Title: Jingling Moonbeams

Chapter – All Hail Overlord Luna!: One-shot

Ship: N/A

Key: "Speech", 'Thoughts', "Speech laden with magic"


[Author's Note:] This story was originally planned as an excerpt from my "Darkened Paths" universe and will still remain, but I felt it would do well to be released in time for Christmas. So that it is clear, this IS a past event from that universe, but for the other plot, it would be slightly different. I will write a fic of pure excerpts from that universe once I have a few written for your amusement. And Luna's final comment is in tribute to Rorschach's Blot, the first one who I read use her comment. At least, I think it is. o.O'

Summary: Luna enjoys receiving her Christmas gifts each year, but if the gifts she always got on Christmas day were always so great, then what kinds of things could she get at Santa HQ? The ones she was sure her parents didn't disagree for, first?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other crossover I may intentionally or unintentionally create.

Recommended Story of the Chapter: "Harry Potter and the Gold Star of Christmas" by Sable Fennec (H/Hr/L, Christmas one-shot.)

CHALLENGE NOTE/COMMENT: After the "last omake", there is a challenge I'd like to get your thoughts on. I'm thinking about doing it for a darker, though light-oriented, Harry/Hermione/Luna story and want your thoughts. Anyone else can take it up, as well. Feel free to comment here or on my Forum from my profile.


Nicholas pressed his red-clad body against the top of the roof, poking his head over and shifting his eyes back and forth quickly, his eyes coming in ragged breaths as he looked for any indications of traps or wires. Seeing nothing, but not putting as much faith into his eyes after the trip wires from the year previous, he crawled along his rotund belly and sat quickly with his back against the chimney, looking about wildly for any indications of the traps that had nearly captured him a year ago that day.

It was this very house that made him decide to bring an elf look-out two years ago. That little bit of protection was currently huddled at the side of Nicholas' sleigh, shivering violently. And it had nothing to do with the cold. Indeed, the little elf remembered the volley of poisoned sleeping darts that had impaled him in the bum when he tackled the white-haired man in order to protect him one year ago.

"Santa, are you okay?" The high-pitched voice called out in a loud whisper from the safety of the sleigh.

"So far, George, yes. There seem to be far fewer traps this time around," Santa whispered. Taking a deep breath, the large man gathered himself and peered carefully down the chimney, expecting a rope trap like three years ago or something to reach out and grab him. Seeing nothing obvious, but able to see the light from the fairies decorating the tree he knew to be inside, he looked back at his elf companion and spoke solemnly. "If I don't make it out in five minutes, come in after me."

The little elf looked at Santa as if he were insane. Did that quote not go the other way around? "Right boss," he said, not really meaning it.

Santa gingerly settled himself on the top of the chimney and magicked himself into a cloud of sparkling mist and down into the house. Therefore, he was unable to witness the blonde head that popped up over the side of the roof, behind the sleigh and out of sight of the little elf. Gray eyes sparkled merrily as she saw her prey shift his weight nervously.

The elf was completely unaware as the little girl snuck up behind him and knocked him out cold.


Luna Lovegood stuck her tongue out and bent it up in concentration as she put her spiked cookies out for Santa, humming a song she had recently heard about putting limes into coconuts. The cookies were made with a confusion potion, so as not to let her Arch Nemesis have his full wits about him. For the past four years, ever since she was two, she had attempted to capture the elusive fairy, said to be the most powerful of them all, aside from their queen, Lilith. Being the daughter of naturists and magical creature hunters, she had access to a wide variety of traps and non-lethal sleeping agents.

Well, she thought they were normal. Santa seemed to have this thing about running away and screaming.

Her first year, after catching only a glimpse of the man after having woken up, she had attempted to wait up and meet the gift-giving man. What child would not? The man had a whole bag full of toys! But, she had fallen asleep and woken up to presents and a warm scarf. Considerate of the man, but she would not be so easily swayed.

Her second year, which was four years ago that night, she had laid out one of her father's rope traps, hoping to catch him hanging there in the morning to tell the man exactly how upset he had caused her to get for running away before she could say 'hello'. It had failed miserably, having only caught her confused father. Though her mother had been merrier than normal all of those years.

Her third year, she had remembered Santa was magical and, as any intelligent young girl would do, she pilfered her mother's wand and used a book she had found in their library that her father and mother had co-written about catching magical creatures. Using her parents' unique genius and finding the spells with the prettiest pictures for her to imitate, she cast all the spells she thought she would need.

Apparently, you had to know how to use a wand, she learned, because the spells were mostly loud and only caused a high-pitched, girlish scream. By the time she had managed to get downstairs, which was only moments before her worried parents, she had just enough time to see an outline of a large human shape with a cone-shaped hat, outlined in black on the wall before her mother rushed her back upstairs. The flash was so bright it seemed to have blackened the whole wall except the splayed-out, fat man shape that was still the beige of what used to be their wall.

