I was born into the most remarkable and eccentric family I could possibly have hoped for.
- Maureen O'Hara
Chapter 11:
In Which People Prepare For A Very Potter Christmas
~ James ~
During his first year, James had decided that nothing was lovelier than the ride back home for Christmas on the Hogwarts Express. He could write poetry at that moment, to show his appreciation for the beauty of nature. Oh, how exquisite the sight was, how white the snow, how bright the cold, winter sun!
Finally the screams began. He grinned at Fred and nodded in satisfaction.
“It worked,” he announced.
“Merlin’s beard, it did work!”
The Metron sisters screamed some more, as frantic bats sprung out of their expensive-looking bags. The boys watched them from a dark corner, as they run out of their compartment, tossing one of the bags from one to another, saying, “You hold it!”
“No, you hold it!”
“No, Lesley, it is your bag, your problem!”
“Well, you have to help me get rid of them, since you left your bag inside for the boys to take care of!” Lesley demanded in a high-pitched voice.
“Because I am smarter than you, that’s why!” Eleanor snapped back.
“What do I do, what do I do?” Lesley said, hopping from foot to foot as if her shoes were on fire. Bats kept on coming out endlessly and flew close to the ceiling in a fit of panic. James was mindblown at how strong the enchantment turned out to be.
“Let’s blow them up and get this over with!”
Lesley nodded in agreement. The bag fell limply to the floor, with no more bats left to come out. Something caught her eye and while the bats fluttered above them, she searched through the bag. In the meantime Eleanor was preparing her wand. “Eleanor, no, don’t!” she shouted over the winged mammals’ screeching, her eyes wide with shock.
“And why wouldn’t I? Did you change your mind? Want to bring them back to mother perhaps?”
“They’re my things! My bag is empty! My things have been transformed into bats!”
Eleanor’s eyes grew as big as tennis balls. She recognized a purple, satin strap that hung from a bat in the place of its right leg; the strap belonged to one of her sister’s favourite shirts.
“We need to turn them back!” Lesley whined.
“You need to turn them back. I have to save my belongings from the doofuses I left them with! If they have done anything to my new shoes…!” Eleanor growled and ran back to her compartment.
Lesley looked at the bats helplessly with watery eyes, as more screams and shouts came out the compartment her twin had entered.
“Messing with those two never gets old,” Fred whispered satisfied.
“Do you think we should tell them the spell only lasts for fifteen minutes?” James said, feeling a pang of guilt as he looked at Lesley’s crying face. A tiny bubble of snot peeked from her right nostril. He had never seen her so distraught.
Fred shrugged. “Want my opinion? She will realize it soon enough; seven minutes have already passed and she’s doing nothing but sniffle at them, so as long as no windows open for the bats to fly away, she’s good. Also, if you go she’ll know it was us and will chase you down the hallway, spitting every jinx she has learned in her mean, Slytherin life.”
James’s eyes widened at the realization. “Sounds about right. I don’t want her to do that.” No matter what impression he wanted to give to others, he still remained a year younger than Fred and the Metron twins and therefore with a considerably poorer repertoire of jinxes and counter-jinxes. Christmas was not the kind of holiday he wished to spend in St. Mungo’s.
The two boys returned to their seats and were making plans about what they would do together once they met before the New Year’s Eve at the Burrow, when other second-year Gryffindors joined them, exchanging their last “Merry Christmas” wishes before the train entered Kings Cross Station.
James hopped off the train and easily located his parents. They weren’t easy to miss; it seemed as if everyone had given them some respectable space in the platform, as usual. Uncle Ron was there with them and judging from the grin on Lily’s face, he was telling her one of his ridiculous jokes.
“See my Dad anywhere?” Fred asked, stretching on his toes and looking through the crowd.
“No, but let’s go to my parents, they might know.”
