Fic: Letters to Father Christmas (HP, PG)
Dec. 30th, 2009 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookishwenchI'm about to post another two installments in Descent, but I figured something a little lighter was in order, too.
Summary: Pretend that in the world of Harry Potter, Father Christmas is real. Here are some letters a few characters might send to him with their Christmas wishes.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made from this work of fanfic.
~.~
Dear Mr. Father Christmas, sir,
I is not to be asking for presents this year for Dobby as I is already having everything I am wanting. I am having a job that is paying, a new home, and clothes. I am having best Christmas ever!
However, I is to be asking for something for Blinky. She is not coping well with clothes, sir, and is drinking too much Butterbeer for own good. I is not knowing what is to be making her happier, but you is good at that kind of thing, so while she is not to be writing for herself, I is asking you to please not be forgetting her, sir.
Also, if there is some way you could arrange for Harry Potter to be made Minster of Magic, I think this would be good. I am knowing he is only 15, but anything is better than Mr. Fudge.
Yours with greatest respect,
Dobby, free elf
P.S. Please to be considering skipping Professor Uglybridge this year. She is most naughty.
~.~
Dear Sir:
I am writing you in protest over your horrifying use of slave labor in the manufacturing of your gifts for innocent children. How can you live with yourself? You are holding elves in bondage in the middle of a barren, icy wasteland, condemning them to work without ceasing, without pay, without sick leave, without benefits or pensions or the ability to choose their own destinies, all supposedly in the name of holiday joy and peace on earth! How dare you make a mockery of the Christmas season with your hypocritical usage of an unjust system, taking all the credit for the craftsmanship of your impoverished work force, languishing in isolation and oppression!
I want nothing from you at all.
Happy Christmas,
Hermione Jean Granger
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
I’m dreadfully embarrassed. Professor McGonagall took me aside while I was trying to raise funds to increase awareness of the plight of the elves at the North Pole. She has just explained to me that you in fact use free elves in your work, and that all the wizarding photographs of your workshop clearly show the elves all wear proper clothing, backing up this assertion. Apparently, I have utterly misjudged you. Please accept my sincerest apologies, and congratulations on your evolved attitude. If only other wizards were as fair minded.
With all due respect,
Hermione Jean Granger
P.S. If it’s not too much to ask, may I have a new quill, please?
~.~
Dearest darling Father Christmas,
I’m sure you know what a perfectly perfect boy I’ve been all year, you naughty, eavesdropping old love, you! For this season, my Christmas list is in direct proportion to my own heroic feats. Now, don’t strain yourself, my friend. Feel free to drop off the first sleigh load on Christmas Eve and subsequent ones for the rest of the year. We mustn’t disappoint the kiddies by having the whole sleigh filled with just my presents, now would we, deserving though I am.
At any rate, please find enclosed a copy of Madam Malkin’s winter catalogue. The items I require are circled in violet ink (I find it so much more attractive than red, something that perhaps you should consider with regard to that appalling red robe of yours, not that we don’t love you despite your hideous fashion blunders!). Pages 143 through 212 are unmarked as all the items on those pages would be appropriate gifts for moi!
In addition, I simply adore the twenty pound, gold wrapped, assorted bon-bon gift boxes from Honeyduke’s this year. Two or three of these would not go awry. I’m also partial to those beautifully carved vanity mirrors from Paladin’s Furniture Emporium, particularly the very large one with the twenty foot expanded mirror. I do believe it would enjoy looking at me all day, but then who wouldn’t!
As a thank you gift for you, I’ve left my entire collection of my works for you, neatly gift wrapped and autographed into the bargain! Now isn’t that better than a silly plate of cookies and lukewarm cocoa?
Oh, and do be careful of pranksters! Last year, some dreadful creature followed behind you to my abode and swapped all your gifts for a lump of dirty, disgusting coal! Ta, darling, and don’t forget to use my new line of hair care products on that drab beard of yours.
