FIC: Strange New Worlds for solidbaby
Title: Strange New Worlds
Author: Laroseminuit
Written For: solidbaby
Rating: PG
Prompt: Star Trek references, shopping for Christmas decorations
Summary: Remus helps Sirius shop for muggle Christmas decorations.
Any other notes, warnings, etc: Thanks to kamir for being my beta.
Strange New Worlds
“Let’s do it again,” Sirius said, staggering slightly across the stained concrete. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his black watchcoat and bounced on the balls of his feet. Dreary-eyed people shoved past him. His companion smiled and brushed a few strands of hair out of his twinkling blue eyes.
“I hardly think it’s better than flying,” Remus commented in a low voice.
Sirius scoffed. “Nah, flying is totally different. This, this is brilliant. They put the train underground! And not a one of them with a wand.” He twisted and looked back at the Tube station as Remus guided him up the trash-littered steps and onto the London street.
Remus thought it was a beautiful day. The sky was bright and blue, the air crisp and clear, and the streets of muggle London were festively abloom with evergreen garlands, wreaths, and red and gold ribbons. It had snowed in the night, the first of the season, and wet dollops of white snow sat on newspaper boxes and parked cars like jaunty woolen caps. The streets were crowded with muggles doing their holiday shopping. Every time a shop door opened, snatches of Christmas music wafted into the street. Remus stuffed his cold hands into the pockets of his pea coat and whistled a few bars of Good King Wenceslas. Beside him, Sirius took a step closer, pressing into Remus’s side.
“Why are we here, again?” Sirius asked, looking torn between curiosity for all the wonderful paraphernalia of muggle life around him, and fear of the chaotic crowds. The seasonal weather seemed to have reminded every muggle in England that the holidays were just two weeks away, and every one of them had come out shopping. Sirius had never seen so many muggles at once. He looked especially terrified of a short, plump woman weighed down by a dozen shopping bags and surrounded by an unruly swarm of nearly-identical children, all speaking very loudly and completely oblivious to the other people attempting to use the sidewalk. Sirius gripped Remus’s arm more tightly. Remus took pity on him and ducked into the next shop they passed, tugging Sirius in by the elbow behind him. A bell jingled overhead as they entered the warm, artificially bright shop.
“You’re the one with the crazy decorating plan. I clearly recall being begged to escort you into London to find the really authentic ‘sparkly things.’ And I do still need to get a gift for my muggle uncle Romil, so I graciously agreed. Thus, here we are.”
“Begged? Hardly. Sirius Black never begs for anything. But really, Moony, where are we? What is this? Is this Christmas-y?”
“Pardon? Is what Christmas-y?” Remus asked, perplexed.
Sirius turned around from where he’d been investigating a shelf of goods, and held up a blue model, with the words “Police Public Call Box” written on one face. “I know Muggles are nutters and all, but why would they want a miniature telephone box?”
The corners of Remus’s eyes crinkled with laughter for a moment, but he composed himself, and with a completely straight face, said, “Because it’s bigger on the inside.”
Sirius flipped the toy around a few times, trying to find an opening. “Really? I didn’t know Muggles could do that.”
Remus laughed softly. “They can’t. But aliens can.”
Sirius looked at him worriedly. “Remus, you’re not making sense. Aliens are just something that the Ministry made up to cover for times when Muggles accidentally see the Quiddich World Cup or something.”
Remus looked around, realizing what kind of shop they’d ducked into. It was a hobby shop, and full of model kits and miniature figurines. He took the little TARDIS from Sirius and put it back on the shelf.
“No, this isn’t the kind of shop where we’ll find Christmas decorations. But I do want to poke around for a moment. Uncle Romil loves science fiction, maybe they’ll have something he’d like. I used to watch Star Trek with him when we’d go to visit. I wonder if they have any Enterprise models.” He wandered down the aisle, and Sirius followed him like an overgrown puppy.
“Star Trek? Is that like muggles camping in space?”
“Er, no, Sirius. It’s a muggle television show - you remember I told you about television? - about explorers who travel through space meeting new aliens and visiting new planets.” They came to a large display of Star Trek items. While Remus scrutinized ship model kits, Sirius looked at the little plastic figures. He picked up one in a blue shirt.
“Is this one half goblin or something? What’s up with his ears?”