Albus and Rose came out from a compartment closer to them and reached them first, attacking the adults with obviously asphyxiating hugs. Once Uncle Ron spotted the two boys he let go of Rose and waved at them. “Oh, Freddy, here you are! Go get Roxanne, your Dad was busy at the shop, so I’ll drop you off there.”
“By car?” Fred asked in pretended terror.
Ron took the bait. “Of course by car! now go or I’ll tell Grandma Molly about that garden gnome goo you put in her casserole last year!”
“Aye aye, sir!” Fred said and made a 360 back to the crowd.
“There he is!” Ginny said, pulling him to a hug so quickly he almost bashed his head against Albus’s.
“Hi, Mum. I missed you too.” Ginny continued hugging him tightly. “You know, these public exhibitions of family affection need to stop, or my reputation will be ruined,” he said in a half-muffled voice against his mother’s knit jumper. She chuckled at released him. Freedom at last!
“James!” Lily squealed excitedly and jumped on his back, forcing an “Oomph,” out of him.
“Wow, Lils, are you getting heavier?” he teased, making a turn with his sister on his back.
“Not heavier! I’m a growing lady, I can only get taller at this age!” she retorted, unfazed by her brother’s typical humour.
“We’ve been off sweets for a few months now, James. Lily is looking forward to Grandma Molly’s Christmas cake,” Harry said. James took the hint. Don’t look in the jar over the fridge, we have no secret stash at the moment.
Fred came back with his sister, both of them flushed as if they were running away from someone. “Everyone ready? Shall we go?” Fred asked anxiously.
“I’m ready when you are,” Ron said, making a gesture towards the exit of the platform.
“They figured it out, didn’t they?” James whispered at Fred.
His cousin nodded solemnly. “And Eleanor’s new shoes didn’t make it.”
“Oh, for the love of Merlin!” James exclaimed. Harry looked at him curiously, but James grinned in a very disconcerting way. Harry turned around, deciding it was best for some things to be left unknown.
“Pray that she gets enough new shoes to forget about it during the holidays. Or else we’re screwed.”
* * * * *
“Whaaaaaaat?!” James demanded, for the fifteenth time in the last five minutes.
“Just for how long do you plan to do that?” Albus grumbled.
“But, it seems so strange! You with glasses! You’ll be a mini clone of Dad!”
“Don’t remind me…” Albus’s head slumped against the mahogany table, looking as if he had been condemned to spend a lifetime with Sirius’s mom’s portrait in his bedroom.
“But you know, glasses add an air of sophistication. The same person can look smarter with glasses than he does without them.” James decided teasing was not the appropriate approach at that moment. Glasses had been the absolute humiliation for Albus, after seeing how a Muggle friend of his was treated at school when he showed up one day with glasses.
“I will tell you what I told Neville: the only pair of glasses that I’d like, are the invisible ones!” A small thud came from Albus’s forehead as it touched the table again. James remained quiet, in deep contemplation. Albus took it as a reason to worry. “What? Whatever you’re thinking about, stop now.”
James shook his head with a gleam in his smart, blue eyes. “I think I just had the most brilliant idea. Let’s go ask Mum and Dad.”
* * * * *
“No, no, no, absolutely not!” Ginny said defiantly. “Albus Severus Potter, you are not wearing contact lenses at the age of eleven even if a new magical war descends upon us! That is not up for discussion! James, I don’t understand how you ever thought of something like that!”
James cowered slightly, recognizing a little part of Grandma Molly in his Mum. “Well, but shouldn’t you consider it, since Albus feels so bad about wearing glasses? I was only trying to be considerate for once!”
“If you don’t find a pair that you like, I can give you Mrs. Violet’s glasses, Al,” Lily offered sweetly, watching the argument from a comfortable distance on the couch. Al’s eyes widened in horror; Mrs. Violet was Lily’s favourite doll and had a hideous pair of fuchsia, butterfly-shaped, plastic glasses.
“Thanks, Lils,” Albus said meekly, knowing there was no way that was happening.
“Harry, would you say something to them?” Ginny asked for his support, because had stood silent all this time, with a hand to his chin.