Fondly,
Gilderoy
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
I don’t often apologize, but I suppose it was slightly my fault that you tripped those booby traps last year. Still, it was rather stupid of you to try breaking into my home, even if it was via the chimney. There’s a good deal of evidence to suggest Death Eaters are entirely capable of breaking through a good many defense charms through that mode of entry, an idea they’ve copied off the Greek Kallikantzaros. In other words, when they can’t control the Floo Network, they try the actual flue. They don’t take off the day for Christmas, you know. They aren’t a very jolly lot on the whole. Regardless, I am sorry about the loss of your buttock. I do hope you’re not too lopsided in the sleigh.
It would be best if you left any gifts for me on the porch, wrapped in plain brown paper, and, obviously, able to pass the battery of tests I’ll put them through. I would rather enjoy a new boot, brown if you have it, and perhaps a nice book on some of the Muggle self-defense techniques like that caratay and tie quon dough. Death Eaters won’t be expecting that!
Thanks, and keep a watch on the skies. Dark forces are always watching, and I’ve always had a few doubts about that Blitzen of yours. He seems a bit dodgy. May want to have him checked for the Imperius.
Sincerely,
Alastor Moody
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
The Hogwarts library requires the following items be returned by you on Christmas Eve:
The Care and Feeding of Flying Reindeer by Svetlana Laplander
1001 Christmas Cookie Recipes by Heloise Gastronomer
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (part of our rare Muggle literature collection)
A Brief History of the Chudley Cannons by Galvin Jodhopper
Circumnavigating Muggle Satellites: The Wizard’s Guide to Avoid Hitting Those Shiny Things by Sean Carroger
Please note that the above books are severely overdue. In fact, Laplander’s tome has been out since your student days in 1237, and the total late fee is 7326 Galleons and 5 Knuts, exactly. The above books should never have been vouchsafed to your highly questionable keeping while you still had one outstanding in the late queue, showing your total lack of responsibility, but then what does one expect of a former Gryffindor but book theft and mutilation. Return them forthwith or this notice will explode, leaving a quite sticky residue of Bubotuber pus and color changing ink on your hands.
By the way, I could do with a new brolly, preferably black with a thestral head handle.
Irma Pince
Head Librarian, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
Happy holiday to ya! I hope that when you upped the barley-mix feed that I told you about, it fixed the problem with the reindeer’s hooves turning blue. If not, give me another floo visit and I’ll see what I can do. They’re nice lil fellas… a bit boring, mind you, but sweet tempered. I suppose you were right that replacing them with dragons might cause a few too many roof fires, but you have to admit, it woulda made the Christmas cards look a lot more dramatic. Still, wouldn’t want to hurt the reindeer’s feelings… especially Blitzen… rather cranky, that one.
The centaurs have asked me to give you their regards and tell ya they’ll be sure not to fire at ya this year. I don’t know how they got so turned around last year. I asked Bane and all he’d say was “The moon is in the third-quarter.” Yeah, right, that makes it all clear as day.
Fang would dearly love another one of those big bones you brung him last year. He chewed it clear into April. I never heard of a brawntosawros before, but apparently they make fine eating for a dog. Fawkes has been a little peaky lately, too. Could you see your way clear to giving him one of them phonograph records with a recording of other phoenixes on it? I could play it for him on the doohikey Prof. Lupin left, and maybe it would cheer Fawkes up for a change instead of the other way around. Oh, and me, I could really do with a new pair of mittens if you have the time.
Thanks, and I understand if there’s anything you can’t fill. I’ll leave out the rock cakes and cocoa for ya on the kitchen table; don’t forget, since you didn’t see them there last year. Wouldn’t want ya going hungry!
Rubeus Hagrid
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
A very merry Christmas to you, my old friend! It seems a shame we so rarely correspond anymore. I found your description of North Pole pixies in your last letter very amusing; you must have quite the time keeping them from hijacking your sleigh. I really will have to take you up on your kind offer of hospitality soon. Your dear wife’s delicious gingerbread trifle is not a thing one should miss. Unfortunately, responsibilities of late compel me to remain at Hogwarts over the holidays to ensure the safety of my students. Remember too that you are most welcome to visit at any time. I’m sure Hagrid could comfortably accommodate the reindeer again.
My own Christmas wish would undoubtedly be for peace on earth, but we both know that unfortunately your truly remarkable bag cannot carry that. In lieu of that wish, might I request a pair of socks, extra fluffy, and perhaps some variety of sweet? You know I possess a rather avaricious appetite for anything remotely sugary, one of my many vices. I look forward to seeing you again this year, and I wish you the best of luck, health, and weather on your trip.
