December 23rd crept up on the Slytherin Manor on catlike tread. In the exposed regions of the Orkneys, darkness had fallen by early afternoon and while little snow had fallen, the enchantments surrounding the manor had ensured plentiful snowfall. Converting moisture into different took minimal energy, when the owner of said mansion was one of the top three most powerful wizards in Western Europe.

Probably Eastern Europe as well, but he had to grow a little before striving for such a title. They got touchy about such things.

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Lord Slytherin, and most importantly, Master of Pudding stood in the kitchen, waiting. Plato, his house elf, stood with him. Both wore matching looks of stern disapproval, scowl for scowl, forehead line to forehead line.

"Luna," Harry kept his voice gentle. One could not help but like Luna – unless they were mentally pixelated, a common enough condition it seemed. "The ground rules remain."

"I know Harry. I gave you my word as a Lovegood, Future Potter and sex toy of Lord Slytherin, witch and Bearer of the Pudding."

"There bes no such thing," Plato muttered under his breath. The intimidating look he was trying to pull off would've been more effective had he stood taller than Harry's knee.

"I never asked you to swear that third or last one," Harry had experience dealing with the witch. He refused to be distracted. "Now repeat the rules back to me."

Luna's eyes dimmed. "No setting traps for Santa. No tricking Santa into giving me all his toys. No asking Hermione, Daphne, Alex or Ginny to do the aforementioned things for me."

"Go on." Harry's voice could've been used as a model for a runway, strong and level as it was. "Finish it."

An infrequent huff came from the blonde witch. "No getting the elves to do the work for me, and no asking my parents or any other witch, wizard, muggle, deity, near deity or non-human being for Santa Tricking help."

Harry's eyes closed as he covered the variables. Luna's intellect bordered on the tenth level past genius; loopholes were a trick she'd learned in the course of transitioning to solid foods – more of which Harry had wished he had not known. But he was Lord Slytherin, Time Traveler and capable of going plot-for-plot against such mental giants as Dumbledore, Voldemort, Fate and Death itself.

He still wondered if he'd missed anything. But there were no more reasonable precautions he could take.

"All right." He finally decided. "You can have the pudding now."

"Yay!" Luna snatched the punch-bowl sized dish, wandless summoning charm bringing a spoon from inside a drawer to her hand. The first spoonful vanished as if by magic. Knowing her, it might well have been. "Oh, and Harry?"

He stiffened. 'I missed something. I knew it!'

"Would it be all right if I sit on the roof and watch Santa?"

Plato bristled. "No. She bes planning something."

Harry thought with care. "What for?"

Shrugging, Luna swallowed another cupful. "I've caught Santa twice in two years. It'd be nice to just watch him fly around for a change."

Harry blinked. Outside the wind gusted in ever-growing force. Then he flipped a mental coin – it landed tails. "Sure. Just remember your promise, Luna."

She grinned back, the picture of cherubic innocence. "Of course, Harry. I always remember my promises."

[break]

Near ten that evening, twenty-two hundred hours for the wizards who thought themselves above such things as normal timekeeping, Harry sat next to the fireplace. At either side sat a happy witch, leaning against his shoulders, reading their own books.

Hermione turned a page. "I'm surprised Luna didn't put up a stronger fight. She's bound and determined to catch Santa after all."

"Hmpf." Alex, the violet-eyed witch determined to prove her independence, snuggled against Harry's back. "She's growing up. It had to happen sometime."

"I don't know …" Ginny murmured from the wizard's other shoulder. Rather than lean against his shoulder or back like Hermione and Alex were doing, she'd chosen to lounge on the cushions, feet pressed against Harry's side. "She's scary enough as it is now. Can you imagine what she'd be like thinking as an adult? All the time?"

Twin shudders ran through the other two witches at the same moment. Harry paused his reading to gaze at the fireplace. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Now you did it," Alex huffed.

Hermione looked up. "What?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "She said the words mature and Luna. You know, as in grown up … everywhere?"

It took a moment but Hermione blushed. "Oh."

Harry came back to himself. "Hey, can't blame a bloke, can you?"

Matching groans ricocheted around him. But before he could note the surreptitious looks being exchanged, a new visitor appeared.