“Your mother is right, boys, contacts are not for children. They hardly are for adults either. A lot of things can go wrong, and they’re much more uncomfortable than you might believe.”
“What about some kind of potion then? Something to fix them up in a magical way?” Albus moaned.
Harry looked at Ginny. “Sorry, buddy. I have never heard of any potion fixing eye conditions permanently.”
“I can drink it every day though, if there is something!”
Ginny sighed. “You never took your vitamins daily if I didn’t chase you down the house to make you.”
James snickered. “She’s got a point, you know.”
Al’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s side are you on, anyway?”
James raised his hands in defeat. “I am sorry, lovely folks, my brotherly duty is done, I said what needed to be said, and now I’ll be leaving your company to enjoy my first day of holidays!” he said and ran up the stairs to his room. An inconceivable remark was made by the covered portrait of a certain Black as he stomped past it, before he reached his door. He had left his mark there, hanging out a sign he had carved with Grandpa Arthur out of wood, saying “Gryffindors only, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs tolerated”. He had added the latter two after Roxanne was sorted to Ravenclaw and he realized he had shunned Teddy out of his room with excluding Hufflepuffs. He realized he should take that down altogether, now that Albus was a Slytherin.
He turned the brass doorknob, holding the sign under his armpit. His room was on the most part as he had left it on the first of September, except for the faint scent of lavender wafting from his freshly washed beddings. He came to realize that some papers atop of his desk were also slightly more organized, in three neat piles; one had letters, the other had old school notes and the third was just all the rest uncategorized papers he had abandoned there. He hoped Kreacher was the one who did that, because who knew how much of his secret plots had been revealed if - Merlin forbid! - his Mum had read his correspondence with Freddie.
James pulled out his chair to sit down, as he reached for his wand to put it on the desk. He picked up a drawing placed on the cushion of the chair, drawn by the distinctive style of square-chested males and triangle-waisted females, an obvious creation of his sister. On top of the paper it said “Merry Christmas! Love, Lily” and underneath was a group of three, two black-haired boys and an auburn-haired girl, against two brilliantly red-headed children, one boy and one girl, throwing snowballs at each other in front of a strange house decorated in festive garlands. The drawn people moved, taking a step or two back, collecting new snow from the ground and throwing it to each other; Lily had put to good use the magical markers Harry had bought her.
James sat down and watched the drawing for a while, as the tallest of the black-haired boys, representing himself, turned around and shook his butt at the drawings of Rose and Hugo. He chuckled when Albus knocked and without awaiting for a reply walked in. His eyes fell on the unhanged sign still under James’s armpit, but he did not comment on it.
“We are going to an ophthalmologist and then to buy the glasses. Do you want to come?”
James sat up straight. He had the feeling it wasn’t their parents who suggested it; Al wanted him there. “Of course I cannot let you go without my unparalleled expertise on the matter of the glasses. We can’t have you not choose any and have to wear Mrs. Violet’s,” he said with a smirk.
“Thanks.” Albus smiled, the smile of a soldier on his way to the front lines. You really are a drama queen, Al, James wanted to say, but knew there was a time for joking and that was not it. “What did Lily draw for you?”
James flashed his sister’s masterpiece at Albus. “She’s made me a rather funny guy, don’t you think?” he asked as drawing-James fell face-first in a pile of snow.
Albus laughed. “Yeah, she has.”
“What did she draw for you?”
“All of us sitting by the fireplace opening our presents, when Fawkes appears out of the fireplace, throwing ashes all over the place. Her Fawkes is really good.”
“Show me when we return,” he said, as they climbed down the stairs.
The family took the car for the short drive to the ophthalmologist, who confirmed that Albus was as blind as bats, as James subtly put it, and walked to an optometrist’s shop right across the corner. The selection process was slow and torturing, as Albus stared at his reflection with a pained expression, taking off one pair as he rejected it, to move on to rejecting the next one.