Warm regards,
Albus
P.S. In regards to your question about Grindelwald, I do remember he had a fondness for Peppermint Imps, should you decided to visit him this year. I leave the decision entirely in your hands, of course.
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
Greetings. I hope you are doing well. I have done my utmost this year to obey my parents and remain true to my ancestors. I believe this is the definition of “being a good boy.” Consequently, presents should most certainly be in order.
I would like a new racing broom—I don’t care what kind it is just so long as it’s the best. Also, a new set of dress robes wouldn’t be out of order, nor would a new pair of self-fastening cufflinks, preferably platinum with diamond and emerald stones inset. Finally, I’d quite like some chocolate oranges and a few Chocolate Frogs as well (with the Paracelsus card, if it even actually exists).
You may want to keep an eye on your elves. I noticed last year that the Bludger in the Quidditch set you gave me had a small nick on it. Shoddy craftsmanship is never good for repeat customers, even if we don’t pay.
Respectfully,
Draco Malfoy
P.S. Crabbe and Goyle are having rather a lot of trouble with their letters, so I’m adding their wishes onto this one before their heads explode with the effort. Crabbe would like thirty pounds of Honeyduke’s dark chocolate and Goyle wants, and I quote, “stuff.” I’m not sure what that means, but it took him ten minutes to come up with it, so that’s what I’m writing down. I figure you know what he means well enough.
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
Well, I admit to being just a teensy bit naughty this year with my Won-Won, but really, can you blame a girl? He’s just so perfectly yummy delicious! Do you know what I mean? Oh, of course you do!
Anyway, here is what I would like for Christmas:
-three of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Extra Kissable Lipglosses in bubble gum, strawberry, and chocolate covered cherry flavors (actually, you’d better add a couple extra of that last one. Ron does love chocolate covered cherries!)
-dress robes in a nice pale pink color—not too pale, of course, but not too bright either. If you look at the Flutterby Bush in Greenhouse 5, the one planted right next to the north door, and try to match the flowers on that, you should do very well
-Madame Hestia’s magical eyelash lengthening mascara in dark blonde
-a pair of coral open-toe stiletto high heels for regular day wear and a matching set in satin with rhinestones for evening
-a new roommate who doesn’t stay up until three in the morning reading dull, boring books and shooting me dirty looks just because I’m prettier than she is (just to be clear, that’s Herminy or however she spells it, not Padma, who is a love and lets me borrow her color changing nail varnish. Now that I think about it, I could do with a bottle of that, too.)
Kiss kiss!
Lavender
P.S. Could you please give Ron some better robes? His ratty ones are rather embarrassing for me when we go out.
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
Hello again. I hope you are doing well this year. I think you probably are as you usually have a very positive look on things. I always worry a little bit about you being up at the North Pole, though. The pixies there are supposed to be most troublesome, and I’m sure your mistletoe is simply crawling with Nargles and Packytwacks from the cold. Do be sure you’re being careful to leave lots of radishes around. Father says it helps make them less inclined to give people a bad case of pinny shins (that prickly feeling people get in their legs sometimes? That’s the Packytwacks, to be sure, and you need your shins to help drive your sleigh, especially after that unfortunate incident as Mr. Moody’s last year.).
Do you have flowers at the North Pole at all? I think you should. They make people happier, but then you’re so jolly they might make you giggle too much, but then that could be the Nargles tickling you, too.
Oh, by the way, I’ll leave a nice Butterbeer out for you on Christmas Eve, with the cork still attached to help with any Nargles in your beard. I’m not sure what type of biscuits you like best, or if you’re perhaps allergic to anything, so I’ll leave out a few slices of roast beef instead. Most everyone likes that.
If you have any time on Christmas Eve, I think I’d like as a present some help finding a few of my lost belongings, especially the Plimpy-shaped brooch as it was Mum’s. It’s okay if you can’t, though.