"Master. Scary Mistress is still sitting. She asked Plato for a blanket." The small elf stood in place, the very embodiment of grim determination.

"Go ahead," Harry said. "She might come down soon."

Plato gave a disbelieving look, and popped away. Suspicion floated in his wake like a fog, slow to dissipate.

Harry picked up his wand, running another scan. "Wards aren't picking up any new magic. Luna hasn't summoned anything, she even left her wand down here."

A trio of nods wobbled around him in slow agreement. Pensive expressions turned back to their books as the mantelpiece clock continued its solitary purpose in life, ticking past another minute. Its rhythmic beat clicked by, as the fire crackled low. Steady, uncompromising, indomitable. As so often was the case, the sound of reliable motion lulled the group into a drowsy wakefulness, drifting ever further within the penumbra between dozing and full slumber.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.'

Poetry ran through Harry's mind, something that sounded as if it came from Hermione's collection, but read in Daphne's dulcet tones. He couldn't quite place the origin, but felt as if something important were occurring.

'The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.'

He gave a small approving nod. Hanging socks by the fireplace had become a modern tradition among wizards as well as muggles. Who didn't like receiving free things? Besides, it was an open-ended contract: if one were good, they'd get stuff.

'The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.'

Harry frowned. What was a 'sugar plum' and how did it dance? That part wouldn't sit so well with wizards – too many creatures dwelled in hope of occupying a young wizard's brain. But it was just a poem. What was the harm in that?

'And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap. Really Harry, you could sleep through anything once you get going, can't you?'

That much was true. But who was doing the reading, and who was doing the listening? He stirred, instincts rising to the fore. Something about the next line was bothering him – what was it? Christmas Eve had attained calamitous proportions in recent years, yet remained joyful.

'When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.'

"Harry! Harry!" Daphne's voice continued, but was far less peaceful. It definitely qualified as a 'clatter', since it was a bare treble in an entire choir of sound. Were proper classification brought to bear, the mass of audio assault would've been compared unfavorably to the Mormon Tabernacle Rugby Team singing their hearts out against the International Cacophony Protestors Alliance, the organization dedicated to bringing hundreds of followers against whatever cause caught their attention.

Coming to full wakefulness Harry sprang to his feet. There were no forwards covering the locks – rugby positions to the uneducated. But there were three loud thumps echoing behind and beside him, as well as a sudden lack of warmth to which he'd grown accustomed.

Unladylike outbursts accompanied that sudden lack. In an impressive display of self-control, Harry found himself surrounded by a trio of irritated witches, wands at the ready facing around his position.

"Where is Luna?" Daphne Greengrass stood before him, unfazed by the view. Unlike the others, she was garbed in an evening gown flattering yet tasteful. "Remember? We were going to keep an eye on her?"

Harry listened again. A rough noise still buffeted his ears from the rooftop. Low bellows, matched in depth by the bellows of … something … reverberated down the chimney. The chimney?

"Oh Merlin …." Harry twisted in place, apparating to the rooftop.

The rooftop, once a scene of eiderdown smooth snow was now the site of eight terrified reindeer, an overturned sleigh, and a tubby man in red doing his best to slap away the playful ministrations of a thirty foot monster made of teeth and iron-hard scales. Somehow the harness had become wrapped around one of the chimneys, and the man's foot. As the reindeer fought to escape the massive predator, they dragged the overturned sleigh closer to the edge – including healthy, flailing, form.

"Luna!" Harry shouted to no avail. Cursing he tapped his throat and tried again. "Luna!"

The shockwave of overpowered sonorous blew what was left of the snow off the roof, driving the reindeer into greater frenzy. One fell off the roof, hopping and skipping midair, tangling the harness even further.

"No. Pudding." Harry put every ounce of will into the statement.

Forty tons of meat-eating carnivore wheeled around to face Harry. Steak-knife long teeth snapped shut inches from his face, lungs large enough to house four adult wizards growled displeasure.

Harry folded his arms. "Don't make me do it, Luna. You know we both won't like it."

Oversized eyeballs blinked, then shrank. The monstrous form bent in a fashion not meant for human observation. Luna's diminutive form appeared, petite and barefoot. She frowned at him. "It's not nice to threaten pudding, Harry Potter."