He had tried everything, round and square glasses, thick and thin, metal, plastic, even a wooden pair and one made of jeans! For the love of Merlin, what was crossing those muggles’ minds when they made those? James wondered. They discovered that red was not Al’s colour and same went for blue, so they narrowed it down to green and black, which were the only colours Al was more prone to accepting.
In the end Harry looked like he suffered from a headache, Ginny was incredibly unsettled by Al’s indecision and even energetic Lily weary and uninterested. Albus eventually concluded to a simple rectangular pair of dark green glasses, the colour of pine-needles. James gave an approving nod when Albus looked at him, hoping he didn’t look as eager as he felt to be done with it. The optometrist took some final measurements about the center of the lenses and informed that they would be ready by tomorrow noon.
James had never been so glad to see the light of day again.
* * * * *
Number 12 Grimmauld Place buzzed with holiday glee, spreading across the Potters like an infectious disease. Bowls clanked and mixers swooshed as Harry prepared the dough for cookies with Lily. Ginny sat on the chair, enjoying the sight of her husband and daughter doing the cooking instead of her; she wasn’t much of a cook anyway and was glad that Harry was willing to take up this tedious to her task in the house.
Kreacher lingered nearby, polishing some silverware from a short counter at the corner. He didn’t look as gruff as he once was; one wouldn’t call him a ray of sunshine either though. He was loyal to the family and a great help as far as housework was concerned, but he was cautious, especially around this time of the year.
James knew that maybe he was to blame for that - it had been year after year that he tried to dress him as Santa’s Christmas elf after all.
“Have you seen Al?” Harry asked his eldest son. “I know he likes to lick the leftovers from the cookie dough.”
“Must be in his room.” Albus had spent a lot of time in his room after buying his new glasses. They stood out against his pale face and he didn’t like it very much. He knew they were not going to go unnoticed at the school. He didn’t say that out loud though; instead he said he had to finish his Silvio Trizzle book, which he could not at Hogwarts.
“Go get him if you can.”
James got to his feet lazily and climbed up the stairs. “Al! Al!” he called from the semi-floor, hoping he wouldn’t have to climb up the rest of the way up. He frowned at the lack of response and continued. He found his brother sitting on the ledge of his window, his barn owl perched on his knee. James absolutely loved this owl and approved his brother’s choice, even though he had never said that out loud.
“Hey,” Albus said, without turning to look at him. The owl turned its head, abnormally more than any animal should. Its round black eyes devoid of any emotion. That’s why he liked barn owls so much. Screech owls looked always surprised and horned owls angry; barn owls were putting a poker-face on.
“Good birdie,” he said, wiggling two fingers in front of the owl.
“I’m calling her Octavia,” Albus explained.
James nodded. “There’s some dough left on the mixer if you want it.”
Albus stroked the nape of Octavia’s neck, who bent her head back and gave out a little noise of pleasure. He wore the glasses, but he probably was trying not to think about it.
“Come on, Lils will eat it for you if you take your sweet time!”
He felt the urgency at that moment and hurried down. Octavia, disturbed by the sudden movements, flew away, perching herself at the top of Albus’s bookcase. Ginny smiled at them as they came down and gave a compliment to him about his glasses, much to his dismay. He cheered up considerably though since he ate some of the dough.
Lily dragged her brothers along in a mess of flour and dough, to shape cookies in the shape they liked. She smacked James straight on the head when he made one that was “Obviously hippogriff poo!”
Once the cookies were shaped and into the oven, Harry said, “Teddy will be coming over tonight. He and Andromeda will stay with us until Christmas.”
“Kreacher, could you prepare the guest room?” Ginny asked, and Kreacher got on his feet, leaving his current task only half-done.
“Just for Teddy’s grandma, Kreacher!” James called after him. “Teddy will sleep with me!”
Harry lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”
James put a smug look on. “Men’s business, all agreed beforehand,” was the only cryptic answer he gave.