Merry Christmas,
Luna
~.~
You red-coated old loon,
I swear to Merlin, if you track one more atom of chimney soot into this school, I’m going to bolt shut every hearth from Christmas Eve until Easter (and don’t even get me started on that pink abomination of nature that goes hippity-hopping across my clean floors with though gigantic, muddy rabbit feet of his, hiding eggs in unlikely places so that they rot and stink! I know you know that freak of nature, so you can warn him from me that if he invades this castle again in the spring, I’m going to set Fluffy on him!). Do you have any idea how long it takes to clean this place? And here you come, you great oaf with your over-inflated ego, tracking creosote and ashes and what all across the common room carpets and into the Great Hall and down the steps and who has to clean that mess? Me, that’s who! The very least you can do is wipe your big booted feet on the mats the elves have laid out for you in front of every single fireplace. Have some or consideration or I’ll leave Dungbombs on the roof next time! Remember, Mrs. Norris will be watching you (see, now how does feel, you perverted peeping Tom!)!
Argus Filch, caretaker
P.S. You had better leave me a replacement mop for the one I used up last year cleaning your mess! Preferably self-soaking and soaping, or I’m going straight to the Minister to ask for your flying license to be revoked for that bloody sleigh under the new brooms-only law! I’ve got connections, you know!
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
How’ve you been? I hope everything’s going good for you.
I could really do with a few things this year, but with our family, you know money’s always tight. If you like, you could just leave me a few Galleons in my stocking and I’ll go into Hogsmeade and pick out what I want. More than a few would be better still. Oh, and I would like some sweets, too, if you could manage it. I’m particularly partial to Chocolate Frogs, of course, but I could do with some Drooble’s, a few Fizzing Whizzbees, maybe some Ice Mice… yeah, basically whatever they’ve got, I’ll take.
See ya,
Ron
P.S. Any chance that you could get me some Bertie Bott’s with the vomit flavored ones chucked out? Lavender says they give me bad breath.
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
I am glad to see that my prediction of last year regarding your sudden death via a horrible rabid centaur attack turned out to be, I shall not say false, but obviously premature. You would still do well to prepare for the inevitable, as we all must. The tea leaves you left in your cup here last year after your snack of chocolate biscuits were most explicit on this fact. At any rate, I hope you had a pleasant year.
Of course, I already know what it is you will be giving me for Christmas this year, and I feel I should thank you already for the lovely new shawl in my favorite shade of misty grey, the highly useful bottle of crystal ball cleaner, and of course the very nice bottle of Ogden’s.
Be well, and remember that your time is short! Merry Christmas!
Sibyll Trelawney
Seer
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
I realize it is not customary for you to grant the Christmas wishes of those who do not currently possess the faculty of being human, but I implore upon you to make a small exception for me. I’m not actually asking for a present so much as a very small act of kindness. Could you please split the rest of my neck so that I can finally join the Headless Hunt? I’ve been waiting for several centuries, and really, I have been most patient, I think. I know this is normally the milieu of your somewhat less jolly brother in the black robes, the one who carries a sickle, but as he’s usually busy playing the Ghost of Christmas Future in theatrical productions at this time of year, perhaps you could see your way clear to do this little task for me? Thank you.
Most sincerely,
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington
~.~
Dear Father Christmas,
For pity’s sake, Transfigure me back! I am NOT Blitzen! My name is Alphonsus Montague, and the bloody Weasley twins turned me into a bloody reindeer after I nearly bloody died in that stupid bloody Vanishing Cabinet last year! I realize nobody noticed that I was gone for several days the last time, but this is ridiculous! I’ve been stuck as a reindeer for nearly thirteen months and no one has missed me? I think there must be memory charms involved here, too. Those bleeding idiots ought to be thrown in Azkaban!
It took me this long to find someone who could speak reindeer and English and could write you a letter explaining the situation. I will never, ever underestimate a garden gnome again. (Transcriptionist’s Note: As well he shouldn’t!) Can you just please make me a human again? I really hate oats.
By the way, Vixen is seriously considering kicking you in the head if you make her wear that stupid jingle bell harness again this year, and I can’t say I blame her. Also, if you try to go to Mad-Eye’s house again this year, then YOU’RE the mad one.
Undo it already!
Signed,
Alphonsus Montague, who is not a bloody reindeer and who does not appreciate that whip even if it is just for show
Merry belated Christmas!
