Seasons' Greetings 2011 ♥ Stocking-Fillers
Main posting for the fest is over, but we'd like to encourage some Lily/James-themed holiday spirit while we've still got a few days more to Christmas proper. Thus, we present:
☃ STOCKING FILLERS ☃
We invite all fans of Lily/James to peruse our participants' WISH LISTS for Seasons' Greetings' 2011, and to submit stories/art/mixed media for any ( ( Read more... )
☃ STOCKING FILLERS ☃
We invite all fans of Lily/James to peruse our participants' WISH LISTS for Seasons' Greetings' 2011, and to submit stories/art/mixed media for any ( ( Read more... )
(Or, If Santa Went on a Diet and Had Better Looking Parents, He Might Almost Be as Incredible as James in a Santa Costume. But Probably not as Terrifying.)
Author: doraeazure
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Prompt: James has an idea on how to make Harry’s first Christmas special by dressing up as Santa by fwittney
Wordcount: 3,764
A/N: So this is kinda long. I tried to keep it short because it's a comment fic, but it ran away with me. Oh well. fwittney, this prompt was exactly the type of thing I like best to write. I hope there's enough fluff, humor, and James & Sirius banter for you!
James looked around his beloved little cottage with a critical eye. On the surface, everything looked perfect. The tree was up and fully decorated. The fairy lights and ornaments and a multitude of charms were evenly dispersed around the tree, just the way Lily liked. The star on top was perfectly straight, and it twinkled magically. The tree skirt Lily had made herself was tucked neatly around the base of the tree, and the presents were artfully arranged on top of it. There were garlands, and candles, and lights, and sprigs of holly everywhere. They were even wrapped around the banister and filling the second floor hallway.
In short, Lily had made sure that the entire cottage was beautifully festive.
Which was wonderful, really. Every November since their marriage, Lily had taken his hand and dragged him out to help her get a tree. Then, as soon as he’d gotten it set up for her, she’d pulled out boxes and boxes of Christmas cheer, and then she’d fill the house with it. James was never passive during this process. Every time Lily pulled out those boxes, James cheerfully volunteered to act as Lily’s house elf. He held garlands, and helped lift things, and went shopping for Christmas biscuit ingredients. He stuck his finger over the ribbon when Lily needed to tie a bow and he crawled under the tree when an ornament rolled out of reach beneath its branches. He stuck things to the wall with temporary sticking charms wherever his lovely wife directed, and he levitated various decorations for Lily’s inspection whenever she wanted to see how something would look before making a final decision. He even made Sirius help sometimes, and once had even managed to rope Remus into participating.
James was more than happy to be Lily’s slave. Especially since he reaped so many benefits from it. He nicked the dough from Lily’s mixing bowl and stuck his fingers in the icing. He snuck peeks at the presents and pestered Lily endlessly about where she’d hidden his. He tied mistletoe all over the house, and then jinxed it so that everyone was forced to abide by the “Rules of Mistletoe.” Mostly this benefited James directly, but sometimes it provided a great deal of entertainment value. Once, McGonagall had got stuck under one with Sirius, which had been absolutely hilarious right up until Sirius had given their former professor a sincere and respectful buss on one cheek, which McGonagall had repaid by allowing Sirius to escort her to the biscuit tray. (Lily had “awwwww”ed. James had only felt a sense of disgust at the amount of “cute” and of betrayal at his friend’s refusal to give him his desired entertainment.) Another time, Kingsley Shacklebolt had gotten stuck under one with tiny Alice soon-to-be-Longbottom. She had blushed badly when Kingsley had teased her fiancé about kissing the bride before the big day.
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He got to play soooooo many other pranks too. He snuck teensy stags in amongst all the garlands and ornaments and candles, and Lily didn’t even mind that he sometimes charmed them to tease the reindeer or charge up and down the banister. He occasionally hung the fairy lights upside down and charmed all the bells on the mantle to play “Silver bells” whenever Lily came into the room. He sometimes charmed the ribbon to slither away when Lily reached for it, or to cry piteously when she tied it in complicated bows (her response was to tell it to buck up; ribbons were meant to be tied on presents, and so it must resign itself to its fate like the Gryffindor-bought ribbon it was).
Lily had a collection of Muggle Nutcrackers that he’d once spelled to bite at people’s fingers whenever they tried to use them for their intended purpose. He’d done it right before the first Christmas party they’d ever hosted, and one of the Nutcrackers had clamped down on Sirius’s finger and refused to be pried off. James had laughed so hard he’d cried. It had been hilarious. Even Lily had cracked a smile as she apologized to their guests on his behalf and confiscated the angry wooden toys.
