day at breakfast Amelia came up to Pete and said-said-“ Sirius lost his footing, straining to remember his story.
“‘If you ever dare that again I’ll turn your prick into a flobberworm.’” James and Lily supplied in unison, having heard the story dozens of times over the years. “it was definitely Vance.” Lily confirmed.
“You’re lucky Pete went home, he hates that story.” James said sleepily.
“I know, that’s why I keep telling it.” Sirius cackled to himself. He lifted his glass and upon finding it empty a look of remorse sprang across his face.
The look was replaced with a grin when Remus emerged at the bottom of the staircase. “Harry is finally asleep.” He said with a satisfied sigh.
“Saint Moony has saved us again.” Lily sang.
James lifted his head an inch, “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Moony.”
“Saint Moony, my glass is empty.” Sirius said forlornly.
“Yes love, I can see that.” Remus smiled gently at Sirius who held out his glass to him expectantly. Remus plucked the glass up and added it to the collection on the mantle before plopping down on the floor next to Sirius.
Sirius frowned. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Sorry, if you want more go get it yourself.” Sirius turned and dropped his head onto Remus’ shoulder.
“You’re the worst, you know that? I despise you.”
“Yes, dear I know.” Remus laughed.
“Do you think people liked the party?” Lily asked suddenly.
“Of course they did.” James supplied easily. People had liked the party. It reminded James of the old days, of the parties they used to throw in the Gryffindor common room after won quidditch matches or on sixteenth birthdays or sometimes just on Tuesdays, for no reason at all. Of course now they were all grown ups, which meant their parties had more alcohol and no one around to bust them, but also they were all grown ups now, which meant guests started trickling home around eleven, until only the permanent residence remained.
“Well Haz certainly had a good time.” Sirius remarked. “He was the life of the goddamn party that one.” Another change, from their time at Hogwarts, was their newest addition. And it wasn’t just Harry, their friends were slowly adding to the mix as well. The Longbottoms and Prewitts had brought along their children, and Marlene had stuck to water throughout the night due to her growing baby bump. They’d sat around discussing the latest Wizengamot decisions and chased the children on toy broomsticks, so perhaps a lot had changed, since the parties of their childhood. Though no one could find themselves too upset about it.
“He takes after his father.” James said. It was true, Harry loved the party. He loved meeting new people, or meeting people he’d met before and pretending they were new people. He’d started a vivacious conversation with Pandora Lovegood about the differences between muggle and wizard chocolate, and took to playing some elaborate game of tag with Gideon Prewitt that lasted throughout the night.
“You two have created a monster, I hope you know that.” Remus laughed.
“Absolute nightmare.” Sirius agreed, grinning widely.
“I knew giving him those fizzing candies was a mistake. I thought he’d be up for hours.” Lily sighed.
“He’s a Potter at a party, what did you expect?” Sirius said, then looked around for his wand, which had rolled nearly into the fireplace. Sirius summoned a bottle of fire whiskey, which hit him squarely in the chest. “Oof” he winced at it.
“I’m worried Harry has figured out the Santa thing.” James said suddenly, sounding overly morose.
“Really? Why?”
“All year he’s been asking questions ‘How does Santa do this?’ ‘How does Santa do that?’ I think he knows.” James said mournfully. “Plus, he did catch me putting presents under the tree two years ago.”
“What?” Lily said in surprise. “You never told me that.”
“Well I thought I fixed it.”
“Do you really think it’s a big deal? It’s just a story Jamie.” Sirius asked. Sirius had never believed in Santa. The Black family would never degrade themselves by playing into the whims of fairy tales.
“He’s too young!” James said. “Santa is part of the magic of Christmas.”
“You know, when I first found out about magic, I thought Santa might be real.” Lily said wistfully.
Remus looked up. “He is, actually. Or well was. There was actually a guy named Saint Nicholas, although not the actual Saint Nicholas, he was much earlier, and to the best of my knowledge, not a wizard. But anyway, there was actually a wizard in Norway who delivered presents to people on a flying sleigh, but it was just like to the surrounding villages, not the whole world. Also he died like, two hundred years ago, so.” Remus trailed off.
“What?” Lily said. “No one ever told me that!”
“Yeah, I mean, obviously if he were still around parents would know, since they’d notice any unaccounted presents, but he did exist.”
“Great story Moony, but it doesn’t actually help my problem. What if Harry figures it out?”
“Well Prongs, you could always go up on the roof and stomp your hooves around.” Remus snickered. James popped up to a seated position.
“That’s it!”
“What? No- James I was joking.”
“It’s brilliant Moony, why did I never think of that. I’ll transform, and then we can-Pads can slap on a glamor and pretend to be Santa. Yes!” James continued. Lily sighed and stood from the couch.
“And that’s my cue to go to bed, I want no part in your shenanigans.”
“Oh come on Lils, we could have you-“
“Nope! I’m going to bed.” She kissed James atop the head. “Don’t fall off the roof.” She called after them.
