The Marauders' Notes

I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day

A/N: So, it's the Christmas chapter! I feel a bit odd posting this in September... Oh well. At least it's cooled down to like 65 around here (as opposed to 90 all week). I'm wearing a fuzzy sweater and listening to Nightmare Before Christmas, so it's all good.

Lovely reviewers, you're so awesome and I don't know what I'd do without you. You have exceed every hope I had for this story. I love you all. Spiced apples (cause they're awesome and I wish I had some...) are your reward. Thank you all.

~esin

Chapter Thirty-Three: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas day,

Their old familiar carols play.

And wild and sweet the words repeat,

Of peace on Earth, good will to men.

The Marauders' Annual Christmas Run-Down

Midnight, Christmas Day, 25 December 1977

Mr. Padfoot shall now recount the tale of his best Christmas in years.

Mr. Prongs shall join him (and not have a ridiculously long heading).

Mr. Padfoot would like to point out that Mr. Prongs' header was indeed long.

Mr. Prongs resents that.

Anyway. On with the tale.

Yes. On with the tale.

Mr. Moony requests that that list of gifts be omitted from this year's recap of Christmas. He's tired and wants to go to bed sometime soon.

Mr. Wormtail seconds that motion.

Mr. Padfoot concedes. But be prepared for a full recitation at New Years'...

Mr. Moony can live with that. Please continue.

Mr. Prongs was woken this morning by some large, wet, and hairy flying at his poor innocent face.

Mr. Padfoot finds morning rolls in the snow amusing.

Nearly as amusing as I do. Not.

I know.

I hate you.

I know.

Mr. Moony requests that petty arguments be handled in person and not on the parchment.

That would work if Padfoot and I hadn't been sent to separate ends of the house for the night as punishment.

Mr. Wormtail has a bad feeling about this.

Mr. Moony agrees. Continue.

The morning continued in good Christmas cheer with presents and breakfast and a whole host of other lovely things.

Mr. Padfoot particularly enjoyed—

No presents, Padfoot.

I was going to mention Mrs. Potter's excellent coffee cake.

Mr. Moony supposes that's fine then.

It was heavenly. Seriously. I could eat that all that.

Mr. Prongs believes that Mr. Padfoot did indeed eat it all day. The afternoon went well. It wasn't until dinner that things started.

Mr. Wormtail has a really bad feeling about this.

Mr. Padfoot insists that it was all Mr. Prongs' fault. He had nothing to do with it.

Mr. Prongs resents that as well. It was your fault.

Was not.

Was too.

Was not.

Was too.

Mr. Moony begs Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Prongs to recall what he said about petty arguments.

Oops.

Mr. Padfoot isn't sorry.

Mr. Prongs is.

Isn't.

Is.

Isn't.

Is.

Mr. Moony feels the need to communicate his sigh.

Mr. Wormtail wishes it was his turn already.

Mr. Prongs does not regret informing him that it isn't.

Mr. Padfoot begs Mr. Wormtail to wait his turn.

Mr. Prongs hates being separated like this.

Mr. Padfoot hates it too. Separated! Lost and alone! Without a friend for company.

Mr. Prongs misses Mr. Padfoot too.

Mr. Moony wonders when Mr. Padfoot is going to grow out of being a drama queen.

Mr. Padfoot resents that.

Mr. Wormtail wonders why he's even friends with all of you.

Mr. Prongs thinks that because you love us.

We still haven't heard why you two are separated.

We might have charmed dinner to do a tango over the table.

And might have spilled it everywhere in the process.

And turned it green.

And traumatized a few house elves.

Ah. I see. Mr. Moony believes it is now Mr. Wormtail's turn to tell about his Christmas. That is, if Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Prongs are finished.

We're finished.

Yep. Done.

Mr. Wormtail had a good Christmas over all.

Mr. Prongs thinks that's very nice.

Mr. Wormtail begs his friends not to interrupt.

Of course.

Mr. Wormtail has a very enjoyable Christmas. For breakfast he ate French toast with maple syrup and some of them with strawberry syrup instead. He had three pieces of that French toast. There was also sausage and orange juice and coffee and he had some of the chocolate frogs he had gotten. He opened his presents—but he won't list them cause that was forbidden—and after that he ate lunch.

Mr. Padfoot wonders if Mr. Wormtail is seriously going to list everything he ate.

Mr. Wormtail was going to, yes.

Mr. Prongs believes this to be a breach of the corollary to the no-listing-presents rule.

Mr. Moony would agree.

Mr. Wormtail is hurt.

Don't be. We just don't need to hear everything you ate today, Wormy.

If Mr. Wormtail is given leave to list his food, Mr. Padfoot wants to list his presents.

Mr. Wormtail does not want that under any circumstances.

Mr. Padfoot believes it to be settled then: we'll both list.

Or neither of you will.

What? Nooooo. Not cool, Moony.

Mr. Prongs is tired. He's going to sleep now.

Mr. Padfoot is sleepy too. Being punished is tiring work.

Mr. Moony isn't even going to point out the problems with that statement.

Good. Mr. Padfoot is too tired to listen. Later guys.

Mr. Wormtail thinks he can hear his parents coming to check on him. See you at New Years' Moony.

And just like every year, Mr. Moony finds himself alone on Christmas night, not yet having told about his holiday. For anyone who's wondering, I had a very nice Christmas. My mother is feeling better and we had a nice time together at home. The gifts and food were nice… I feel stupid talking to myself like this. Thanks for nothing, guys.

A/N: Thanks for reading and Merry not-Christmas. :D

Love you all.

~esin

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