He snuck gag gifts amongst the normal presents that were charmed to jingle or shake ominously whenever someone walked by. Once he’d even jinxed the wreath over the hearth to give a hearty welcome whenever friends stopped by, or to gnash its rather pointy branch-teeth whenever someone more undesirable (like James’s boss) happened to call.
Best of all, he got hundreds of thank-you snogs and cuddles with his wife in front of the fire (not that James would ever admit to cuddling). He also got to come home to a delightfully warm and cheery house every single day for two months out of the year.
James loved Christmas.
This year was no different as far as decorations were concerned, but this year was special. This year was Harry’s first Christmas. The first Christmas was important! And James felt a bit like, as much as he’d helped Lily bake and decorate and shop and wrap, he hadn’t actually contributed much to making this first Christmas special for his son.
James really wanted to rectify that. It was just that he wasn’t sure how. And it was already Christmas Eve.
James had been trying to come up with a way to fix this for weeks now. He’d bent his prank-genius mind to the task, and for the first time ever, it had failed him. He tried talking to his wife about it, but the first couple of times he’d attempted it, Lily had been holding his son. The awe and amazement he still felt whenever he saw Harry combined with the awe and amazement he still felt whenever he saw his ring on Lily’s finger, plus the cuteness factor…it was a little too overwhelming. He just sort of turned to mush and ended up watching them both.
After awhile he managed to get the words out, but Lily just sort of laughed and kissed him. A couple of times she’d sicced Harry on him in hopes of distracting him, which was really very effective. Harry looked just like him (lucky boy), and there was really little James liked better than entertaining his son with tales of his own exploits just so he could see how many of Harry’s expressions were his and how many were Lily’s. On occasion, he also tried to convince Harry that when his eyes finally changed color, he should adopt his mother’s green rather than his own hazel. Lily had caught him at this once, which had been surprisingly embarrassing, but she’d just sort of teared up and kissed him.
Lily kissed him a lot. James was a lucky man.
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Besides, Harry was pretty much the best toy James had ever played with. Although he’d only made the mistake of saying that to Lily once.
This morning, when he’d tried to bring up his Christmas problem again, Lily had described, with frightening accuracy, all the ways James had helped decorate. She’d been exasperated when he’d pointed out that everything he’d done had been at her direction. And then she’d proven how smart he was for chasing her down, making her fall desperately in love with him, and then convincing her to spend the rest of her life telling other men she belonged to James:
“James, Harry won’t even remember this Christmas. And Harry will love and adore you no matter what you do or don’t do this year. But if it means that much to you, why don’t you ask Sirius for suggestions?”
James came away with two thoughts after this, aside from his conclusion that Lily was brilliant (she’d suggested that he ask his crazy best friend Sirius. Best. Wife. Ever.): 1) Lily was right; with a father as amazing as him, it was obvious that Harry must worship him. And 2) Sirius! Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that? Talking to Sirius is the first thing he should have done.
So James eyed his home carefully one last time, taking stock of what was there so that he could give Sirius all the necessary information. Then he Flooed his best friend’s flat.
“Prongsie!” Sirius called enthusiastically when he stuck his head through the doorway and saw James in his fireplace. “How is my unbelievably attractive godson?”
“Still a mirror image of me.” James grinned.
“So just as handsome as ever, then.”
“Best looking baby in existence.”
“It amazes me every day that Lily hasn’t managed to deflate your ego yet, Prongs.”
“Are you kidding, Pads? She married me! There is no end to my self-satisfaction.”
Sirius laughed. “Alright, well if you don’t need my help rebuilding your ego, what desperate quest has brought you to my fire?”
When James had finished explaining, and Sirius had finished taking the mickey, Sirius looked at him thoughtfully. “You know what you and Lily are missing? That fat Muggle who dresses all in red and flies around giving out free toys.”
James thought for a minute. He vaguely remembered hearing about that man when he’d gone with Lily to visit her parents before Christmas one year. “Santa?”
“Yeah, that guy!”
“Why do we need a fat Muggle in our cottage?”
“Well, he’s a big deal to Muggles right? And while little Harry is obviously going to be an amazing wizard, he should probably know some things about his Muggle side right? Besides, it’ll impress Lily, you dressing up like the figurehead of Muggle Christmas.”
“Whoa, wait! Dress up?”
“Yeah! You know, little bit of red velvet, spell a bit of a paunch on you…”
“I am not making myself fat. Not even for Harry. Well, maybe for Harry, but not if Lily might see me. And she would.”
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“You’re an arrogant little toerag, you know that?”
“I worked hard for these muscles, Padfoot. I see no reason to deprive the rest of the world of my awe inspiring figure.”
“Right. Well, I suppose you have a point. I mean, what would the world be like if I went fat Muggle for a day?”
“Exactly!”