Despite Remus’ skeptical protesting, they hatched a plan. Equipped with magically amplified jingle bells, Remus apparated to the roof (because he was the only one sober enough to do so). James applied several layers of quick transfiguration charms to Sirius, changing his clothes into long red robes and turning his hair white. Sirius stuffed a big pillow underneath his shirt and transfigured the pillow case to look like a large brown sack (Sirius’ Santa impression wouldn’t fool anyone, but it was good enough for three half-drunk Marauders) Then James went to Harry’s room, as Remus began to stomp around with the jingling bells. (The deer plan had been nixed, since James really wanted Harry to see himself and Santa in the same room together, to really sell it, you know?).
“Harry. Pssst, Harry wake up.” James gently shook his son awake.
“Dad?”
“Do you hear that?” James asked. “I think there’s someone on the roof.” James said in an excited whisper. Harry’s face pulled into a scrunched look of confusion, then he perked up.
“Santa?” James nodded.
“Should we go downstairs, try and catch a glimpse of him?” James asked. Harry nodded fervently and followed his father down the stairs.
“Shhh” James said at Harry’s stomping feet. “We don’t want to wake your mother.” Harry’s gate slowed to a gentle step.
Downstairs, in front of the roaring fire, Santa Claus shuffled near the tree. James grabbed his son’s shoulder and shook him excitedly. Harry gasped. Santa looked up and locked eyes with Harry.
“Merry Christmas, Harry” Santa said in a booming false baritone then disappeared in a pop of apparition ( Remus had been rather concerned with Sirius’ intention to apparate in his sobering, but still drunken state, though Sirius had insisted that he could ‘make it 50 feet to the outside of the house Moony’)
James gave a shocked look at his son, “I can’t believe we caught him!” Harry was giggling. “We better get to bed before he changes his mind about the presents.” James said, referencing Harry’s rule about not peeking at the presents.
Christmas Morning 1985
On Christmas morning a groggy (hungover) Sirius Black trudged down the stairs, a hand in his mussed up bed head. Behind him came a bounding Remus Lupin, who lunged at Sirius from behind, wrapping him in a wobbly hug.
“Morning Prongs, Mrs. Prongs, Prongs Jr, Happy Christmas!” Remus sang, Sirius recoiled.
“Do you have to shout right in my ear, Moony?”
“Sorry, love.” Moony said, kissing Sirius on the cheek, looking not too sorry about anything.
“Lily, please tell me that coffee cup has a hangover potion in it.” Lily nodded and held a red and white candy cane mug out to Sirius, who scampered out of Remus’ grip and to the floor next to Lily. Sirius took a large gulp of the potion, basking in relief as the pounding in his head subsided.
“Ah, much better. Happy Christmas Lils.”
“Mum, can I try some of your magic tea?” Harry asked.
“No Harry, this drink is for grown ups who have too much pumpkin juice.” Harry sagged. “But how about some hot chocolate?”
“With cream?”
“Yes Harry, with cream.”
“Okay! Thanks Mum.”
“I’ll get it.” James hopped to his feet and towards the kitchen.
“Should we let him?” Remus asked, eyes glancing between Lily and the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, I put some under a stasis charm yesterday, all he has to do is not drop it on the way back from the kitchen.” Lily said, which, to be fair, was not a given.
But James returned, levitating five full mugs in front of him.
“Okay quickly, before I lose my balance.” James said, and everyone reached out to retrieve a mug.
“Now that we’re all properly hydrated, let us commence with the present opening!” James said, “Haz, why don’t you go ahead and see what Santa brought you.” Harry perked up from his hot chocolate, whipped cream mustache gracing his face, and started for the tree.
That year Santa brought Harry two books on dragons, one with real pictures of dragons, and another muggle storybook that Lily thought would be a fun learning experience, but James was quite confused as to why she’d want to get him a book of lies. Santa also brought Harry enchanted block set that never ran out of blocks (and was also enchanted so that they could not be stepped on, but Harry was less concerned with that), and a practice potion kit. He also received a brand new vinyl record player that Sirius made sure Harry knew was not from Santa, but in fact from himself and Moony, and it was about time Harry began taking his musical education seriously (the pun intended).
“I can’t believe Santa got me my very own potion set! Soon I’ll be as good as mommy at potions!” Harry said, hugging his father brightly. James was filled with relief and pride for successfully reinstating his son’s faith in Father Christmas.
“Wait! Pads! There’s a present for you too!” Harry said, scampering over to the and pulling out a crinkly present from the very back. Harry presented it two handedly to Sirius.
“It’s from Santa!” Harry said brightly, and indeed, scrawled across the package, in the unmistakable crooked handwriting of a new writer was the word ‘ Satna’. Sirius’ eyes widened in surprise and looked back to smiling Harry.
“Well open it!” Harry said, laughing. Sirius obliged, carefully pulling apart the wrapping paper to reveal a small, model Hogwarts Express, that looked suspiciously like the one Harry had himself.
Sirius eyed Harry skeptically, as it seemed their plot to reinstate Harry’s faith in Santa had failed after all. Somehow, Harry had managed to capture the spirit of Santa better than the three marauders ever could have. Misty eyed, Sirius pulled his godson into a hug, and soon James joined in, followed by Lily and Remus, until their whole family dissolved into a giggling group hug.
See, there comes a time in all children’s life, when they stop believing the tales of a jolly old man who flies through the sky in a reindeer drawn sleigh, delivering presents to all the children of the land. But for some, the magic never dies.