Mistletoe

“Shush, shush, shut it, Padfoot, shut it,”

“Lily Evans!” Sirius announced, muffled, past James’ gloved hand that covered his mouth. “James Potter adores you!”

“I said shut it, Padfoot,” With his other hand, James whacked Sirius in the head, making him stumble to the side and knock into Remus.

“Could you be a little more careful, Black?” Remus growled, pushing Sirius back off of him.

“It’s that one’s fault!” Sirius excused himself, jabbing his finger at James, who pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted at a girl with long, red hair in a scarf and earmuffs who was wandering aimlessly alongside a few other young witches.

“Shh!” James absently smashed his finger to his lips and held his left hand out at the two of them as if to stop their discussion. “I think she might be talking about me,” he whispered solemnly.

Lily Evans chuckled to her friend, a shorter girl with dark brown hair, and James cringed.

“They’re laughing at you,” Sirius teased him in a quiet whisper. “She’s laughing at you. She thinks you’re an absolute nutter—”

“Shut it, Padfoot,” James snapped. Lily glanced over at them and instantly frowned.

James swore under his breath. “She saw me staring,” he said, glancing back to the other two boys. He nervously scratched the back of his neck, a rash developing from what might have been the itchy scarf draped around it.

“And she was freaked out, wasn’t she?” Sirius said, motioning from James to the girl. “I would be too, if some creep was watching me.”

Remus snorted.

“Why don’t you just trying speaking to her, Prongs? Like a normal human being.” Remus tucked his bare hands under his armpits and shivered. “Bloody hell,” he murmured to himself. “It’s freezing.”

“You done ogling Lily Evans, then, Prongs?” Sirius said. “If you hurry up and stuff your tongue back into your mouth we might be able to grab a seat at The Three Broomsticks,”

James glared. “I’m not ogling her,” he scoffed, glancing back at the girl just as she and her dark-haired friend stood up from the bench they were resting on. James watched them intently as they began to make their way to the main road, chatting pleasantly with their bags tucked under their arms.

“C’mon, Moony,” Sirius nudged Remus’ shoulder. “Let’s leave that one here to mope over his long-lost love.”

“Shut it, Black,” James rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as a tremor ran through his body. He wrapped his arms around himself and exhaled forcefully through his nose; a stream of white billowed out as if from a train.

“Whatever, Potter,” Sirius shrugged, walking backwards toward the main road, the thick snow crunching under his boots. “Remus and I’ll be in the Three Broomsticks.”

“Good luck with getting a seat,” James smirked, starting in the other direction, the way Lily and her friend had gone.

Sirius turned and trudged through the small green, usually dry and grassy, now thick, difficult and cold. Remus ran to catch up with him, a soft crunch crunch crunch echoing with every step.

“You suppose we won’t get a table, like James said?” Remus said when he fell into step beside Sirius.

Sirius shrugged. “I sure as hell hope we do. I’m bloody freezing.”

“Same.” Remus hastily ran his bare hands up and down the sides of his chest as he tucked his chin into his scarf.

Sirius hopped to the considerably drier and less slippery strip of packed dirt that was the road. Counter to him, Remus slipped on the very edge and grasped Sirius’ shoulder to keep from falling to the ground.

“Sorry,” he laughed fretfully, trying to regain his footing. He dug his frozen fingers into the warm wool of Sirius’ jacket, clinging to it not only to fix his balance but also out of a small sense of pleasure he gained from it that desperately screamed out in the back of his head.

Sirius laughed and said, “Hell, Moony, I know I’m handsome, but there’s no need to fall over me.”

“Ha, ha,” Remus straightened himself up and gradually slipped his hand off of Sirius’ shoulder down to his side. “So funny, I’d forgotten to laugh.” He dismissed the joke as immature but still felt a small cringe inside. Oh, if only you knew, Black. If only you bloody knew.

All hope was lost when they squeezed their way into The Three Broomsticks. The smoky inn was packed from wall to wall with disgruntled wizards and witches, clutching mugs of steaming butterbeer in their hands. A loud chatter buzzed in the dim atmosphere, with only the dim light from the candles that levitated by the ceiling and streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the shutters as a source of illumination.

Packed at six to a seat, with mismatched chairs that gave both boys the impression that they’d been summoned there, the inn hummed with a plethora of activity.

