Chapter Text
"I don't celebrate Christmas."
James paused, his grip on the personalized stocking tightening. His mum had embroidered "BARTY" across the top, and a cozy scene of a snowball fight below it. "What do you mean, you don't celebrate Christmas?"
Barty regarded his boyfriend coolly. "James, how long have you known me?"
Instead of answering that question, James asked cautiously, "Do you prefer to celebrate something else? Yule, maybe?"
"I would prefer to hibernate through the entire wretched season, but since that is regrettably not an option, we can stick with 'I don't celebrate Christmas.' I'll thank your mum for the stocking," Barty added, with what for him was an entire Santa's worth of magnanimity. "But I'm not opening those presents."
"That's fucking stupid," Sirius said from across the room, where he had already torn into his own stocking and was now wearing it as a hat. "No matter what your problem with the holiday is, you can still enjoy some chocolate on St. Nick's Day. What is your problem, anyway?"
"Capitalism," Barty said shortly. "You can split it, I don't care. I'm gonna go take a shower."
"You got out of the shower two hours ago. I know because I was there!" James called after him, but Barty moved fast when he wanted to, and he was out of the room before anyone could move to block him.
"It's no use trying," Regulus said softly, his delicate fingers unwrapping a fancy icicle ornament, which he bestowed a smile upon. "Bee just hates Christmas."
"Hates Christmas?" James had been prepared to accept "doesn't celebrate," albeit with a terrible wrench behind his ribs at the notion. But this was outrageous. "Nobody hates Christmas. Sure, you can hate the commercialization of Christmas, but the actual heart and soul of the holiday - spending time with loved ones, exchanging thoughtful gifts, gingerbread and eggnog and joy - that's for everybody."
Evan gently took the stocking from James. "Darling, not everyone had your upbringing," he murmured. "Barty has reasons to avoid the entire scene. Did you not notice last year that he practically became a recluse for the entire month of December? And then he and I went on our trip to Rio?"
"Well, yeah, but I wasn't dating the two of you last year," James pointed out. "It was no skin off my nose what you chose to do for Christmas."
"We explicitly did not do it for Christmas. Just during Christmas."
Sirius leapt up at that. "Wait a second," he said. "You're not going to do the same thing this year, are you? 'Cause we are, in fact, dating now, and Christmas is a time for family."
It was always nice to watch Evan melt, affection brightening his eyes, and James reached out to catch his hand. "Don't go to Rio with Barty," he pleaded. "Whatever his problem is with Christmas, I promise it's not like that in our family, and you two are part of our family now. Regulus missed you like hell last year, and now it's all four of us who would miss you like hell - both of you. Barty can be all Grinchy if he wants, but he should be here, not halfway around the world."
"I think we already have tickets to Cancun, darling," Evan said. "I'm sorry. But you'll hardly notice we aren't there. Come on, let's see what you got in your stocking, shall we?"
James did his best to enjoy the stocking experience, but it was severely soured by this new discovery about his boyfriend. It had only been six months since Barty and Evan had officially joined their relationship, turning a foursome into a sextet - heavy emphasis on the sex with the two of them, but there was real, genuine love there, too. Barty was prickly and brilliant and James adored him, and he'd been looking forward to sharing all the Potter family traditions, the same way he had with Sirius and Remus and Regulus. But now - it wasn't as if Barty was just going to take himself out of the equation, Evan would go with him, a stinging reminder that the two of them would always be a couple even in the midst of something greater. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.
Apart from Evan's vague reference to Barty's upbringing, neither he nor Regulus was especially forthcoming about what the problem was. James, a problem-solver by nature, refused to let it drop, though. The best thing to do was go straight to the source, so he waited a few days before he pounced, sidling into the bathroom while Barty was brushing his teeth.
"You took down the mistletoe," James noted with some surprise.
"I took down a whole lot of things," Barty said, eyes fixed on himself in the mirror, voice muffled by his toothbrush. He spat out the frothy paste and listed, "The fuzzy red toilet cover, the wreath on the back of the door, the snowflake stickers on my window, and you'll notice I don't have a shower curtain, because you stole mine and replaced it with a monstrosity - "
"That reindeer curtain is my favorite shower curtain," James gasped, affronted. "Where did you put it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Barty shot back. "Also, no one has a favorite shower curtain, you fucking clown."
"I have favorites of practically everything," James insisted.
"I'm sure you do. But I took it as a gift, and I can do what I like with gifts. This is my bathroom, not yours," Barty pointed out.
"I was just trying to make it festive."
"Well, here's a suggestion: don't. I don't do festive."
"But why?" James persisted. "I don't believe for a second it's actually capitalism, Barty. Who hurt you?"
"I don't think it's at all subtle who hurt me," Barty said icily, rinsing off his toothbrush and slamming it down on the counter. "I hate Christmas. Christmas isn't joy, James, it's disappointment and selfishness and, if you want me to be perfectly honest, it's a bloody excuse to feign charity and compassion. Christmas is for show-offs. And while you are my favorite show-off - a more sensible thing to have than a favorite shower curtain, you'll note - it's not something I want to participate in. Ever. I've accepted that I'm going to have to stare at your decor all through the rest of the house, because you care about it, and I care about you. But my spaces are off-limits. Got it?"
"Got it," James said miserably, though his tongue promptly ran away with him. "The thing is, you've never had a Christmas with us, and maybe if you tried it, and formed some new associations, you - "
Barty was a good foot shorter than James, built lean and lithe; in spite of the fact that James should have had a significant strength advantage over his boyfriend, Barty somehow always caught him unawares. The Slytherin hooked his ankle behind James's and kicked out, making him stumble. While he was off-balance, Barty grabbed him by the front of his jumper and spun them both so that James was pushed up against the counter, effectively caged by Barty's body and sure stance.
