chapter one — christmas eve, remember?
December 25th, 1976

      Every single year, ever since they were little kids running around with snot dripping from their noses, Maurice and James had an ongoing tradition that took place on every year. It was rather silly to people who did not know them, the history they shared, but spending Christmas Eve together was very special for them. It had been an entire month since he became a death eater against his will, since he was forced to be on the wrong side of history.

      During that entire month Maurice would cry himself to sleep, the only days where his pain would be put at ease was when he would see James and Sirius, or as Ethel would refer to him that... that blood traitor. A soft knock came from his bedroom door, he hummed in response and on the other side of the door was a rather short clumsy elf, his elf, though he hated calling Tobbs his as if he was an object. "Master Maurice," The house elf announced as he waddled into the bedroom, a plate teeter tottering in his hands "Tobbs has brought Maurice dinner." He spoke, placing the plate of food on his desk.

      "Thank you, but I won't have dinner here, Tobbs," A small smile appeared on Maurice's face "it's Christmas Eve, remember?" The house elf stood by the foot of his bed, hands crossed behind his back, the few strands of hair on his head were always swooped to the side. Every single year on Christmas Eve, Maurice would join the Potters for dinner, they were a second family to him.

      Maurice stood up from his bed, walking over to the plate of food Tobbs brought up, grabbing a slice of turkey. "Oh, that is correct," he paused, climbing up onto the bed. "Master Maurice is spending Christmas eve with Sir James Potter and his family!" The elf exclaimed.

      "Is nan home?" He queried, slightly bending his knees to be on eye level with his beloved house elf. "She promised she would join the Potters for dinner this year." There used to be a time when she would accompany him to the Potter Manor, it was the only time of year where she felt like his grandmother, warm and sweet.

      "I do not want to be associated with that blood traitor." She had told him the previous year when she found out Fleamont and Euphemia had taken in a boy, Sirius Black who ran away from home. "Go on without me." Ever since that day, she has not set foot in the Potter Manor.

      "Tobbs is afraid your grandmother is rather occupied at the moment."

      Maurice's heart ached after hearing that word, occupied, he knew she was not really busy with anything. It was a shame, truly, Ethel could not place her own prejudice aside for one day, one dinner. He quickly shrugged it off, nothing was going to ruin Christmas Eve for him, not his grandmother...and not the mark. "Very well, I should head out soon before the snowstorm gets worse." The house elf nodded, quietly walking out of the front door with the plate in his hands.

      He dug through his old wardrobe, blindly feeling around in the dark, trying to find the gift he was planning on giving James. "Found you." He smiled to himself as he pulled out a small box with a red ribbon on it. He draped a scarf around his neck, and patted his ear muffs down as he walked down the main stairs. Where a portrait hugged the wall, it was his great grandfather, Montague Mercier, from his mum's side if he remembered the name correctly.

      As a child Maurice feared the old man in the portrait— to this day he still fears him, sometimes more than his nan. He had a handlebar mustache with thick sideburns, a top hat covering a head full of hair which was rare since he appeared to be on the older side. He was a rather handsome wizard, anyone could see that. As he walked down the stairs, Maurice tried his best to avoid making eye contact with the portrait.

      "Your father has brought a stain on the Mercier bloodline!" The portrait shouted, waving around a walking cane. Maurice tried his best to ignore the portrait every time he walked down the main stairs. For as long as he could remember the portrait would constantly belittle his parents for tarnishing a legacy as the old man said multiple times. He would even find amusement making jabs at Maurice and his condition. "You are a shame to this family..." He shouted over and over again, eventually turning into an echo as Maurice braved the snowstorm.

      As Maurice exhaled a small cloud of warm smoke formed in front of his face, his arms were shaking as he brought his arm up to the door to knock. "Oh, Maurice dear!" Euphemia exclaimed, with a bright smile gracing her lips. "Look at you, you're absolutely freezing, come in come in!" She waved him inside, offering to take his coat and scarf, which she hung by the door.

      Even though it had been a month since that night, his neck was still covered with ghosts of past green bruises which is why he made sure to wear a turtleneck, even if it was itchy. He didn't want to worry the Potters.

      When Maurice was seven years old he was diagnosed with Hemophilia, the diagnosis came after he scraped his knee and elbows on the pavement. After the bleeding had gone on for nearly thirty minutes showing no signs of stopping after Ethel tried to heal him, she rushed him to a muggle hospital. Of course, at the time they had no idea Maurice would be susceptible to muggle illnesses because of the curse running through his veins, a curse he inherited from his father.

       A giant Christmas tree stood proudly in the middle of the two main staircases, colors of green, red, silver and gold were strewn across every branch. They even hung up the many ornaments Maurice had given them over the years, starting with a poorly handmade one he made when he was nine. Ethel refused to give him any galleons to buy them an ornament from an old shop in Diagon Alley, which was now closed down.

      The sweet aroma of fudge pudding and turkey mingled in Maurice's nose as he followed Euphemia deeper into their welcoming home.

      As they walked into the dining hall, where Fleamont sat at the head of the table reading the daily prophet. "Ah, Maurice, my boy!" Fleamont bellowed, neatly folding the newspaper and setting it back on the table. "How have you been?" He asked, standing up from his chair and before Maurice could give any sort of response he wrapped his arms around him.