Sirius swore under his breath and ran his hand through his untidy black hair. “Moony, we won’t get a seat in this place till next Christmas,” he grumbled under his breath.

Remus frowned crossing his arms over his chest. “Couldn’t we just stand here for a little bit?” he suggested, glancing dreadfully back at the entrance, a small window at the top of the door giving a glimpse of the bitter outside. “It’s warmer in here.”

Sirius shrugged and leaned against the wall by the entrance. “If you want to,” he said casually. The two boys slumped against the grayish wooden wall, side by side, as a tall wizard in maroon robes walked past levitating six Firewhiskeys in front of him. Sirius and Remus exchanged amused glances.

“Where was Wormtail today?” Sirius asked Remus after the man had passed.

“Slughorn was still furious over him letting off that dungbomb in the dungeons last week,” Remus explained with a slight smirk. “He’s banned him from going to Hogsmeade for the next month.”

Sirius snorted. “Stupid Pettigrew. Told him he should’ve used James’ invisibility cloak. Ah, well. Hey,” he added. “Do you think there’s some charm to keep warm when it’s cold? I bet there is. He must’ve told us once, in Charms, but I was probably asleep.” Sirius snorted.

“I’m sure there’s one,” answered Remus, making a mental note to research it in the library when he had the chance. “It’d be dead useful.”

A first year with wavy, honey-blonde hair carrying a tall mug of butterbeer began to inch past them. Her bottom lip being ground by her teeth, she watched the filled brim of the cup anxiously, in fear of it spilling. And all of a sudden, she shrieked and tripped over a nail sticking up out of the floorboards; her butterbeer spilled. Still clutching her mug, the entirety of the cup exploded out and landed on everything within two feet of it, including Sirius.

He swore out loud, a stain from the scalding drink soaking the knee of his pants.

The first year at once burst into tears, she herself dripping with butterbeer; before anyone had a chance to consol her, she flung her mug down on the ground, shattering it to pieces, and scurried out of the inn with her hands over her face.

“They’ve always gotta spill something on me, eh?” Sirius growled, pulling his wand out of his back pocket. With a quick flick, he siphoned off the butterbeer from his pants and looked back up at Remus. “I think maybe we should go back outside.”

The two of them squeezed their way past the crowd just as Madam Rosmerta made her way over, jabbing her wand at the shattered pieces of the mug to clean the mess.

“Wonder where James is,” Remus said, as they aimlessly dawdled down the road.

Sirius shrugged, glancing distractedly about their surroundings. “Wanna sit down?” he asked, motioning toward a bench resting outside of a nameless brick building.

“Sure,” Remus shrugged. The two of them settled on the bench.

“James is probably hanging around outside Madam Puddifoot’s, trying to coax Evans to go in with him for some tea,” Sirius laughed, crossing his arms across his chest. “To no bloody avail, of course,” he added.

Remus snorted. “It’s no wonder she can’t stand him, all he does is tease her all the time.”

“That’d be a right pain,” Sirius agreed. “I wouldn’t like that.”

“Me neither,” Remus said quietly.

They sat there for a moment, quietly, as throngs of purchase-laden wizards and witches with pink cheeks hurried past, squeezing in last minute Christmas shopping.

“Done your shopping?” Remus asked. “For the holiday?”

Sirius nodded, “You?”

“Yeah,”

Remus shivered. The very tip of his nose was bright red and his light brown hair stuck out in odd angles under his black woolen cap. Sirius couldn’t help but grin when he glanced over at him. “That warming charm would be pretty good right about now,” Sirius thought out loud.

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, a smile making dimples in his pink cheeks. He vigorously rubbed his palms together.

Sirius shifted awkwardly next to him. Their silence was something that had been happening often lately, especially when the two of them were alone. Sirius’ mind wandered back to two nights ago, when he had gotten up out of bed to use the toilet. He had groped in the darkness to switch on the oil lamp resting on the table between him and James. When he had flicked it on, he rubbed his eyes to try to adjust them to the light. Indirectly across the room was the only other person awake at the hour; Remus.

Sirius squinted at him sleepily. “What’re you doing awake?” he had asked the boy.

“I could ask you the same question,” Remus had said in a low voice, much too steadily for someone up at three in the morning. He must’ve been awake for quite awhile.

“I’ve got to use the toilet,” Sirius explained as he climbed out of the four-poster bed.