Remus glanced over, and smiled fondly. “No, that’s Spock. He’s half Vulcan. He was my favorite character, because he was very intelligent and always in control of his emotions.”
Remus selected a model kit of the NCC-1701 and went to the cashier to pay. Sirius lagged behind a moment, examining the little space travelers, and then caught up as the odd looking man at the till handed Remus his change.
“Live long and prosper,” the man said, pushing up his glasses.
Remus nodded politely and replied, “Peace and long life, sir.”
On the street again, Sirius asked, “What was that? Is that a muggle greeting?”
Remus hid his mischievous grin in the collar of his coat. “Yes, Sirius. It is. Maybe you can try it out in the next shop.” He gestured to a department store on the corner. “Come, now, Sirius, time to boldly go where no Black has gone before.”
Despite Sirius’s rubbernecking trying to look at everything in the store, Remus led him quickly to the decorations display. There were fake trees of all sizes, baubles and bulbs to hang on them, tinsel in every imaginable color, strings of lights, plastic Santa Clauses, ropes of garland, huge red velvet bows, and much more. Sirius gawked, and then his face split into a wide grin. With fond dread, Remus recognized the mischievous look on his friend’s face. It was frighteningly similar to the one he’d sported on the Marauder’s first trip to Zonko’s in third year. His pupils were dilated and he stood looking at the display rapturously. Remus waved a hand in front of his face to recapture his attention.
“Earth to Sirius, snap out of it. Let’s be reasonable. It won’t all fit in your flat.”
That dampened the expression on his face, but he still grinned widely.
“Come on, Moony. You’re the expert, what with having been to an actual Muggle home and all. What do I need for a muggle Christmas?” He picked up a pair of glittery, iridescent tree ornaments. “Are these earrings? Merlin’s beard, they’re huge!”
Remus plucked them out of his hands before he tried to stick them to his earlobes. “No, Padfoot, they go on the tree.” Remus surveyed the selection of holiday goods. “Right. You’ll need a tree. And a tree skirt.”
Sirius interrupted. “I want a boy tree.”
“Trees don’t have gender.”
“I don’t want a girly tree, then. I want tree trousers.”
Remus glared at his friend. “There’s no such thing as tree trousers.” Sirius pouted. “Fine. We’ll get a plaid one and call it a tree kilt.” The grin returned.
Then they had a ten minute argument about why Sirius could not buy a ten-foot tall tree when his flat’s ceilings were only nine feet high. Sirius compensated by selecting a huge star, which the packaging suggested lighted up in various rainbow patterns and played classic Christmas carols.
“I just thought of something, Remus,” Sirius commented in the middle of piling their basket with glimmering baubles, gaudy snowmen ornaments, and kitschy reindeer made out of painted popsicle sticks. He squinted at a box of miniature lights. “Muggle fairy lights aren’t made of real fairies. How do they glow?”
“Electricity.”
“Where do I get that? How does it work?”
Remus cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m a wizard, not an electrician, but you’d need wires in your flat. I myself would probably use magic.”
Sirius tossed a red and gold ribbon wrapped wreath into their basket and took one last look around. “Did we get everything?”
Remus looked into the basket, and then around at the displays. He took a step toward a display of little figurines and huts. “My aunt and uncle always have a nativity on their mantle.” He picked up a little manger and a small set of people and animals. “Ok, now you’re done.”
They went to the front of the store and stepped into the queue.
“Do you want to handle the muggle money, or shall I?” Remus asked.
“Oh! Me, me, me.”
“Do you remember what I told you about it?”
“Yes, Moony.” Sirius mock whined. “Paper is pounds, coins are pence. It’s not NEWT-level arithmancy, which I’m brilliant at, by the way, I’ll be fine.”
Remus cringed a little bit at the total when it was all rung up, but Sirius had changed a bunch of the money he’d gotten from Uncle Alphard at Gringott’s and he pulled this wad out of his coat pocket and fumbled with the bills.
“Uh huh, that one, three of those, and you can just give her one of the little ones, she’ll give you your change.” Remus murmured to him. For his troubles, Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and handed the money to the middle-aged clerk. She looked at him oddly for a moment, but then decided he must be special, and smiled brightly. She handed him his change and said carefully and cheerfully, “Happy Holidays to you, young man.”
