Sunlight On Christmas Morning
Posting at rs_small_gifts has begun early! Huzzah! Since my fic was apparently the fifth to be turned in, it's already up. Hence, I'm posting it here, too.
Title: Sunlight On Christmas Morning
Author: peskywhistpaw
Written for: yaukira
Rating: G
Word Count: ~930
Prompt: Sunlight (plus a bit of hands in the hair, if you squint)
Summary: The first thing that Sirius noticed as he was waking up on Christmas morning was the fact that he did not feel cold, not even slightly chilled...
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: I really do hope that you like this! I tried to make it bittersweet-or at least keep the ending from being annoyingly, excessively happy-so I'm crossing my fingers in hopes that I succeeded. Thank you chimbomba for beta-reading this. ♥ Original post here.
Sunlight On Christmas Morning
The first thing that Sirius noticed as he was waking up on Christmas morning was the fact that he did not feel cold, not even slightly chilled. His groggy mind registered this as strange, for the only thing that he could recall about the previous night was that he had gone to bed shivering miserably. Yet it seemed that, instead of huddling in his blankets like some sort of pathetic snow creature, he had actually, whilst sleeping, cast all of said blankets aside.
The second thing that Sirius noticed, as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, was the fact that his dormitory was shockingly bright. For one brief second, he was gripped with panic; though he was always the last to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, he was, without fail, also the first to rise every Christmas Day. If it was already bright outside, then he had overslept.
But when he glanced at the clock between his and James’s four-posters, he was astonished to find that it was barely seven o’clock.
Sirius blinked, squinted at the window across the room, and then blinked again until everything came into focus.
And then, as was only to be expected, he began to shout.
“PRONGSPRONGSWORMTAILMOONYMOONY!” he cried, all in one breath. “It’s sunny! There’s sun! It’s a sunny Christmas!”
James opened a bleary eye and stared at Sirius in a disgruntled fashion. “What’re you on ‘bout?”
Sirius turned, a rather wild, frenzied look about him. “It’s sunny!”
“S’always sunny in the afternoon,” Peter mumbled sagely, half-asleep.
Sirius frowned.
“I reckon,” James said, his voice muffled, “that it’s only s’posed to be exciting when it’s a white Christmas.”
Sirius peered at him, regarding the pile of pillows and other such things that all but obscured James from view. “There’s always snow on Christmas, never sun,” he pointed out. “Just cold, wet snow, n’all that.”
“Nothing’s wrong with snow,” James reasoned. “Not when there’re presents indoors.”
Sirius sighed, switching his attention to a still-silent Remus. “Moony, you’ve got to-to-”
“To what?” Remus yawned, at last speaking.
“Moony, it’s sunny!”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Makes it special, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
Sirius snorted. “You’re not even looking.”
“Looking at what?”
“Padfoot, go back to sleep! It’s too early!” James squawked.
Sirius ignored him. “The sun, is what! It’s bloody fantastic!”
When Remus made no effort to respond to this, Sirius leapt nimbly off of his own bed and onto Remus’s. He danced around, attempting to balance himself, and upon doing so, he dropped down near Remus’s headboard, causing everything on the mattress to bounce.
Remus growled at him lightly, but Sirius merely ruffled his companion’s already mussed hair.
“Rise and shine, ye flobberworms of little spirit!” Sirius called, sticking out his tongue when Remus let forth another, louder, growl.
“I suspect the sun’s done enough rising and shining for the lot of us already,” Remus remarked.
Sirius paused, waiting for twin outcries of agreement from James and Peter, but they did not come. He tilted his head to one side, listening, and then…
… Peter let out a great, earth-shattering snore.
“I’ve put them to sleep,” Sirius lamented.
“Hopefully not in the other sense of the phrase,” Remus smiled.
Sirius gazed at him blankly.
“Nevermind.” He coughed, feeling awkward.
“Clever, barmy Moony,” Sirius sighed.