* * * * *
To kill their time until it was 10’o clock, the appointed time of Teddy’s arrival, James had gone up to the attic, bringing Albus along. Lily had let them go on their own, to talk to Hugo on the phone.
The attic of the Black residence was a curious place of mysteries and wonders. It was almost impossible to sort out and therefore there was always something more to discover. The Potters had learned it the hard way, trying to organize the top floor for the past fifteen years, since they had moved to 12 Grimmauld Place as a married couple.
There were wooden crates piled in one side, farthest from the windows, marked with a logo with a unicorn, which their mother had said that was an expensive shop of Wizarding Houseware named Monoceros Maison. The Blacks had obviously been faithful customers to have had so many crates. But also rather clumsy or hot tempered wizards, to require so much chinaware for a single household, James thought.
“What do you think we will discover this time?” James asked, thrilled at the possibilities.
“Not shrunken skulls if that’s what you’re hoping for,” Albus said. James tsked in disappointment. But it was a bitter truth he already knew; shrunken skulls were not the sort of refined magical artifact the stuck up Blacks would have appreciated. “Look at that,” he said, casting lumos with his wand at a mountain of crates in the midst of the attic, towering up to the highest part of the ceiling. Some of them at the bottom were wooden, marked with a scratchy handwriting saying “Gryffindor Property! Hands off!”, some higher up made of thick cardboard, and amongst them an average sized chest, with the Black family motto inscribed on it. Toujours Pur it read and it was the only French phrase that James knew the meaning of; Always Pure. Despite his Aunt Fleur’s attempts to teach him, he had not learned a lick of French besides that.
“That’s odd,” James agreed. “I wonder how Mrs. Black left this mountain standing in the middle of her attic, especially the Gryffindor crates on the bottom.”
“Do you think it’s Sirius’s?” Albus asked. He kneeled down and ran a finger across the words, practically burned onto the wood. “Ah!” he exclaimed and pulled his hand back in pain. His wand fell from his hand, clinking against the floorboards. They got wrapped in darkness.
James hurried to light up his own wand and kneeled next to Albus, who was clutching his palm. “What happened?”
From the corner of Albus’s eye ran a small teardrop. “It burned me!” he cried. He took a few slow breaths and unwrapped his fingers, revealing his reddened palm. “I think it’s fading though.” About a minute passed that the boys waited and Albus said that his hand hurt no more.
“My turn,” James said, rolling up his sleeves and preparing for the worst.
“No! Are you stupid?”
“Well, let’s see just how cursed these boxes are,” James said easily, dismissing his brother’s worry with just a shrug of his shoulders. He placed his hand on the crate and waited. One, two, three… “Nope, nothing yet.” Five, six… “Not feeling it.”Eight, nine… twenty five. “Are we sure it’s the right one?”
Albus frowned, his new glasses casting strange shadows over his face. The two of them had spent countless hours in the darkness, searching through strange things - sometimes willingly and some other times not - but such a sight of Albus was unfamiliar. “That’s it, no mistaking it,” he confirmed.
“Oh, well. I suppose it just doesn’t like you then.”
Albus glared at him, a motion invisible in the luminescence of James’s wand. “That must be it…” he murmured.
“Sirius cursed his things to not like the second son of his godson? Right! Oh, actually that may be! Your middle name is Severus after all!”
Albus shook his head. “You’re absurd.” James paused, impressed by the speed which Albus had recovered from the teasing - if he had in fact been affected at all by it. He was turning into a tough nut. “No, no, that’s not it. It doesn’t have to do with me personally, not with my name either, Sirius would not even dream of me having that name. It’s because I’m a Slytherin!”
“You’re saying this as if it is a good thing.”
His green eyes were narrowed in two thin slits. “I will pretend I didn’t hear that. That’s why Mrs. Black didn’t clear out the boxes. She couldn’t touch them, because the crates say ‘Gryffindor’ property. He made a charm so only Gryffindors could touch them.”
“She could just use some charm instead of touching them,” James retorted.
