Unofficial Portkey Archive

In the Tower

Chapter Ten: Merry Christmas

Summary: LJ in a tower. Yeah, you should get the drift.

Disclaimer: NONE! J.K.! That should about say it.

Author's Note: JAMES THEN SIRIUS. ATTENTION, IN MY WONDERFUL LITTLE STORY, TODAY IS CHRISTMAS! So I'm seven months late. I think I'm five months early. I am going to make James sing French. Translations will be at the bottom. The song, "Complainte De La Butte," belongs to whoever happened to write the songs for, "Moulin Rouge!"

My all time favorite chapter is coming soon. Chapter thirteen. It is: INSANE DUMBLEDORE! I loved him, he made me laugh.

Previously: They both grinned at each other as they jogged back down to the horses and trotted to Katie's house, to get the sufficient makeup for the scare. Needless to say, at the end of the night, he and Katie were both drunk of their laughter, in his room with the horses put away neatly and all the tack in the appropriate places. Sirius slunk into the place where he knew the Potter's had all their alcohol, and stole two bottles of whiskey, and then sneaked back up to his room where Katie was sitting upside down on his bed like he had so long ago with James. Needless to say, they both got quite drunk and fell asleep on the bed next to each other; all of their clothing still on.

"Christian, You may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden gnome whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels. But I know about art and Love, if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being." Toulouse-Lautrec, Moulin Rouge!

James looked at Lily with a slight smile playing on his lips. Her red hair was splayed out around her head like a halo, and she in turn had a smile on her sleeping face. He looked at the watch he had on his wrist, it said only nine forty-five. He growled at it in frustration and stood from the bed and ate some muffins and made some French Vanilla Coffee. He had a thing for French things, if you cannot tell.

He looked at his watch again, and it glared up at him nine fifty-nine. Still not time to wake her. He pressed a button on the watch and it told him he had forty-three seconds until he could wake her. James took a reassuring gulp of coffee, feeling it burn its way down is throat and come to a halt in his stomach. He thought about which song to sing to Lily, a Christmas song or something else. He shrugged.

He didn't even know if she liked Christmas music. He himself never really did, because they only play the same songs with the same singers over and over again and you can't help but getting them stuck in your head. Thank gracious and the gods even though he didn't believe in the gods, that at least Sirius, Remus and Peter stuck him and Lily in here without a Wizarding Wireless!

A sweet melody came in his head, and he blushed as he remembered the words to the song. Oh well. At least, he hoped, Lily didn't know French! He had sung to random people when they were around him when he was drunk, and who happened to know French because that's the only language he liked to sing in, they told him he was quite good. Well, he yawned, signaling to himself that… oh well he forgot what, but it was in the place it needed to be when he sung. Anyway, he opened his mouth, and the throaty, smooth baritone of his came out of his mouth. And then he sung.

La lune trop blême
Pose un diadème
Sur tes cheveux roux
La lune trop rousse
De gloire éclabousse
Ton jupon plein d'trous

Les escaliers de la butte sont durs aux miséreux
Les ailes du moulin protègent les amoureux

Lily looked up at him and yawned. "Ten, already then?" He yelped and fell off from the perch of where he sat the small kitchen table, and landed hard on the stone.

"Ack!" He screamed, jumping up and rubbing a hand over the forming bruise.

"Merry Christmas!" She said happily.

"Same." He rubbed his behind again and felt its beat against his hand. He looked at her and smirked. "Kiss it to make it better?" He asked her invitingly.

"Yeah, sure." She told him rolling her eyes not even hiding her sarcasm.

"Really?" He asked. He didn't realize she was being sarcastic.

She stopped in mid-yawn and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "No." He blushed a bit he found he was doing around her often, and looked away. "We're you singing to me? In French?"

"Er," He said looking at anything but her. Then he looked her in the eyes and said defiantly, "Yes, I was."

"It was good. Really hot." He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she couldn't help but laugh at his comical face. Then she muttered, "I know French."

"Oh good gods." He said, turning his back to her and hitting his head on the wall.

"Thank you for telling me that I `I feel, beggar-girl, your fetters, they curl as they seek out my wrists. I feel your young breasts, your thin little waist. I lose my regrets. I taste on your mouth the feverish breath of a half-starving waif. And with your caress I sense drunkenness erasing my life.' You had me blushing while you sung."

"I didn't know you were awake." James complained.

"And I didn't know you could sing, let alone sing well. And it French. Turned me on there to tell you the truth, James." She said, getting up and heading toward the bathroom. James banged his head harder against the wall until he heard the door shut.

"I didn't exactly want you to hear!" James moaned, hitting his head harder on the wall.

"What?" She snorted, coming out of the bathroom. "Well, at least you had the courage to sing to me."

"Sing." James told her shortly. She stopped in mid-chew of her cranberry muffin.

"What?"

"I said, `sing.' Please? You heard me!"

"James, I don't sing."