“Not nearly as barmy as you seem to be.”
“It’s Christmas!” Sirius reminded him, as if this explanation was sufficient enough. At length, he added thoughtfully, “And it’s sunny. Need I remind you again? ‘Cause I will.”
“Four times or so is enough, I assure you.”
In a gesture that was both out of idleness and habit, Sirius let his hand rest upon Remus’s as he glanced toward the window. Sunlight still flooded through the pane, warming his skin pleasantly.
“I wonder why it’s not like this every Christmas,” he pondered aloud.
“That’s just the way the weather happens to be.” Remus pulled himself into a sitting position, propping himself against his pillow.
“Well, I like it better this way. S’more festive than snow and all that other dreary rubbish.”
Remus kept silent, musing upon these words briefly. It was fitting, really, he thought, that Sirius preferred clear skies to cloudy ones. Clear skies were radiant and unrestrained… like Sirius.
After a while, Remus realized that a frown was tugging at the corners of Sirius’s lips.
“What’s wrong?”
“Clouds,” Sirius muttered sadly. “Stupid things won’t stay away.”
Another look out of the window confirmed that this was true; hazy patches of grey that had not been there earlier now lingered on the horizon.
Remus smiled after a pause. “You know what we’ve got to do then, don’t you, Sirius?”
The other boy regarded him dubiously.
“We’ve got to enjoy the sun while we can. Why don’t we open presents outside? It shouldn’t take all that long, if the past years are any indication.”
Sirius shot him an odd, crooked grin. “Clever, barmy, Moony. I reckon you’re onto something.” He gave Remus’s hand a small squeeze, then emitted a low, affectionate growl to disguise the tenderness of the motion. “I’ll roust the troops,” he coughed. “Now commencing Phase Two of Operation Flobberworm.”
Remus snorted and carefully stepped out of bed, reveling in the warmth of the floor beneath his feet and the protests of James and Peter on either side of him. The first thing he noticed, when he glanced insistently out the window one last time, was that, while the clouds might have put a bit of a damper on the celebrations, they were still rather far away.
THE END
Title: Sunlight On Christmas Morning
Author: peskywhistpaw
Written for: yaukira
Rating: G
Word Count: ~930
Prompt: Sunlight (plus a bit of hands in the hair, if you squint)
Summary: The first thing that Sirius noticed as he was waking up on Christmas morning was the fact that he did not feel cold, not even slightly chilled...
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: I really do hope that you like this! I tried to make it bittersweet-or at least keep the ending from being annoyingly, excessively happy-so I'm crossing my fingers in hopes that I succeeded. Thank you chimbomba for beta-reading this. ♥ Original post here.
Sunlight On Christmas Morning
The first thing that Sirius noticed as he was waking up on Christmas morning was the fact that he did not feel cold, not even slightly chilled. His groggy mind registered this as strange, for the only thing that he could recall about the previous night was that he had gone to bed shivering miserably. Yet it seemed that, instead of huddling in his blankets like some sort of pathetic snow creature, he had actually, whilst sleeping, cast all of said blankets aside.
The second thing that Sirius noticed, as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, was the fact that his dormitory was shockingly bright. For one brief second, he was gripped with panic; though he was always the last to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, he was, without fail, also the first to rise every Christmas Day. If it was already bright outside, then he had overslept.
But when he glanced at the clock between his and James’s four-posters, he was astonished to find that it was barely seven o’clock.
Sirius blinked, squinted at the window across the room, and then blinked again until everything came into focus.
And then, as was only to be expected, he began to shout.
“PRONGSPRONGSWORMTAILMOONYMOONY!” he cried, all in one breath. “It’s sunny! There’s sun! It’s a sunny Christmas!”
James opened a bleary eye and stared at Sirius in a disgruntled fashion. “What’re you on ‘bout?”
Sirius turned, a rather wild, frenzied look about him. “It’s sunny!”
“S’always sunny in the afternoon,” Peter mumbled sagely, half-asleep.