“So you’ll be a skinny Santa, then. Harry’s not even five months old, he won’t know the difference anyway. We’ll charm a beard on you, give you a sack of presents, take a couple of pictures of your unbelievably beautiful family, which I promise not to sneak into the background of. At least half the time, anyway. And Lily will be putty in your hands.”
“Lily is already-”
“Yes, okay, more than usual. Stop trying to make us poor pathetic bachelors jealous.”
“I can’t help it, Pads. I lead a charmed life.”
“Yes, you and your gorgeous wife and your gorgeous son and your gorgeous best friend. How does the rest of the world not hate you?”
“It’s because I’m also so loveable.”
“Oh yes. I had forgotten about that.”
“So…velvet?”
“Yeah, Prongs.”
James sighed. “Where do we find velvet?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
On Christmas morning, James was waiting nervously in his sitting room for Lily to bring their son downstairs. He’d been up all night, first (with Sirius’s help and Lily’s amused blessing) making his new Santa costume, and then, later, reading all the Santa stories he could get his hands on. He’d started with Lily’s collection, which was small, and then he’d Flooed to Remus’s and snuck through his miniature library while his friend slept on undisturbed. (James had left a note in the place of each book he’d borrowed that read: “This book was stolen by Sirius for the purpose of helping James give Harry the perfect Christmas.” James figured it was sincere enough that Remus would really believe Sirius had done it. That way, if James forgot to give the books back, or if the books were damaged somehow-say by baby drool or gummy baby chew marks-then Remus wouldn’t come after him.)
Now, dressed in a red velvet suit with fuzzy white cuffs and wearing an old pointed Hogwarts hat charmed red and floppy, James felt prepared to play his part convincingly for his son. He only needed one thing.
Looking into the mirror normally reserved for communicating with Sirius, James pointed his wand at his chin and whispered a spell. Just then the fire in the fireplace flared green and Sirius stumbled out onto the hearth.
“Perfect timing, Pads,” James told him, waving his friend closer with one hand. “How does this beard look?”
“Too much Dumbledore and not enough Muggle do-gooder, mate.”
“You think so?” James examined himself in the mirror again, but the beard was too long for him to get a good look at both the beard and his face. Which really should have been a clue, he supposed. He waved his wand again and then shot Sirius a questioning look.
“Better.”
The fire flared again, this time expelling Remus. The werewolf glanced around, then rolled his eyes when he caught sight of James. “Well at least I know you put my books to good use when you stole them from my house in the middle of the night, Prongs,” Remus told him in a wry tone.
James’s eyes went wide. “How’d you know it was me?”
“I recognized your handwriting, James. Honestly, it amazes me that you ever pulled off a successful prank without me with that kind of shoddy craftsmanship.”
“Hey! I thought those notes were pretty clever!”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Moony, you’re breaking my heart here.”
“What notes?” Sirius wanted to know.
James cut him off before Remus could reveal James’s sneaky plan to blame his theft on their friend. “So do I look authentic, Remus?”
“Aside from the not fat thing,” Sirius felt the need to add. “He refused to be fat even for the sake of his son.” Sirius shook his head in mock disappointment.
Remus smirked. “No surprise there,” he said, then laughed at James’s answering scowl. “Here, Prongs,” he said, lifting his wand, “let’s disillusion those glasses.”
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“Is everyone here, then?” Lily asked as she came into the room. The marauders (minus Peter, who went home to see his family at Christmas and came over on Boxing Day instead) had a made a tradition of celebrating Christmas at the Potter’s ever since they’d finished school. Sirius had been coming to the Potter’s for Christmas since he was sixteen and had left his parents house, and when Remus’s parents died, leaving him with nowhere else to go either, James had been eager to have them over. At first James had been a little hesitant to suggest his plan to his wife, unsure of how she would take the idea of expanding their “family” over the holidays, but Lily had welcomed his friends with open arms. The two men had been coming to Christmas ever since.
Lily passed her small son over to his godfather as soon as she entered the room, dropping a kiss on Sirius’s cheek before moving to hug Remus in welcome. When she stepped back, she finally caught sight of her husband and instantly burst out laughing.
“What?” he demanded, offended by her reaction.
“You look…” she trailed off into another fit of laughter. When she managed to choke it back, she tried again. “I’ve just…I’ve never seen a skinny Santa!” She cracked up again.
James wrinkled his nose at her. “I’m what Santa would look like if he went on the diet he so desperately needs. And also if he’d had better looking parents,” he added, striking a seductive pose and waving his hand in front of himself to better showcase his attractiveness.
Lily just laughed harder. James sighed. Sometimes he was really under-appreciated.
Lily caught the look on his face and her smile softened. “Have I told you today that I love you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he told her, glancing at her from the corner of one eye, definitely not pouting, “but you can say it again.”