Summary: Pretend that in the world of Harry Potter, Father Christmas is real. Here are some letters a few characters might send to him with their Christmas wishes.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made from this work of fanfic.
Dear Mr. Father Christmas, sir,
I is not to be asking for presents this year for Dobby as I is already having everything I am wanting. I am having a job that is paying, a new home, and clothes. I am having best Christmas ever!
However, I is to be asking for something for Blinky. She is not coping well with clothes, sir, and is drinking too much Butterbeer for own good. I is not knowing what is to be making her happier, but you is good at that kind of thing, so while she is not to be writing for herself, I is asking you to please not be forgetting her, sir.
Also, if there is some way you could arrange for Harry Potter to be made Minster of Magic, I think this would be good. I am knowing he is only 15, but anything is better than Mr. Fudge.
Yours with greatest respect,
Dobby, free elf
P.S. Please to be considering skipping Professor Uglybridge this year. She is most naughty.
Dear Sir:
I am writing you in protest over your horrifying use of slave labor in the manufacturing of your gifts for innocent children. How can you live with yourself? You are holding elves in bondage in the middle of a barren, icy wasteland, condemning them to work without ceasing, without pay, without sick leave, without benefits or pensions or the ability to choose their own destinies, all supposedly in the name of holiday joy and peace on earth! How dare you make a mockery of the Christmas season with your hypocritical usage of an unjust system, taking all the credit for the craftsmanship of your impoverished work force, languishing in isolation and oppression!
I want nothing from you at all.
Happy Christmas,
Hermione Jean Granger
Dear Father Christmas,
I’m dreadfully embarrassed. Professor McGonagall took me aside while I was trying to raise funds to increase awareness of the plight of the elves at the North Pole. She has just explained to me that you in fact use free elves in your work, and that all the wizarding photographs of your workshop clearly show the elves all wear proper clothing, backing up this assertion. Apparently, I have utterly misjudged you. Please accept my sincerest apologies, and congratulations on your evolved attitude. If only other wizards were as fair minded.
With all due respect,
Hermione Jean Granger
P.S. If it’s not too much to ask, may I have a new quill, please?
Dearest darling Father Christmas,
I’m sure you know what a perfectly perfect boy I’ve been all year, you naughty, eavesdropping old love, you! For this season, my Christmas list is in direct proportion to my own heroic feats. Now, don’t strain yourself, my friend. Feel free to drop off the first sleigh load on Christmas Eve and subsequent ones for the rest of the year. We mustn’t disappoint the kiddies by having the whole sleigh filled with just my presents, now would we, deserving though I am.
At any rate, please find enclosed a copy of Madam Malkin’s winter catalogue. The items I require are circled in violet ink (I find it so much more attractive than red, something that perhaps you should consider with regard to that appalling red robe of yours, not that we don’t love you despite your hideous fashion blunders!). Pages 143 through 212 are unmarked as all the items on those pages would be appropriate gifts for moi!
In addition, I simply adore the twenty pound, gold wrapped, assorted bon-bon gift boxes from Honeyduke’s this year. Two or three of these would not go awry. I’m also partial to those beautifully carved vanity mirrors from Paladin’s Furniture Emporium, particularly the very large one with the twenty foot expanded mirror. I do believe it would enjoy looking at me all day, but then who wouldn’t!
As a thank you gift for you, I’ve left my entire collection of my works for you, neatly gift wrapped and autographed into the bargain! Now isn’t that better than a silly plate of cookies and lukewarm cocoa?
Oh, and do be careful of pranksters! Last year, some dreadful creature followed behind you to my abode and swapped all your gifts for a lump of dirty, disgusting coal! Ta, darling, and don’t forget to use my new line of hair care products on that drab beard of yours.
Fondly,
Gilderoy
Dear Father Christmas,
I don’t often apologize, but I suppose it was slightly my fault that you tripped those booby traps last year. Still, it was rather stupid of you to try breaking into my home, even if it was via the chimney. There’s a good deal of evidence to suggest Death Eaters are entirely capable of breaking through a good many defense charms through that mode of entry, an idea they’ve copied off the Greek Kallikantzaros. In other words, when they can’t control the Floo Network, they try the actual flue. They don’t take off the day for Christmas, you know. They aren’t a very jolly lot on the whole. Regardless, I am sorry about the loss of your buttock. I do hope you’re not too lopsided in the sleigh.