      In reality, Maurice felt like he was struggling to keep his head above the water, he has not been called on any missions yet, but he suspects that will change once the new year begins. Yet, that is not what came out of his mouth. "I'm doing well," He lied through his teeth. "Anything interesting in the daily prophet?" He looked over his shoulder, gesturing towards the newspaper.

      "Jame, Sirius, come downstairs, Maurice is here!" Euphemia shouted, before turning on her heels to face Maurice. "How is your grandmother doing these days?" She queried, picking up a mug full of her famous hot chocolate.

      "She's doing good."

      In that moment, the sound of footsteps running echoed from the second floor, slightly drowning out the muggle Christmas music playing on the record player— which Maurice was very fond of. It filled his heart with joy every year during the holidays. He walked out to the room with the grand tree admiring it. "There you are!" Before he had the chance to turn around, he felt two sets of arms wrap around him, causing him to lose his balance and sending them tumbling down.

      The three boys broke out in laughter, a tangled mess of limbs. Being in this environment is exactly what Maurice needed, and he didn't care at all if he woke up the next morning with a bruise or two. "Are you two bloody mad?" He chuckled, squirming out of their grip and standing up. "It's so good to see you two!" He immediately wrapped his arms around them.

      "You saw us four days ago," James stated. "I'm still waiting for that rematch. I hope you haven't forgotten about that," he added.

      "You're such a sore loser!" Maurice and Sirius both retorted simultaneously. "But if that's what you want, I can beat you whenever you want again,"Maurice added with a crooked smile. They walked back to the dining hall where the food had been sprawled out on the table. It was all too much for five people, but the boys always made room for more. A small train with flickering lights flew across the air, stopping by every person seated at the table, offering them gravy.

      Fleamont and James were discussing new quidditch strategies that James could use in the upcoming season; he was always looking for new ways to improve at the sport. Maurice auditioned for the Hufflepuff team when he was in his fifth year, but due to his Hemophilia, the team captain, could not, in good conscience, accept him. It took him a couple of weeks to get over the sting of rejection, but he enjoyed cheering for James whenever the Gryffindor team faced off against Slytherin.

      Maurice always considered them family, seeing how they spent Christmas Eve together every single year no matter what they may be going through, it warmed his heart. They were there for each other, while Maurice's only blood relative was a cold power hungry woman who, by all means, was as nurturing as a snake. He practically knew nothing about his parents, besides the curse he inherited from his father. He only had a small photo of his mum which Euphemia gave him and an old book full of little annotations scribbled onto the margins.

      As far as he knows they could be dead. Seeing the life he could've had grimly pulled at his heartstrings. "Sorry, uh, I need a moment," he announced, placing his napkin down on the table keeping his head low to conceal the tears burning in his eyes.

       He swiftly closed the door to the library behind him, letting his tears free fall from his cheek to his chin and then to the ground. His skin slowly turned into a translucent shade of gray as he swiftly floated up to the nearest window, watching the snow cover the world in a blanket, he stared up at the moon hoping his parents were out there somewhere. For some reason he wasn't capable of explaining, he always felt closer to his dad whenever he was a phantom.

      There were soft footsteps from the creaky door which he didn't even notice, there he was leaning on a bookshelf. James always knew when the dark clouds rolled over Maurice's head and he was the only one who knew how to make them disappear. He never spoke a word, he just stood there waiting for his friend to come back to him. After a moment of deafening silence, Maurice spoke up "You know, I have no idea if my dad is a fan of quidditch or not, or if my mum likes gardening or prefers cooking."

      "Well considering that you wanted to join the Hufflepuff quidditch team, I can confidently say your dad is a huge quidditch fan, and I've tasted your cooking" He paused. "It's truly horrible, but I think your mum would know how to make some killer meals." Another quiet pause before Maurice's quiet sobs turned into a soft laughter. "There you are." He smiled to himself.

      "Merlin, I'm so sorry if I ruined Christmas Eve—"

      "Please, you couldn't ruin Christmas Eve even if you tried, come down?" He glanced up at Maurice who was still floating in the air. When they were both eleven years old, Maurice gathered the courage to show James and Sirius his phantom state, he liked to call it that, anything was better than illness. Despite his grandmother's strict instructions to keep it hidden.

      He hummed in response. This part always left James speechless, seeing the life and warmth return to his skin tone as he descended from the air. It was truly a sight to behold. "I know we don't exchange gifts on Christmas," he said, pulling out the small box from his pocket and handing it over to James. He watched in anticipation as he tugged on the red ribbon, letting it spill onto the floor. The expression on his face was truly priceless, how his eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of the pendant.

      "Reece, I—I can't accept this," said James quickly as he held up the pendant, a pendant that belonged to Maurice's dad. The pendant had their family crest embedded on it, a dove flying across the a full moon. Underneath, engraved into the cool silver are the words mortui vivos docent, meaning the dead teach the living.

      "I'm not taking no for an answer James. I want you to have it." James let out a sigh of defeat as the smile across his face grew wider.

      "You don't know how much this means to me." He clasped the necklace around his neck, before tightly wrapping his arms around Maurice. "Thank you, and Merry Christmas."

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authors note, chapters one through five sort of set up the story so please bear with me. i hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it, and overall just getting to know maurice and his family <3