Summary: Arabella Figg decides to forward five year old Harry's Christmas letter. One shot. AU

Disclaimer: Not our's. We just play with them. Reviews are welcomed, flames aren't.

A/N: This came to me in a dream. Normally, I don't do one shorts for some reason all my short stories tend to be novellas in disguise. So I asked Frau to helped me iron out the kinks. I know Christmas is long over with but what the hey! Hope you enjoy. –GF and The Frau


T'was three weeks before Christmas, Arabella Figg watched the snow fall outside her home. Behind her, sitting at the kitchen table was a young lad of about five years of age. He was busy trying to write a letter to St. Nicholas.

He had asked her a couple of times how to spell a word that was beyond his scope of knowledge. It was breaking her heart as she listen to him asking for things that could never be. What he was asking for was something every child should have, love.

'Damn that Albus anyways. The child needs to be with people that love and care for him, instead of those damn Muggles,' she thought for the umpteenth time. She had sent report after report to Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and the child's supposedly magical guardian. However, he dismissed her claims of neglect each and every time.

"I'm done, Mrs. Figg. Can you send it now?" the boy asked, holding up the letter.

"Well, let's see it then," she said with a smile. She had been baby-sitting young Harry while his relatives were out doing shopping and taking in the Christmas celebrations. Adjusting her specs, she started to read,

"Dear St. Nicholas, i am Harry and i am 6. i know i am not allowed to ask for any thing for Christmas. my Ant and Uncle says I havin bin good. i have been good honest. i dont want much. i would like a bike but I know i wont get it. What i really want is new parents. Mine died in a car accident my Ant says. Thats why i got a scar. i want someone to love me and take care of me and not leve me alone so they can do stuff. So I dont have to do choresall the time n they will be proud of me when i do good in spelling. Or hug me wehn I get picked on for being a freak.

Well thats all. I guess you arent coming again this year as well, huh?

Harry Potter"

Arabella dabbed her eyes with her napkin. She smiled at the misspelt words and poor grammar but the letter was from the heart.

"Is it good?" Harry asked, nervously. "You'll send it for me? You won't tell Aunt 'Tunia and Uncle Ver'on?"

"Of course, Harry. I will send it. It'll be our secret," she promised, giving him a hug.

Later when Harry returned to his relatives, Arabella stood thinking about Harry's letter. Anything that the boy got from his so called relatives was broken and used while they spoiled their own son outrageously. So giving him his wish would only result in having it taken away from him and given to Dudley to be destroyed.

'Albus, how could you allow this child to grow up with these people?' she asked herself yet again. She knew that they didn't physically abuse Harry, but they were neglecting him, mentally and emotionally and despite evidence to the contrary, Albus continued to brush off her concerns. Well, maybe this Christmas will be different! She marched to her writing desk, pulled out a special envelope and quickly addressed it.


T'was the day before Christmas and all of the houses on Privat Drive had an eerily pristine look in the new fallen snow. Arabella answered a knock on her door. She opened it to reveal an elderly gentleman.

"Arabella Figg?"

"Yes, how may I help you?"

The gentleman held up a crumpled letter written in a child's scrawl.

Arabella smiled. "Come in. Come in. Have a cuppa and I'll give you the full story."

The gentleman nodded and stepped inside, dusting the snow off his cloak. An hour later, he made his way silently and under several cloaking spells, he entered the home at Number 4.

Young Harry was busy dusting the sitting room, humming softly to himself. The place was immaculate and decorated to the nines for the holiday. The boy eyed the elaborate Christmas tree with awe and a touch of sadness. Under the tree was a small mountain of wrapped presents.

"Boy! We are leaving soon. Get away from that tree. You know the rule, you aren't to touch it or the presents," came a shrill woman's voice, causing the boy to nervously shrink back. "There's nothing there for you! Freaks don't get presents!"

"Yes Aunt 'Tunia." the boy sighed in a resigned voice. He knew that there wasn't anything under the tree for him, but he could still hope. Under his breath, Harry muttered, "Anyways, St. Nicholas is coming tonight. Maybe, just maybe, this year I'll get a present. I hope he got my letter."

"You will find a plate of food in your cupboard," came the woman's shrill voice again. "Don't waste it. It'll have to do for tomorrow as well. We shall be back after Midnight Mass. You had better be asleep in your cupboard when we get home."

The gentleman watched the rest of the day as the young boy finished his chores and with a sad sigh opened a small door under the stairs. In astonishment, he peeked into the cupboard before the door closed. In it was a small mattress on the floor and a small plate of food. Leftovers, mostly and not very nutritious.

"I hope St. Nicholas got my letter. Mrs. Figg promised she would mail it," came a small tired voice through the cupboard door.


T'was the Night Before Christmas and Arabella had just returned from Midnight Mass when she heard someone at her door. The gentleman from earlier was there. He had a sleeping bundle in his arms. "You were right to send for me, madam. I wouldn't have believed Albus had made such a wrong decision unless I had seen it with my own eyes. There is no love and caring in that family. They had left him home alone while they went to Mass with only a small plate of food to last for two days."

"So you are going to grant his Christmas wish, Nicholas?"

"Most assuredly, Madam. Perenelle is always after me to adopt. She's always wanted a little one to love and spoil. Harry Potter will do just fine."

"And the relatives?"

"Oh," he said with a mischievous grin. "St. Nicholas was waiting for them when they got home. He let them know what he thought of their perfect little world and the true meaning of kindness. Rest assured madam, they got the message."

"And Albus? When he realizes that Harry isn't there any longer?"

"Would you mind if I place a memory charm on you?"

"Not at all. I think I would like to go and visit my sister until the new year."

"Excellent, my dear woman."


T'was Christmas Morning and Harry slowly came awake. He was comfortable and warm and the bed was so soft! A feeling he hadn't known before. Opening his eyes, he found he was in a room filled with books and toys. Sitting on the bed next to him, was an older woman he had never seen before. She had the most beautiful blue eyes that Harry had ever seen.

"Hello, Harry," she said, with a smile. "It's Christmas Day and you have lots of presents to open."

"Wh. . . who are you?"

"Why I'm Perenelle Flamel. You had a Christmas wish for new parents?"

"Ye. . .Yes. . . ?" Harry sat up. He discovered he was clean and wearing new pajamas that actually fit. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around. "What about . . .?"

"Your relatives?" she smiled as he nodded. "Oh my husband Nicholas spoke to them and they agreed to let us have you. You don't mind?"

Harry's mouth fell open. He blinked and blinked again. "You mean St. Nicholas . . .?"

Perenelle laughed. It was a wonderful laugh. "Oh no child. Your Mrs. Figg sent Nicholas your letter and we agreed that it was too important to bother the dear saint. Oh no, my husband is Nicholas Flamel, and we want to adopt you. Do you mind?"

Harry threw himself into her arms. She hugged him close as his "YES!" filled the room.

Standing in the doorway, the famous alchemist watched as his wife bonded with the little boy. True, he may not be the patron saint of children but thanks to one old squib, he'd managed to make one child's Christmas wish come true.


Ok, ok, so it was a tad cliche and predictable, but we just couldn't resist. Until next time. --GF and Frau