"Please!" He said down on his hands and knees puckering out his lower lip and looked like a lost puppy.

She glared, but burst into song. Singing, "The French are glad to die for Love...
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental. But diamonds are a girl's best friend! A kiss may be grand, but it won't pay the rental. On your humble flat or help you feed your pussycat. Men grow cold as girls grow old and we all lose our charms in the end. But square-cut or pear-shaped these rocks don't lose their shape; diamonds are a girl's best friend..."

He looked up at her. She kissed him quickly on the cheek for no reason at all and hurried into the bathroom again to take her daily shower.

"This has to be some dream!" James said loudly enough for Lily to hear over the rush of water.

Lily came out laughing and ringing her hair out and putting it in a simple loose ponytail. "James, if this was a dream, I'm sure your perverted mind would have me snogging you right now." He gave her a brilliant smile.

"You could be." She scoffed at him and his smile, if could, got a watt bigger.

"If it's your dream, this is my nightmare."

He quickly replied, "Some get better!"

"Some get even worse. This could be one of those."

"You never know." She shrugged.

"You're right, you don't."

"Still don't want to kiss me?" He asked, stepping closer to her inconspicuously.

"No."

"You want to kiss me?" He asked her, incredulously.

"I didn't say that either." She said, stepping closer to him with a queer look in her eyes.

"Are you feeling well?" He immediately said, putting a hand to her forehead.

"I don't know." She said, pulling closer to him. "Do I feel well?" She purred. He gulped and looked around her without trying to look at him.

"Why are you doin' this?" He said in a high strained voice, as he felt her edge closer still. He looked down at her just as she looked up. And then he moaned as he felt her body press against his. He shook his head to himself and thought, `She's doing it now! My god!' She got closer. `THANK YOU SIRIUS, REMUS AND PETER!'

"Christmas present." Before he could say anything she said in the same tone, "Happy Christmas." And then pushed her lips onto his.

Katie lay there bemused watching Sirius snore and see drool slowly drip out of his mouth. She snorted and rubbed her head on one of the silk pillows strewn across his bed. It was cold, and the cool fabric made the headache not throb as badly. She looked over at the clock and as soon as she did, it chimed. She yowled and threw her head in the cool pillow, but it couldn't block out the thrumming of her pulse and blood in her heart. It chimed ten times.

Sirius suddenly woke up, and looked over at her. "Merry Christmas," she mumbled. He grunted, and got up shakily to his feet, and stumbled into the bathroom that adjoined his and James's room. He came out with two vials of something that was smoking. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hangover… crap." Was all he said before he uncorked his and let it slip down into his mouth and swallow it. He instantly had more color in his face, though his face had one where someone just had something disgusting.

"I'm not drinking it if you think it's disgusting. You eat everything." Katie said putting her face back into a pillow. Then she flipped it, the other side had gotten warm.

"Do it!" Sirius bellowed playfully in her ear and she instantly shrieked, regretted it, shrieked again, and slammed her head into the pillow. "It really will make you feel better!" She shook her head. "Do you really want a hangover on Christmas?" She reached a hand out, and he put the vial in.

"Because I don't want my parent's thinking I was drinking." She told him, as she swallowed it down.

"Of course not," he agreed sarcastically, and she instantly threw the vial against the wall because of the taste.

"That's disgusting!" She yelled at him, stomping through the bathroom into James's room.

"You agreed!" Sirius told her hotly, walking after her.

"It's Christmas!"

"Gah!" He finally yelled. "I'm getting in the shower!"

"Okay!" But she didn't say it madly as before, she said it happily. "You smell bad, I can smell you through the door."

"You don't exactly smell like roses either."

"Roses don't smell good." She retorted, sitting on James's black cotton comforter and looking up at the red ceiling.

"Well you don't smell that good either!" He retorted pathetically and he knew it for he instantly jumped in the shower and turned it on full blast.

Katie snuggled into James's blankets and looked around his room. Quidditch posters waved at her and grinned, making cat calling motions. Well, she could see why. Apparently all she was wearing resembled a toga. She didn't know how Sirius made her wear a toga when she was supposed to be a ghost from the sixteenth century, but she didn't care as he chose it. It was rather fun, wearing a toga.

James seemed to have sophisticated tastes for a seventeen-year-old. His room was neat, and as she looked in his closet, they were all neatly hung and there were no wrinkles in the shirts, jackets or jeans. She wondered how he could be such a… gentleman in reality, when at school he acted like such a egotistical jerk. Did he think that he could pick up Lily by being a cold façade?

Katie got up and looked at herself in his floor length mirror. Okay, so he must be a tiny bit vain. She had dark circles under her eyes and her dark brown hair was sticking out around her head and tangled. She ran her fingers through it so many times it looked quite straight and neat. She grabbed some of James's clothes and changed into them.