It would be best if you left any gifts for me on the porch, wrapped in plain brown paper, and, obviously, able to pass the battery of tests I’ll put them through. I would rather enjoy a new boot, brown if you have it, and perhaps a nice book on some of the Muggle self-defense techniques like that caratay and tie quon dough. Death Eaters won’t be expecting that!
Thanks, and keep a watch on the skies. Dark forces are always watching, and I’ve always had a few doubts about that Blitzen of yours. He seems a bit dodgy. May want to have him checked for the Imperius.
Sincerely,
Alastor Moody
Dear Father Christmas,
The Hogwarts library requires the following items be returned by you on Christmas Eve:
The Care and Feeding of Flying Reindeer by Svetlana Laplander
1001 Christmas Cookie Recipes by Heloise Gastronomer
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (part of our rare Muggle literature collection)
A Brief History of the Chudley Cannons by Galvin Jodhopper
Circumnavigating Muggle Satellites: The Wizard’s Guide to Avoid Hitting Those Shiny Things by Sean Carroger
Please note that the above books are severely overdue. In fact, Laplander’s tome has been out since your student days in 1237, and the total late fee is 7326 Galleons and 5 Knuts, exactly. The above books should never have been vouchsafed to your highly questionable keeping while you still had one outstanding in the late queue, showing your total lack of responsibility, but then what does one expect of a former Gryffindor but book theft and mutilation. Return them forthwith or this notice will explode, leaving a quite sticky residue of Bubotuber pus and color changing ink on your hands.
By the way, I could do with a new brolly, preferably black with a thestral head handle.
Irma Pince
Head Librarian, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dear Father Christmas,
Happy holiday to ya! I hope that when you upped the barley-mix feed that I told you about, it fixed the problem with the reindeer’s hooves turning blue. If not, give me another floo visit and I’ll see what I can do. They’re nice lil fellas… a bit boring, mind you, but sweet tempered. I suppose you were right that replacing them with dragons might cause a few too many roof fires, but you have to admit, it woulda made the Christmas cards look a lot more dramatic. Still, wouldn’t want to hurt the reindeer’s feelings… especially Blitzen… rather cranky, that one.
The centaurs have asked me to give you their regards and tell ya they’ll be sure not to fire at ya this year. I don’t know how they got so turned around last year. I asked Bane and all he’d say was “The moon is in the third-quarter.” Yeah, right, that makes it all clear as day.
Fang would dearly love another one of those big bones you brung him last year. He chewed it clear into April. I never heard of a brawntosawros before, but apparently they make fine eating for a dog. Fawkes has been a little peaky lately, too. Could you see your way clear to giving him one of them phonograph records with a recording of other phoenixes on it? I could play it for him on the doohikey Prof. Lupin left, and maybe it would cheer Fawkes up for a change instead of the other way around. Oh, and me, I could really do with a new pair of mittens if you have the time.
Thanks, and I understand if there’s anything you can’t fill. I’ll leave out the rock cakes and cocoa for ya on the kitchen table; don’t forget, since you didn’t see them there last year. Wouldn’t want ya going hungry!
Rubeus Hagrid
Dear Father Christmas,
A very merry Christmas to you, my old friend! It seems a shame we so rarely correspond anymore. I found your description of North Pole pixies in your last letter very amusing; you must have quite the time keeping them from hijacking your sleigh. I really will have to take you up on your kind offer of hospitality soon. Your dear wife’s delicious gingerbread trifle is not a thing one should miss. Unfortunately, responsibilities of late compel me to remain at Hogwarts over the holidays to ensure the safety of my students. Remember too that you are most welcome to visit at any time. I’m sure Hagrid could comfortably accommodate the reindeer again.
My own Christmas wish would undoubtedly be for peace on earth, but we both know that unfortunately your truly remarkable bag cannot carry that. In lieu of that wish, might I request a pair of socks, extra fluffy, and perhaps some variety of sweet? You know I possess a rather avaricious appetite for anything remotely sugary, one of my many vices. I look forward to seeing you again this year, and I wish you the best of luck, health, and weather on your trip.