Remus watched him solemnly, mutely, as he had hurried, rather uncomfortably, across the boy’s dormitory and down the stairs.

“Wonder where James is,” Remus repeated, at loss of what else to say. They were back on the bench, in the middle of snow-covered Hogsmeade.

“Yeah, you said that before,” Sirius sighed, still dwelling on how disappointing it was that he couldn’t think of anything to say to one of his best friends.

Remus nodded slowly. He hesitated at first, and then asked slowly, “Ever kissed someone under mistletoe?”

The spur-of-the-moment question caught Sirius off guard. He raised his eyebrows. “Huh. Well, I suppose so,” He scrunched his face up in thought. “A year or so ago, I think. It must’ve been Eliza Woodworth.” He thought back to the coy, black-haired girl who had slithered her way next to him under the doorframe that night. She had grabbed him by the neck and proceeded to shove her tongue in his mouth. Off guard as he had been, he didn’t think once to protest. “How about you?”

Remus hesitated, and then shook his head, lowering his eyes to his feet, which he was swinging back and forth under his seat.

“Oh,” Sirius shrugged. “It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be, really. It’s just like plain old kissing.”

A shadow gradually trickled over them as the time ticked by and the sun began to set. A witch outside of her store hexed her broom to sweep dust and debris away from her storefront and the stream of shoppers began to dwindle down.

“What’s it like?” Remus asked curiously.

“Kissing?” Sirius raised his eyebrows at him.

Remus nodded.

“You’ve never kissed before?” Sirius asked the boy incredulously. “Never?”

Remus shook his head. “Not that way, at least,” he added.

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius slapped his forehead. “Merlin, Lupin, you’re missing out. I dunno how to describe it. It feels good, I suppose.” He smiled at Remus. “Jeez, we’ve gotta hurry up and find you someone to snog, Moony, and fast.”

Remus grinned and looked down at his hands, resting in his lap. They were stiff and red from the cold. It was almost hard to move them.

“My hands are freezing,” he chuckled in a low voice, holding them up in front of his face and examining them. “I should’ve worn gloves.” He could’ve kicked himself for leaving them back inside his trunk. It’s not that cold out, he’d thought to himself. Just bring a coat and scarf, he’d thought.

“Do…do you want mine?” Sirius suggested slowly.

“No, it’s alright,” Remus protested, but before he could say anything more Sirius dropped the pair of gloves on his lap. “There,” Sirius said. He paused, and then demanded, “Well, put them on, then!” He motioned to the gloves resting on his friend’s lap.

Remus slipped his chapped fingers in the gloves. “Thanks,” he said, trying to be modest although secretly relieved. He flexed his fingers around, trying to ease them into warming up.

“It’s alright,” Sirius said, stuffing his own hands, now bare, into the pockets of his coat. “I mean, now I’m sort of cold, but it’s alright.”

Remus frowned. He held up his gloved hands to his face and said, “Well, now I feel bad that I’ve got your gloves.”

“It’s alright,” Sirius grinned. “You can keep them. For now, at least,”

Remus swallowed and felt another chill run down his back. “It’s getting late,” he observed, as the place grew darker. A considerable fewer number of wizards and witches were roaming around, and across the street at Honeydukes a ‘closed for the holidays’ sign materialized on the front door.

“I reckon James’ll be back inside by now,” Sirius said, jumping up off of the bench. “We’d better get inside to. Best not freeze our arses off out here.”

“Yeah,” Remus followed suit. “I don’t want to miss dinner, either. I’m hungry.”

“We should’ve tried some other place to get butterbeer, you know,” Sirius said as they began to walk down the street. “I was in the mood for it.”

“They’ll probably have it in the Great Hall,” Remus assured him. “They usually do around this time of year.”

“You know what I’m really in the mood for, though?” Sirius said. “Pumpkin Pasties,” At once he closed his eyes briefly and hummed, “Mmm.” A smile crawled on his face.

“Licorice wands,” Remus continued dreamily, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling a grin was wide as Sirius’. “Hell, I could kick myself for not remembering to stop at Honeydukes to get some Licorice wands.”

“And Every Flavored Beans,” Sirius reminded him. “Don’t forget the Beans.”

They walked past the entrance of Hogsmeade and started up the path to the Hogwarts grounds.