He gave a wordless gesture towards the wayward reindeer, tangled patron of children, and careened conveyance. "You gave your word, Luna."

"Of course I did," she appeared miffed, planting two tiny fists akimbo. "I promised that I wouldn't trick Santa."

"Then what do you call this?" Harry felt incredulity rising.

Luna shrugged. "I just wanted to show him my animagus form. He did give me that book last year."

The man in a big red suit made it to his feet. He slapped large mittens together, emitting a pulse of what felt like the deepest magic Harry had ever felt. "Miss Lovegood," he rumbled. "I'd say this is a surprise, but it really isn't."

"You … you mean …." Luna's lower lip trembled. "You don't … like it?"

The big man melted. "Like it? I love it! But … not in front of the reindeer, all right? They had a bad experience some years ago. I have to change teams for the Grand Cayman Islands."

"Oh the poor deer!" Luna teared up. She ran towards the confused animals, arms outstretched.

A new popping sound announced the presence of one house elf, plus a number of worried witches. Plato scanned the surroundings, then drooped. "Scorekee – Sire. I have failed."

The one sometimes known as Jolly Old Elf bent down, patting the tiny one's head. "Nonsense. We'll speak later, but you did well."

Harry ignored the exchange. Knowledge was power, but there were secrets that even the most ambitious of mortals eschewed. Life worked out better, and longer that way. Harry had a vested interested in a longer lifespan, there were so many more things that could be done in them.

"Sir." Daphne curtseyed in the proper way. "Welcome. I apologize for any untoward actions –"

A well-placed elbow cut off her sentence before it could be finished. Alex hissed something into her ear about fae and proper methods of expressing gratitude. Hermione ignored both of them to study the white-bearded man with curious eyes.

"Have you gotten bigger?" she cocked her head to one side. "I remember you were a little different last year."

This time a kind smile graced the man's face. "No child, but you have gotten older. You see me differently than you once did." He leaned in close. "It's a key to much of magic. Remember that."

Harry glanced over to Ginny, whom was now investigating the confused animals. They shied away, but seemed to calm as her efforts began untangling the confused pile. He had to admire her courage; reindeer were not docile, fuzzy creatures. Each weighed over two hundred pounds, boasting antlers designed to stab, and hooves to bring all their considerable weight onto a small point.

Plato snapped his fingers, righting the overturned sleigh, setting it back on its skis. "Is there being anything I's can do?"

Santa sighed. "You're good. Do not worry, Xystanopheli – Plato."

Ignoring that took more effort, but Harry managed. Fae loved to tease mortals with scraps of knowledge, finding entertainment when wrong conclusions were made and accidents occurred. Even the most generous fell into the habit, it seemed.

"Come on everyone, let's get back inside." Harry made a circling motion with both hands. "Let Santa do his job, and we need to get at least some sleep tonight. Big day tomorrow."

Reluctant, the girls began to move away, towards the roof-access door Daphne had insisted be installed when discovering her own animagus form.

Harry paused, the last one to leave. "Merry Christmas, Santa."

A wide grin made its presence known, even behind the mass of beard on the large man's face. "Until next year, young Harry. Until next year."

The almost inaudible sound of sliding cloth reached both their ears at the same time. Harry spun to see Santa make a leap, as the sleigh lifted off the ground. The bag of toys toppled back into the sleigh, rocking the vehicle to one side, making the red-suited elf miss the top lip, but able to grab the runner with one hand.

Luna's face poked over the top of the driver's edge. She waved at Harry. "You never said when! Merry Christmas to all! To the Mall! Good night!"

All he could do was stand there as the sleigh ascended beyond the hills, over the ocean. It silhouetted against the moon, reindeer pulling a sleigh with a large man dangling beneath. The sound of jingling sleigh bells rang ever more distant, shrieking giggles fading with it. After a few moments more the entire sight became serene once more, rolling waves gliding along the ocean's surface and a gentle snow falling to cover the roof once more.

Harry looked down. Plato stood there, staring after the long-gone sleigh.

"So." Harry opened the door into the house. "Do you think next year will be normal?"

The small being gave a slow shake to its head. "Plato doesn't think so. Plato thinks this might be normal."