Albus smirked and picked up his wand from the floor, casting wingardium leviosa at the crate. There was a spark and an unseen force knocked him back, once more his wand leaving his hand. “I need to stop proving my point to you this way,” he muttered.
“Oh, why? I find it immensely entertaining.” James crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the pile. “Kreacher then, she’d have Kreacher move them.”
His brother rolled his eyes. “House elves are not sorted to Hogwarts, therefore they’re not Gryffindor or any other House.”
“Fine, you win,” James admitted defeat, unable to find anything else wrong with Albus’s theory. “So, what do we do with them now?”
Albus shrugged. “I can’t probably do anything. Seemed interesting, but I won’t char my skin off to play around with Sirius’s stuff.”
“I don’t expect him to have enchanted the contents the same way. Probably just the crates so that no one could throw them away.” Al shrugged and sat cross-legged on the ground. He cast lumos again to offer some additional light, while his brother dismantled the tower of crates and spread them around the floor. “Look at that! A photo album! We should take that down to Dad! It’s got photos of his Dad and Teddy’s Dad too!”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea? He’ll know we were up here.”
James grinned. “Well, duh! He probably has figured it out already, we’re making too much noise! But he’ll forget all about it once he starts looking at the photos. He always gets so sentimental about those things.”
Albus nodded. James continued digging through the crate and found Sirius’s old robes and scarves, a couple of Gryffindor flags and socks, a bright, flame red pair, probably as some kind of joke. He set that box aside. The next three contained his school handbooks, which held not particular interest, except the ones for History of Magic which had drawn mustaches and horns and all kinds of other things on every single of the historical people pictured inside. James set specifically those aside, thinking about switching them with his own and closed them to move on to the next ones. The cardboard boxes contained mostly things such as mugs, glasses, a worn out lamp, blankets and more belongings that Sirius had probably accumulated while staying away from his family home.
The one that followed looked more promising. It contained a motorcycle helmet, with the face of a mountain troll drawn on it, a black, leather jacket and leather gloves. James pondered on taking them downstairs to his closet, but wondered if Mum would confiscate them if she saw them. He decided to let them safely hidden in the crate for now, but he pushed a rusty nail into the wood, marking this crate to tell it apart when the time came to find them.
Only the chest remained, which was black and silver, in a rather good shape, considering its age. There was an indentation for a key, but to their good luck, there was no need for it. Sirius had thought his charms were enough to keep it from his mother’s claws.
“Just some notebooks,” James said disappointed.
“They look interesting.” Albus leaned down to look at them and his glasses slid a little down his nose.
James snorted. “Whatever you say. Oh, well, since that’s the last one… Do you want me to take the chest to your room, or just take out your little notebooks?” he said, somewhat mockingly.
Albus shrugged. “Maybe also the chest. It would look nice in my room.”
“Very well then. You take the album and the books with you.” They stomped down the stairs, the sound absorbed by the thick carpets of the residence, but still giving a feeling of something like a herd of centaurs crossing by. “There you go,” James said, setting the chest on Al’s empty bedstand. “I’m leaving it open, since you can’t touch it.” Al nodded and handed him over the books.
Al glanced at the clock over his bed. “Whoa, it’s only ten to ten! When did it get so late?”
James grinned. “Well, that’s the point of searching through the attic. To kill our time.”
* * * * *
Teddy was welcomed by a surge of endless talking, news that flowed out James’s mouth at a speed that no human being would ever be able to comprehend fully. Luckily, Harry came to his rescue, covering James’s mouth and chuckling as he dragged him in the house, making space so the visitors could also enter.
Ginny exchanged pleasantries with Andromeda and they headed to the living room, where a James of endless excitement followed, dragging Teddy along. “Oh, and we found this album… you’ll go crazy when you see it! You too, Dad! It was stuck in a box in the attic, with Sirius’s things! Al, bring it down!”
“You were in the attic?” Harry asked astonished.