Warm regards,
Albus
P.S. In regards to your question about Grindelwald, I do remember he had a fondness for Peppermint Imps, should you decided to visit him this year. I leave the decision entirely in your hands, of course.
Dear Father Christmas,
Greetings. I hope you are doing well. I have done my utmost this year to obey my parents and remain true to my ancestors. I believe this is the definition of “being a good boy.” Consequently, presents should most certainly be in order.
I would like a new racing broom—I don’t care what kind it is just so long as it’s the best. Also, a new set of dress robes wouldn’t be out of order, nor would a new pair of self-fastening cufflinks, preferably platinum with diamond and emerald stones inset. Finally, I’d quite like some chocolate oranges and a few Chocolate Frogs as well (with the Paracelsus card, if it even actually exists).
You may want to keep an eye on your elves. I noticed last year that the Bludger in the Quidditch set you gave me had a small nick on it. Shoddy craftsmanship is never good for repeat customers, even if we don’t pay.
Respectfully,
Draco Malfoy
P.S. Crabbe and Goyle are having rather a lot of trouble with their letters, so I’m adding their wishes onto this one before their heads explode with the effort. Crabbe would like thirty pounds of Honeyduke’s dark chocolate and Goyle wants, and I quote, “stuff.” I’m not sure what that means, but it took him ten minutes to come up with it, so that’s what I’m writing down. I figure you know what he means well enough.
Dear Father Christmas,
Well, I admit to being just a teensy bit naughty this year with my Won-Won, but really, can you blame a girl? He’s just so perfectly yummy delicious! Do you know what I mean? Oh, of course you do!
Anyway, here is what I would like for Christmas:
-three of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Extra Kissable Lipglosses in bubble gum, strawberry, and chocolate covered cherry flavors (actually, you’d better add a couple extra of that last one. Ron does love chocolate covered cherries!)
-dress robes in a nice pale pink color—not too pale, of course, but not too bright either. If you look at the Flutterby Bush in Greenhouse 5, the one planted right next to the north door, and try to match the flowers on that, you should do very well
-Madame Hestia’s magical eyelash lengthening mascara in dark blonde
-a pair of coral open-toe stiletto high heels for regular day wear and a matching set in satin with rhinestones for evening
-a new roommate who doesn’t stay up until three in the morning reading dull, boring books and shooting me dirty looks just because I’m prettier than she is (just to be clear, that’s Herminy or however she spells it, not Padma, who is a love and lets me borrow her color changing nail varnish. Now that I think about it, I could do with a bottle of that, too.)
Kiss kiss!
Lavender
P.S. Could you please give Ron some better robes? His ratty ones are rather embarrassing for me when we go out.
Dear Father Christmas,
Hello again. I hope you are doing well this year. I think you probably are as you usually have a very positive look on things. I always worry a little bit about you being up at the North Pole, though. The pixies there are supposed to be most troublesome, and I’m sure your mistletoe is simply crawling with Nargles and Packytwacks from the cold. Do be sure you’re being careful to leave lots of radishes around. Father says it helps make them less inclined to give people a bad case of pinny shins (that prickly feeling people get in their legs sometimes? That’s the Packytwacks, to be sure, and you need your shins to help drive your sleigh, especially after that unfortunate incident as Mr. Moody’s last year.).
Do you have flowers at the North Pole at all? I think you should. They make people happier, but then you’re so jolly they might make you giggle too much, but then that could be the Nargles tickling you, too.
Oh, by the way, I’ll leave a nice Butterbeer out for you on Christmas Eve, with the cork still attached to help with any Nargles in your beard. I’m not sure what type of biscuits you like best, or if you’re perhaps allergic to anything, so I’ll leave out a few slices of roast beef instead. Most everyone likes that.
If you have any time on Christmas Eve, I think I’d like as a present some help finding a few of my lost belongings, especially the Plimpy-shaped brooch as it was Mum’s. It’s okay if you can’t, though.