Sirius was flustered by the muggle money - it wasn’t his fault the muggles made it so complicated! - but he was determined to show Remus he could pass for a muggle. He smirked slightly at Remus, and said to the clerk, in an equally cheerful and gallant voice, “Yes, and live long and prosper, madam!”
Remus could barely contain his laughter as they wheeled their basket toward an empty corner of the store. As it was, his shoulders were shaking, and Sirius glared at him.
“You know, Remus, I think you’re having me on. That muggle lady didn’t look at all like she knew what I was saying. I think she thought I was an idiot!” Checking that they were alone, Sirius drew his wand and moodily jabbed at the bags, shrinking them to be pocket-sized. Remus reached out and stuck the now miniaturized Christmas tree in his pocket.
“I’m sorry, Padfoot. It was too good a prank to resist.”
The corners of Sirius’s mouth lifted. “And the professors all thought you were the good one, Mr. Prefect Moony.”
Remus took Sirius’s arm and held it tight. “All right, let’s get this to your flat, then.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Can’t apparate yourself?”
“I like it better when you do it.” Remus shrugged. “Less chance of splinching myself. Remember that time I lost the nail on my little toe? Never did find it. I had to get Madame Pomfrey to grow me a new one.”
“Well, we can’t risk loosing any more of Mr. Moony’s lovely body parts.” Sirius acknowledged, and began to turn in place.
“Beam me up, Scotty!” Remus whispered, as they disappeared from the store.
Sirius had entered a holiday decorating contest he’d seen in Witches Home Journal. He didn’t make a point of reading the magazine, but he’d taken out a subscription in James’ name when the daft fool had up and abandoned glorious bachelor life in favor of proposing to Evans, who had actually accepted. The contest was for best Christmas decorations, and the prize was a brand-new motorbike (or an expenses-paid trip to France, but who would want that? French wizards were so snotty.) Sirius’s grand plan was to win by producing the most authentic muggle scene possible.
He and Remus spent the short afternoon setting up the tree and charming the lights to glow. They hung wreaths and garland and Remus used his wand to make wooly, muggle fake snow along the window sills and mantle top. Then he carefully set up the crèche. Sirius charmed the walls red and green and gold and the room was done.
“When’s the judging?” Remus asked, accepting a cup of peppermint liquor-spiked cocoa from Sirius.
“Tomorrow at 10. They won’t announce the winner until Christmas day, though.” Sirius fingered his mug, as if there was something he wanted to say. Remus looked at the clock on the wall, surrounded by holy and ivy, then at the slanted light coming through the window.
“Well, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got the evening shift tonight at the post owl office.”
Sirius looked a little upset that he was leaving. “You’ll be back tomorrow, yeah?”
Remus looked at Sirius wordlessly, and Sirius understood. He smiled and waved goodbye as his friend flooed away.
When Remus returned the following afternoon, the flat was full of blaring carols, coming from the wizard wireless. The lights and star on the tree flashed away cheerfully. Sirius’s voice, singing slightly off-tune, came from the kitchen.
“Padfoot?” Remus called, and Sirius came bounding into the parlor.
“Wotcher, Moony! How was work?”
Remus shrugged. “I think post owls are troublesome, and worse than tribbles, but I can’t complain about what pays the rent.”
Sirius frowned. “I’m much less trouble than owls, and I don’t know what a tribble is, but I’m sure I’m better than those, too. Can I pay the rent?”
“I’ve told you before, Sirius. I can’t take charity.”
Sirius groaned. “I’ve told you before, Moony, it’s not charity. I lo-” He took Remus by the shoulders. “Turn around, I want to show you something.”
Remus turned to face the fireplace, preoccupied with the feeling of Sirius’s hands on his shoulders. He tried to focus on the mantle. “Er. What exactly am I looking at?” he asked, and then he saw it. Sirius had replaced the blue-robed Mary figure with another figurine in blue, and Joseph with a little man in gold. Remus touched Spock’s pointed little ears lightly and turned back to Sirius. The lights on the tree were glinting in Sirius’s eyes.
“I love you, Moony.” He bit his lip. “Prongs gets Evans. Why can’t I have you? Move in with me.”
Remus looked at Sirius and felt all his excuses fall away like the tissue paper they were. He took a deep breath.
“I find your logic irrefutable. All right, Sirius, I’ll move in.” Remus didn’t remember moving, but a moment later he was in Sirius’s arms, and he felt at home for the first time since he’d left school.
“I love you too, Padfoot.”