Sirius frowned.
“I reckon,” James said, his voice muffled, “that it’s only s’posed to be exciting when it’s a white Christmas.”
Sirius peered at him, regarding the pile of pillows and other such things that all but obscured James from view. “There’s always snow on Christmas, never sun,” he pointed out. “Just cold, wet snow, n’all that.”
“Nothing’s wrong with snow,” James reasoned. “Not when there’re presents indoors.”
Sirius sighed, switching his attention to a still-silent Remus. “Moony, you’ve got to-to-”
“To what?” Remus yawned, at last speaking.
“Moony, it’s sunny!”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Makes it special, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
Sirius snorted. “You’re not even looking.”
“Looking at what?”
“Padfoot, go back to sleep! It’s too early!” James squawked.
Sirius ignored him. “The sun, is what! It’s bloody fantastic!”
When Remus made no effort to respond to this, Sirius leapt nimbly off of his own bed and onto Remus’s. He danced around, attempting to balance himself, and upon doing so, he dropped down near Remus’s headboard, causing everything on the mattress to bounce.
Remus growled at him lightly, but Sirius merely ruffled his companion’s already mussed hair.
“Rise and shine, ye flobberworms of little spirit!” Sirius called, sticking out his tongue when Remus let forth another, louder, growl.
“I suspect the sun’s done enough rising and shining for the lot of us already,” Remus remarked.
Sirius paused, waiting for twin outcries of agreement from James and Peter, but they did not come. He tilted his head to one side, listening, and then…
… Peter let out a great, earth-shattering snore.
“I’ve put them to sleep,” Sirius lamented.
“Hopefully not in the other sense of the phrase,” Remus smiled.
Sirius gazed at him blankly.
“Nevermind.” He coughed, feeling awkward.
“Clever, barmy Moony,” Sirius sighed.
“Not nearly as barmy as you seem to be.”
“It’s Christmas!” Sirius reminded him, as if this explanation was sufficient enough. At length, he added thoughtfully, “And it’s sunny. Need I remind you again? ‘Cause I will.”
“Four times or so is enough, I assure you.”
In a gesture that was both out of idleness and habit, Sirius let his hand rest upon Remus’s as he glanced toward the window. Sunlight still flooded through the pane, warming his skin pleasantly.
“I wonder why it’s not like this every Christmas,” he pondered aloud.
“That’s just the way the weather happens to be.” Remus pulled himself into a sitting position, propping himself against his pillow.
“Well, I like it better this way. S’more festive than snow and all that other dreary rubbish.”
Remus kept silent, musing upon these words briefly. It was fitting, really, he thought, that Sirius preferred clear skies to cloudy ones. Clear skies were radiant and unrestrained… like Sirius.
After a while, Remus realized that a frown was tugging at the corners of Sirius’s lips.
“What’s wrong?”
“Clouds,” Sirius muttered sadly. “Stupid things won’t stay away.”
Another look out of the window confirmed that this was true; hazy patches of grey that had not been there earlier now lingered on the horizon.
Remus smiled after a pause. “You know what we’ve got to do then, don’t you, Sirius?”
The other boy regarded him dubiously.
“We’ve got to enjoy the sun while we can. Why don’t we open presents outside? It shouldn’t take all that long, if the past years are any indication.”
Sirius shot him an odd, crooked grin. “Clever, barmy, Moony. I reckon you’re onto something.” He gave Remus’s hand a small squeeze, then emitted a low, affectionate growl to disguise the tenderness of the motion. “I’ll roust the troops,” he coughed. “Now commencing Phase Two of Operation Flobberworm.”
Remus snorted and carefully stepped out of bed, reveling in the warmth of the floor beneath his feet and the protests of James and Peter on either side of him. The first thing he noticed, when he glanced insistently out the window one last time, was that, while the clouds might have put a bit of a damper on the celebrations, they were still rather far away.
THE END