Trudging up the cobbled, dilapidated stone steps with their arms wrapped around themselves, most of the trek up the hill towards the considerably flatter grounds of Hogwarts was endured in silence.

The lack of discussion made Sirius want to cringe. He felt himself thinking back to just a few days ago, when the Remus had warily watched the other three marauders try to transfigure a wreath just above the first stair towards the girl’s dormitory into a gargoyle.

“You don’t like that sort of thing, much, do you?” Sirius had asked Remus, who was resting against the wall. Sirius fell back behind James and Peter, dropping his wand to his side.

“Not really,” Remus answered him. “But I can always be lookout. You know, in case anyone comes around.”

“That’s helpful,” Sirius had said. A sudden squawk came from the wreath; it was currently a prickly green parrot, covered in little red berries.

James frowned and scratched the side of his head, while stout little Peter, red in the face, wheezed beside him, winded from concentrating on performing the hex. “Maybe we’re not pronouncing it right,” he had murmured to himself before lifting his wand again. Peter joined him with a slight groan.

“It’s my way of paying you lot back, I suppose,” Remus shrugged. “I mean, you keep an eye out for me, with, well…” His eyes traveled downward where he scuffed his shoes against the wooden .floorboards.

“…Your furry little problem?” James finished his sentence. He waved his wand at the parrot, which now had the head of a cat. “Damn it,” he mumbled.

“Right. That.” Remus had nodded. “The company means a lot to me.” He said quietly, lifting his eyes back up and looking at Sirius.

Sirius stared back at him warily before James snapped, “Oi! Padfoot! You gonna help with this bloody beast or not?” while Peter struggled to wrestle out from grip of what had now looked like a half-cat, half-gnome with long tentacles.

Sirius paused when he got to the top of the hill, staring thoughtfully at highest towers of Hogwarts. The sky was a dark blue now, and the yellow stars contrasted their background and twinkled boastfully up above.

“What’re you looking at?” Remus appeared by his side.

Sirius snapped his head back to Remus. “Nothing really,” he said. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Remus nodded as they began to head to the closest entrance into the castle. “About what?”

“I dunno, Remus,” Sirius shrugged. “Just things.”

“What kind of things?” Remus continued.

Sirius sighed. “Just thinking back to Monday night, that’s all,” he told the other boy, rather disgruntled by his nosiness.

“Oh. You mean when Linda Weinstein threatened to report us for turning the wreath into…erm, whatever that was?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded.

“I don’t like her very much,” Remus decided.

“She likes you,” Sirius snorted. “In fact, you’re probably the reason she didn’t report us.”

“Well, she’s a right pain sometimes, always trying to sit next to me in the Great Hall,” Remus scowled. He recalled that very morning, when petite little Linda had wriggled her way in between the two very same boys during breakfast, taking the liberty of picking at anything on Remus’ plate that he hadn’t eaten and trying to spurn casual conversation with him.

“Why don’t you snog her?” Sirius suggested teasingly. “I bet she wouldn’t mind.” He snickered at the idea.

“I don’t want to snog Linda Weinstein,” Remus grumbled, tromping up the large stone steps precluding the huge, wooden front doors that led into the corridor by the Great Hall.

“Then who do you want to snog?” Sirius asked, hurrying up beside him to the topmost step.

Remus was quiet for a moment. “I dunno,” he answered curtly, with a stiff shrug.

They paused at the front doors.

“Can’t think of anyone?” Sirius asked him, cocking his head.

Remus shook his head, glancing upward for an excuse not to look the other boy in the eyes. He could feel Sirius staring at him, curiously, anxiously, and wished that he had never even mentioned anything about kissing before.

“Hey,” he said quietly, noticing the small little sprig of leaves and berries suspended above them. “They put mistletoe up there. Speak of the devil.”

Sirius looked up also, to see that there was indeed a clipping of mistletoe hanging over their heads. He looked back down at Remus, who was staring at him in a light, almost expectant way.

A moment trickled by, where the two of them stood staring nervously at one another, white breath curling in out and out the mouths that hung ajar, the mouths that weren’t sure whether they should speak first or not.

But it was Sirius who finally broke the silence and spoke first. “No matter what you seem to think, I’m telling you,” he said in a low voice, his face neutral as he slowly and gingerly leaned forward. “It’s really not all that’s it’s cracked up to be. Don’t be disappointed.”