Her smile broadened. “I love you,” she told him, cupping his face between her hands and kissing him sweetly.
“Awwwww!” Remus cried, clasping his hands in front of his chest. Sirius catcalled and then made kissy noises at them. James snorted a laugh and Lily rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pulled away from him.
“Alright then, skinny, good-looking Santa-”
“I knew you thought I was gorgeous,” James preened.
“By far the most attractive Santa I’ve ever seen,” Lily laughed. James gave her a rakish wink, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.
Sirius burst into loud laughter. Harry looked up at him in shock for a moment before a wide grin spread across his little face as well and he reached to grab at his godfather’s smiling face. Sirius kissed one of his little hands between peals of laughter.
James stared at his best friend. “What’s so funny, Padfoot?”
“I just had a vision of what the two of you will be like in your dotage, is all,” he snickered.
Remus blinked, then laughed as well. “It’s true,” he said. “I have no doubt you two will flirt just as shamelessly when you’re old and grey as you do now.”
“It’ll be disgusting,” Sirius agreed. Harry patted at his chin and Sirius shifted his attention to make silly faces at the baby.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Lily said, waving her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Back to the point. James, now that you’re all Santa-fied, are you ready to make this the best first Christmas any baby’s ever had?”
“Absolutely.” James gave her a loud, smacking kiss, and turned to Sirius. “Padfoot?” James held his arms out for Harry. Sirius passed the happily gurgling baby over to his father without protest. Harry, dressed in soft little footie pajamas covered in teensy sparkling stars and little prancing stags (which used to be reindeer before James got a hold of the garment), snuggled easily into the familiar hold of his father.
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“Hey there, little me,” James murmured to his son, hefting the baby a little closer to his face. He was smiling when Harry looked up and met his eyes.
And promptly burst into loud, unhappy tears.
“Oh, hey!” James exclaimed, bouncing his son gently. Harry’s cries abated a little at the sound of his voice, but when he looked around and didn’t see his father’s face, the cries resumed at an even louder volume.
“I don’t think he likes your costume, Jamie,” Sirius told him.
“But why not?” James asked, distressed. “I thought all children loved Santa! They do in all the stories!”
“James, those are children old enough to have heard and understood the Santa myth,” Remus explained. “Harry’s too young to understand Santa.”
“So you think, what? It’s…it’s the beard?”
Sirius snickered a little. “Well, the beard scares me, so…”
“But-”
Just then, one of Harry’s flailing hands grabbed at his beard and pulled. The glamour, not made to endure such treatment, promptly dissolved in a shower of bright, harmless sparks. Shocked by the light and the sudden emptiness of his fist, Harry took in a sharp breath and opened his eyes. His gaze caught on James’s face and he instantly stopped crying. Staring up at his father with tears still trembling on his ridiculously long lashes, Harry took a couple of shallow gasping breaths and reached up to touch James’s face. James smiled down at him, and Harry slowly smiled back.
“There we go. That’s better.”
Once he was sure Harry was done screaming his tiny head off, Sirius let out a wicked little laugh. “Prongs!” he said, pointing at his best friend. “You terrified your own son!”
“I did not!” James denied. He looked down at the baby for confirmation. “That’s not true at all, is it Harry?”
Harry smiled up at him and made cute baby noises.
Sirius laughed disbelievingly. “He took one look at you and screamed, Prongsie. What else would you call it?” He turned to Remus before James could answer. “Can you think of another explanation for this besides sheer terror, Moony?”
“Not a one,” Remus serenely replied.
“It was not terror,” James said, sitting down in the armchair next to the Christmas tree and looking down at his son. “You just love your daddy more than Santa, don’t you son? You love daddy best.”
Sirius sputtered a laugh and Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he loves Lily best,” Remus told him.
James glared at him. “I’m keeping all your presents, Moony.”
“What? Padfoot started it!”
Lily smiled and sat on the arm of James’s chair. She draped an arm behind him and leaned her forehead against his temple. “I told you he loves you,” she said, kissing his cheek, then resting her own against the top of his head, looking down at their son with him. She reached out with her free hand and gently flattened Harry’s untamable hair.
“Of course he does,” James told her, smug. “I love him more than everything but you. That’s an awful lot of love, you know.”
“I know.”
“So he can’t help himself. Besides, I’m the best father in the world, and I’m me. What’s not to love?”
“I could name some things,” Sirius muttered. Remus choked on a laugh. Lily and James ignored them both.
“Not a thing,” Lily told her husband sincerely. She leaned over and kissed first James and then Harry. “Now how about you give me our son so you can pass out presents like a good Santa?”
And just like every other time Lily issued a Christmas command, James grinned at her and hurried to comply.
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