“Where did you think all this ruckus came from?” Ginny asked dryly. “I hope it is not left as if a bomb went off up there.”
“No, no, absolutely not, Mum,” James hurried to answer, although he wasn’t sure. Is it? Hell if I remember.
Albus galloped down the stairs with a big book in his hands and he landed in the sofa between his Dad and Teddy, taking the seat James had wanted. He said nothing and came to stand behind the couch over his brother’s head to look at the album.
“Oh, it’s from the time they went to school!” Harry said. “How did this one get away, Gin?”
“Don’t be so surprised. This attic will spit out undiscovered treasures until the end of eternity.”
Andromeda smirked. “I get the feeling you don’t like this attic all that much.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t like it at all. It somehow fits almost as many things as the Burrow and the Burrow has a lot of things.”
“I’m thinking renting an apartment. Something not enchanted for a change,” Teddy chimed in.
“Oh, can we come visit when you do?” James asked, leaning on Albus’s shoulders. His brother scowled but he paid him no mind.
“Of course. As soon as you are out of school. I think I will have moved in by then.”
James smirked. “Is Victoire moving in with you?” He made kissing sounds, and Ted’s hair turned tomato red in response.
“You little…”
“Yes?” James urged on, skipping to the buffet where the tray of the freshly baked cookies rested. He bit into the head of a unicorn cookie Lily had made.
“James Sirius, no sweets before dinner!” Ginny said, as James ran down a hallway, Teddy running after him.
* * * * *
Christmas Eve dawned in the Potter household a little earlier than the average British, at 07:05 on the dot. That was the longest James could stay in bed, silent, willing himself not to wake up the everyone. Of course he woke everyone in the end, even Kreacher who slept in the service room behind the kitchen.
Teddy crawled out of bed with dark circles under his eyes - the side effects of pulling an all-nighter with James and being roused too early; Teddy had always enjoyed his sleep and after graduating, he had never woken up before noon.
James sprawled himself on the carpet right before their Christmas tree, which was decorated by enchanted wooden angels whose wings fluttered to keep them in the air, and stared at the presents, too many too count, each addressed to a different person, of the family and the visitors, and one even to their house elf, whom Harry wanted to treat as part of the family. Lily sat on James’s back, staring at the wrapped presents in the exact same way as her brother, as if willing them to unwrap themselves magically.
She had actually done that once, on her sixth birthday. It had spoiled the surprise of midnight though.
Albus came down, a fist rubbing his eye, his glasses moving up and down with the motion of his hand. He smiled at the sight of them and went to sit in front of the tree next to his siblings.
“Is it just me, or the Potter kids are getting stranger every year?” Teddy asked, scratching his stomach over his shirt. His grandmother stood next to him, already a perfect lady, fully dressed and her hair pulled to a loose bun, ready to begin the Christmas dinner preparations.
“Is it just me, or have I raised you to become ruder every year?” she shot back and Ted chuckled as he followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Do you think the big one could be mine?” Albus asked. There was this thing about the Potters’ Christmas presents: they weren’t addressed to their real recipient until the clock struck midnight. It had started out of James’s impatience to open his all too early, but after so many years it had become a family tradition. The children could spend hours making wild guesses about which present belonged to whom.
“Nah, absolutely not. Too big. Probably some dollhouse for Lils.”
Lily let out an excited yip and bounced on James’s back.
“Definitely getting heavier, Lils! Whoever told you you’re just growing up, lied to you!” he groaned in complaint. Lily got up and dropped her weight on top of him again. “She’s a little piglet, isn’t she?”
Albus chose to stay neutral. He needed no pranks from James this Christmas, but also no chasing from Lily asking him if she really got fat.
“I think,” James continued, “that your present is that!” He pointed at the tiniest package below the tree, barely visible compared to all the rest, with the vivid wrappings and impressive ribbons.
He laughed. “Oh, I think not. It is most obvious this is yours.”
“Mine?” asked James. “Mine, why?”