Well, the waist of his jeans were a bit big, so she waved her wand and muttered a few well chosen words, and then instantly clung to her frame, but loosely. His clothes, though quite big on her, she didn't mind. She then went to his desk and wrote quickly on some parchment and with his most treasured Eagle Feather Quill, capitalization needed two quick letters. One to James, telling him something randomly like thanks for the shirt. The other was to Sirius, telling him that she went home and would be back when she was cleaned up and her family opened presents. She gathered her toga in her arms and the letter, placing it on Sirius's bed before heading down and out of the Potter's home.

She put her toga in a random saddlebag, and then placed her saddle and saddlebag on Clam Chowder, before putting in the bit and riding, slowly, home.

Sirius came out of the shower and looked out the window just in time to see her starting to canter away, her long hair streaming out behind her. He shrugged indifferently and dried himself than did a spell for his long lovely hair. The Potter's had a little barrier on their house letting underage students to be able to use magic. But then again, Sirius already was of age.

He ran down the main set of stairs still getting a plain white shirt over his head, then turned with the shirt still blocking his vision and ran down another set of stairs. He finally had it on, but was now racing down the stairs and couldn't see a thing; his hair was now in the way. He pushed it out of the way just in time to not run right into Mr. Potter. "Hello!" He gasped out. Mister Potter smiled at him gently.

"Good thing you're coming down now. Marie was just sending me up to get you." Sirius smiled at him and tucked some hair behind his ear. "Katie already leave?" Mister Potter, Jerome for now on, said conversationally as they went down another set of stairs and a rather long and big hallway.

"Yeah." Sirius said, dazed. He forgot how big the Potter house was, and got lost in it at least three times each time he happened to be there.

"You okay, Sirius?" Jerome said, and Sirius nodded. "I'm being serious." Sirius looked at him.

"So am I." He said for the first time without saying the old joke. Yeah, it was getting old to him too. "I mean it Jerome." He said with finality in it.

"Okay, well!" He said lightly and happily to Sirius, as they finally made it to the only small room in the whole house. The Living room. It was only a little smaller than Sirius's room, and compared to his old room, which fit a bookshelf, bed, dresser, closet, desk and hamper, it was enormous. So, it was actually big. The Christmas tree took up most the room though.

"Merry Christmas, Sirius!" Marie, Mrs. Potter, said happily as she bustled in carrying sugar, chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies, along with caramel and chocolate brownies, and of course, milk and eggnog.

"You too, Marie!" Sirius said, rushing up and kissing her cheek before taking two of each the cookies and brownies. He refereed, if you couldn't tell already, to the Potter's on first name basis. They insist it. He instantly put on the Santa hat that the Potter's always bring out, and started handing their gifts to them. He had gotten Marie a little necklace that had a big ole ruby in it, and for Jerome he got a rather large book with tons of Quidditch History and facts. Loads of pictures, but there was way more facts than pictures.

And they, well they got him way more than he deserved really. They got him loads upon loads of chocolates and brownies and then Quidditch things, and loads of it. By this time Katie had come back and was sitting next to Sirius on the couch, lounging with a lazy smile on as she watched Marie's face as she opened the present Katie gave her and found a silk cloak for cold mornings. And then Jerome's face lit up as he opened his rather large present and found a set of things to clean all his broomsticks with. He had practically run to her and was hugging her jumping up and down. She hugged back with equal enthusiasm.

She had gotten them lots of presents really, but I the author don't have enough time to explain all of them.

Sirius had gotten Katie an extremely wonderful diamond necklace, which changed colors with her mood. Right now they were periwinkles. She had practically kissed him she was so happy. In fact, I believe she did. But only because Jerome and Marie happen to levitate one of those Mistletoe things so that once it was over them it wouldn't let them out without some serious kissing.

He pulled back and the mistletoe had moved on. He grinned down at her. "That was fun." She nodded, dazed. "We should do that again sometime." She nodded the same way. The Potter's were laughing at them.

"Merry Christmas…" Katie said in a low voice.

"Merry Christmas," Sirius echoed. They kissed again. The Potter's laughed harder.

JAMSIE! (I had to go back. I needed to put something in.)

She pulled back, smiling stupidly at him. He had stars revolving around his head. Not really, of course. She pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose so he could see clearly. "Je goûte sur votre bouche le souffle fiévreux d'un enfant abandonné de moitié meurt de faim. To make it complicated." He breathed out.

She slapped him on the arm. "I am not a homeless person!"

"Too bad, it sounded good." He said, and then kissed her again.

Translations: I promised translations, and now I'm giving it. This whole song is what is in French up there.

The moon, all too fair, in your russet-red hair sets a sparkling crown,
The moon, all too red with glory, is spread on your poor, tattered gown.
The moon, all too white, caresses the light in your world-weary eyes,
Princess of the street, do allow me to greet you, my broken heart cries.

The steps of Montmartre, all uphill, are hardest on the poor,
The sails of the mill, like wings, shelter all paramours.

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