"I think somebody needs a reminder of his place," Barty said, his words as sharp as his smile, leaning up to kiss James. "If you want to provoke me, you'll have to live with the consequences."
As long as the consequences were no worse than being bent over Barty's sink, watching in the mirror as his boyfriend shoved inside with minimal preparation, fisting a hand in James's hair, they would be all right, James figured. But if Barty thought he could fuck the Christmas spirit right out of James, he was dead wrong. All it proved was that James had to go about it a different way, once he'd stopped being a boneless post-orgasmic heap.
Evan and Regulus were obviously used to Barty's Grinch-like ways, and Remus was inclined to respect his boundaries. Usually, of course, James would have too, and maybe if it weren't for Sirius, he would have backed down, at least for this year. But Sirius, if anything, was even more incensed by Barty's disgust for the holidays than James was; James walked in on a flaming row a few days later.
"I'm just saying, I've been where you are," Sirius snapped. "You think Christmas at Grimmauld Place was anything but a nightmare? It sucked! Of course it sucked! It was boring and nothing mattered except being perfect. It was like being a dress-up doll for unsmiling photographs, holding presents I was barely allowed to unwrap, let alone enjoy. But when I moved in with the Potters, it was different. You'd see if you made an effort."
"I'm not big on effort," Barty said coolly, examining his fingernails.
"You got twelve OWLs," James pointed out.
"That was out of pure spite," Barty drawled. "And out of pure spite, I will never celebrate Christmas. I'll be tanning on the beach, and you'll be lucky if I bother to come home to your pasty arse. Carry on like this and I'll take Regulus with me, too."
That was calculated to intensify Sirius's fury, and he devolved into unintelligible yowls of rage. Barty took his book and stormed off, and once James had calmed Sirius down, he asked, "What set him off this time, anyway?"
"He ran into the Christmas tree coming down the stairs and told me to move it or he'd burn it," Sirius said. "And frankly, I believed him. It doesn't fit anywhere else, that's the trouble."
"We could sort of move it in front of the bar," James mused.
"I don't want to give in to his tantrums! Next thing you know he'll make us shove it in the alchemy room, or the attic, or something, so it's out of sight and out of mind." Sirius flung himself onto the couch. "We both know how much good it would do him to get used to things he hated as a kid. How do we convince him?"
"I have no idea," James said. "But I know who might."
Visits to the Potter home were frequent, and Effie wasn't at all surprised to see them the next day. "Hello, loves," she said, giving each of her boys a kiss on the cheek. "What brings you here?"
"Just wanted to say hello to my mum," James said cheerfully. "And also we're having a bit of a domestic dispute with Barty."
"Oh, dear," she sighed. "Well, come sit down and tell me all about it."
Although Monty and Effie's relationship was preternaturally wonderful, at least as far as James was concerned, he had no doubt in his mum's ability to solve their problem with diplomacy and tact once he'd spilled the beans. "He hates everything about Christmas," he lamented. "It's actually uncanny, Mum. He hasn't set foot outside in two weeks because he says the lights outside give him a headache, and that he's fighting back the urge to stab Stanley the Snowman in the eye."
"He bought expensive specialty Floo powder," Sirius said, leaning his head wearily against his hand. "To turn the flames purple instead of green."
"It would be one thing if he didn't want to exchange presents, but it's everything. He won't come to the gingerbread house competition, he keeps hiding my reindeer biscuit tin in the cupboard, and then there's this stupid plan to go to Cancun. I saw the tickets," James said. "He's leaving on Christmas Eve. Long international Floo hop, and I bet you anything he locks himself in the hotel room until Boxing Day, just on the off chance that some clerk will wish him happy holidays."
"It sounds like Barty has some pretty significant trauma surrounding Christmas, love," Effie said gently.
Sirius grunted. "C'mon, Mum. You know that if it was actual trauma, we wouldn't be arseholes about it," he said. From the look on her face, James surmised that his mother was doing everything in her power not to let on that she doubted this. "But as far as we can tell, it's not, not really. I managed to wrestle more information out of Reg about it. It's the same shite it always is, not even a secret or anything. His dad always had to work and his mum wouldn't let him celebrate until his dad got home, he resents both of them, he got his feelings about Christmas all twisted up as a result."
"And we could untwist them," James told Effie. "If we knew where to start, that is."
Tragically, she did not have a miracle solution for him. "This relationship is still fairly new to all of you, love," Effie pointed out. "Barty needs time to figure out how to fit into this family, and you can't force it to happen on your timeline, no matter how much you wish for it."
She probably wasn't wrong, James thought glumly - in the moment. This whole dynamic was a lot newer than he tended to give it credit for, because they'd all been dancing around each other in one way or another for years. Barty had been his fuckbuddy a hell of a lot longer than he'd been James's boyfriend; it had taken so bloody long for him to decide it was acceptable to relate to him and Sirius and Remus on a more intimate, emotional level...
Hold on a second.
Obviously he didn't spit out his idea in front of Effie, but once they'd gotten back to the house, he told Sirius eagerly, "I think I might know how we can do this without waiting for next year. What if we could force him to appreciate the kind of Christmas we're offering?"
A familiar glint in Sirius's eye assured James that he was on the right track, and to make sure they weren't overheard, he dragged his boyfriend outside to scheme under the watchful, warding eyes of Stanley the Snowman.