“Because in such a little box can only fit a bell, like the ones cats wear. So we know when you’re coming to take cover.” Lily chuckled. Albus knew that was probably for Andromeda, some little piece of jewelry that their Mum would have chosen, but the joke had seemed too good to keep it for himself.
“Of all the evils that might have befallen you, Al, I think that there may have been a single thing Slytherin has made you better in. I like this version of you, it is like you’ve leveled up.”
“If it’s okay for Al to be in Slytherin, can I also go to Ravenclaw?” Lily asked suddenly. It was surprising, because she hardly ever spoke about what she wanted to do in Hogwarts to her brothers; she did spend hours discussing it with Hugo though.
“We’re already as strange as can be, so you even go to the moon if that’s what you want!”
* * * * *
Around noon Albus disappeared in his room again and no one had seen him, although midnight was nearing. The adults were sitting together talking - Teddy was not with them of course; he was still considered a boy in James’s eyes - so James took the opportunity to tell him all about the Transfiguration spell he had used in the Metron twins’ bags.
“Oh, if the Metron are anything like their older brother…” Teddy shook his head at the idea.
“They have an older brother?”
“And a sister. Horrid people.” Teddy leaned in, and whispered to James’s ear, “And ugly like mountain trolls.”
James shook his head. “The twins are pretty.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, compared to mountain trolls, you know. For Slytherins. For Slytherins they’re descent.” His face began to turn red, knowing Teddy would never let him live down the humiliation of calling not one but two Slytherins pretty. He got up. “No, don’t speak. You never heard me say that, I was never here. I’m just an illusion of your mind, I’m not here, you can’t see me!” He continued repeating the same things as he did a not-so-excellent retreat to the hallway. “Never had this conversation with you!” he called to the living room, his only response being Teddy’s booming laughter.
He continued walking backwards, not noticing he was not alone and almost stumbling onto his brother. Albus, who had seen him, held a hand to push him away and shooed him out of the room, cowering over the phone protectively. The Potters had a telephone, albeit an old one, to be able to work through the overwhelming amount of magic woven into 12 Grimmauld Place’s very foundations.
James skipped away from the phone and his brother, but could not resist the temptation of standing near the door to eavesdrop.
“Yeah, it’s amazing, I’m telling you! You’ll love it!” There was a pause. “Well, yes… yeah, there are notes. Now that I think about it they get a little confusing… yes, also about that. It will blow your mind. Best Christmas present, before I even get my Christmas present!” He let out a noise of excitement, quite similar to Lily’s girly squeals. “Oh, there are pictures also. You cannot imagine, just too awesome.” Another pause. “Okay, sure, see you in New Year’s Eve. Merry Christmas!” Once he hung up the phone, James made sure he vanished into thin air.
He had the feeling that was about the little notebooks, but he couldn’t look into Albus’s bedroom now, he could come up any moment now. Instead, he climbed one more floor, into his parents’ bedroom. It had been one of his favourite pastimes to go through their drawers - more often leaving signs than not - searching for anything interesting.
There was this one object that he desired to discovered more than anything. It would be the Holy Grail of pranksters, his very own God. The Marauders’ Map. He would find it one day, he knew it. But first, he had to discover where his Dad had hidden it. A sound came from the direction of the stairs. He shoved closed the sock drawer he was going through and slid out of the bedroom.
“James!” his Mum called from the stairs. He stepped into the light of the corridor; Ginny was out of her cooking apron, which she only wore on rare occasions such as festive meal preparations and wore nice clothes and a necklace. “Come downstairs, the Longbottoms arrived.”
“Archie too?” James asked. Archie was the oldest brother of Kate and had already graduated Hogwarts. Teddy always spoke about Archie the way James spoke about Teddy; so his Teddy’s “Teddy” so to say was quite the personality to visit his home.
“Of course Archie too, the whole family came. Even Hannah found someone to hold the pub for the night. Come along now.”
He would find the map one day; but today was not it.
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