Merry Christmas,
Luna
You red-coated old loon,
I swear to Merlin, if you track one more atom of chimney soot into this school, I’m going to bolt shut every hearth from Christmas Eve until Easter (and don’t even get me started on that pink abomination of nature that goes hippity-hopping across my clean floors with though gigantic, muddy rabbit feet of his, hiding eggs in unlikely places so that they rot and stink! I know you know that freak of nature, so you can warn him from me that if he invades this castle again in the spring, I’m going to set Fluffy on him!). Do you have any idea how long it takes to clean this place? And here you come, you great oaf with your over-inflated ego, tracking creosote and ashes and what all across the common room carpets and into the Great Hall and down the steps and who has to clean that mess? Me, that’s who! The very least you can do is wipe your big booted feet on the mats the elves have laid out for you in front of every single fireplace. Have some or consideration or I’ll leave Dungbombs on the roof next time! Remember, Mrs. Norris will be watching you (see, now how does feel, you perverted peeping Tom!)!
Argus Filch, caretaker
P.S. You had better leave me a replacement mop for the one I used up last year cleaning your mess! Preferably self-soaking and soaping, or I’m going straight to the Minister to ask for your flying license to be revoked for that bloody sleigh under the new brooms-only law! I’ve got connections, you know!
Dear Father Christmas,
How’ve you been? I hope everything’s going good for you.
I could really do with a few things this year, but with our family, you know money’s always tight. If you like, you could just leave me a few Galleons in my stocking and I’ll go into Hogsmeade and pick out what I want. More than a few would be better still. Oh, and I would like some sweets, too, if you could manage it. I’m particularly partial to Chocolate Frogs, of course, but I could do with some Drooble’s, a few Fizzing Whizzbees, maybe some Ice Mice… yeah, basically whatever they’ve got, I’ll take.
See ya,
Ron
P.S. Any chance that you could get me some Bertie Bott’s with the vomit flavored ones chucked out? Lavender says they give me bad breath.
Dear Father Christmas,
I am glad to see that my prediction of last year regarding your sudden death via a horrible rabid centaur attack turned out to be, I shall not say false, but obviously premature. You would still do well to prepare for the inevitable, as we all must. The tea leaves you left in your cup here last year after your snack of chocolate biscuits were most explicit on this fact. At any rate, I hope you had a pleasant year.
Of course, I already know what it is you will be giving me for Christmas this year, and I feel I should thank you already for the lovely new shawl in my favorite shade of misty grey, the highly useful bottle of crystal ball cleaner, and of course the very nice bottle of Ogden’s.
Be well, and remember that your time is short! Merry Christmas!
Sibyll Trelawney
Seer
Dear Father Christmas,
I realize it is not customary for you to grant the Christmas wishes of those who do not currently possess the faculty of being human, but I implore upon you to make a small exception for me. I’m not actually asking for a present so much as a very small act of kindness. Could you please split the rest of my neck so that I can finally join the Headless Hunt? I’ve been waiting for several centuries, and really, I have been most patient, I think. I know this is normally the milieu of your somewhat less jolly brother in the black robes, the one who carries a sickle, but as he’s usually busy playing the Ghost of Christmas Future in theatrical productions at this time of year, perhaps you could see your way clear to do this little task for me? Thank you.
Most sincerely,
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington
Dear Father Christmas,
For pity’s sake, Transfigure me back! I am NOT Blitzen! My name is Alphonsus Montague, and the bloody Weasley twins turned me into a bloody reindeer after I nearly bloody died in that stupid bloody Vanishing Cabinet last year! I realize nobody noticed that I was gone for several days the last time, but this is ridiculous! I’ve been stuck as a reindeer for nearly thirteen months and no one has missed me? I think there must be memory charms involved here, too. Those bleeding idiots ought to be thrown in Azkaban!
It took me this long to find someone who could speak reindeer and English and could write you a letter explaining the situation. I will never, ever underestimate a garden gnome again. (Transcriptionist’s Note: As well he shouldn’t!) Can you just please make me a human again? I really hate oats.
By the way, Vixen is seriously considering kicking you in the head if you make her wear that stupid jingle bell harness again this year, and I can’t say I blame her. Also, if you try to go to Mad-Eye’s house again this year, then YOU’RE the mad one.
Undo it already!
Signed,
Alphonsus Montague, who is not a bloody reindeer and who does not appreciate that whip even if it is just for show
Merry belated Christmas!
