When Peter joined him and put a Christmas present down on the table between them, James laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair with a clap. "Wormtail, it's August. What is this? You gave me a Christmas present, didn't you?" He shook the box a bit, but dropped it back onto the table top when his chips arrived. "Ah, potato, grease, and salt. Yes, please." He bit in to one and passed the basket across the table. "Help yourself."
He sat back and nibbled on his chip, then started to laugh at the wrapping paper again. "No, really, what is this for?"