She still could not figure out how the spell screamed like that.

However, being a smart little girl, she realized she should really practice with a wand before attempting to catch such a powerful magical creature, so she spend most of the year doing just that for her third run in with the elusive fey. After much practice, and showing much interest in her parents' business, she was versed in the art of hunting magical prey. And she spent a good amount of time catching a mean-spirited redhead from the Weasley family, too. It was okay, though, because he was evil. He had taken her pudding every time he was over.

He did not dare come near her pudding bowls any more.

For that year, the third in which she attempted her life's mission, she trapped the chimney with a few different rope traps and spells, making the ground just outside of it sticky and strung enough tensile around that such a large man was bound to get caught and ensnare himself silly. Mix in a trip wire to the plate of cookies to set the tensile trap off, all with a sticking charm tied to them, and she had herself a plan.

What she hadn't counted on, however, was Santa bringing in some muscle. He had an elf with him, having apparently been thrown cautious of the house with the odd accidents. The elf had helped Santa out of the trap and they had escaped, just as she heard the charm set up to alert her to when her trap was set off, picked up from a parenting book, no less. Its original function was to alert someone under certain circumstances, such as a baby crying. She had set it to the cookies and found she had not been fast enough. Her prey was too magical to be affected by the smaller traps. While he most certainly had been captured, his elf friend got him out.

That had upset her.

The last year, she had gone all out. Declaring a one-sided war with the fat man, Luna packed away dart traps, all tipped in a massive sleeping potion silently pilfered from her parents' hunting equipment, charmed soldiers to let anything come out of the fireplace and nothing back in, slickening charms on the inside of the chimney floo, a mild confundus (which she had never gotten fully right) on the carpet of their living room for anyone who stepped on it to have a massive craving for cookies and milk (occasionally, her confundus made the target think they were lactating instead – and boy had her father been confused about that one) and lastly, several beads on the floor in little bowls that were charmed to release stunning charms when touched by a living creature. Such things were actually nicked from her father's camping equipment, for the most part, but she had seen them enough, and practiced on the mean little redhead enough times to use them efficiently.

That year, she had almost had him, but his elf had saved him. The Jolly man had come in, landing hard on his bum at the bottom of the chimney, shaking and pale as the chimney would not give him traction. He had stepped carefully into the room, tossing in a little red ball before following it. He had made his way carefully to the tree and was half way there when he stepped onto the carpet.

Oh, how Luna had thought she had him!

The man stopped and turned right to the cookies, licking his lips hungrily. She watched from her hiding place (safely ensconced in her room and peeking through an eye hole so she would not risk getting caught herself) as he went to the drugged food, much like the animals her father lured with food, wary and leery for any signs of trouble.

Then that BLASTED ELF had come down the chimney! He had stepped into the room as if he was scared of nothing and shaking his head as Santa fell prey to one of his biggest weaknesses; cookies. However, as Santa began gobbling the sweets, the elf had witnessed the soldier trap holding all of the darts and reacted before thinking, taking the whole volley of darts meant for Santa!

At least the elf would not sit right for a few weeks. That was a lot of darts.

Seeing his elf selflessly jump into an attack had broken the mild confundus on the man, and Santa grabbed the tiny, wee-person as he tossed the present under the tree and ran back to the fireplace as if Summer were right on his heels.

Luna knew she was still safe, however, as the man was yelling about crazy wizards and their even worse security systems as her tiny soldiers stopped him from entering the fireplace with more darts, illiciting a familiar scream from the man as he turned and ran towards the front door, only to get caught by his left leg in a rope trap, dropping the poor knocked out elf right on his head.

This was when Luna realized her prey was more powerful than she had given him credit for. He had turned into a sparkling mist after grabbing a hold of his elf and made it out of the door, though he accidentally knocked his elf's head on the door frame.

No. Luna had learned her lesson. Santa could not be trapped in any normal method.

That was okay, though. She had begun work on her most devious plan yet.

She had thought long and hard about what she was doing. She wondered if it would put her on the naughty list or not. Since he kept coming back, she assumed not, and wondered how many other children out there realized the same thing she had.

Namely, that there was a whole village devoted to Santa and his elves. And each of those elves made toys. Sweet, glorious toys!

Not knowing for sure and always making sure to do her planning in the loo where no one with any decency would spy on her, as apparently the man had eyes and ears everywhere, she decided she would see what happened when she won in her little game of cat and mouse with the Jolly Man. That was what led her to having pilfered her mother's wand again that night. She was outside, this time, realizing Santa would expect something inside, as was the norm. When he went down the chimney, she recast the warming charm on herself, knowing she would have to work quickly.

As soon as the man had begun his descent, Luna slowly and carefully crept up behind the elf that ruined her plans and grabbed him around the mouth and stunned him, keeping him from crying out.

Moments later, she had him stripped to his long underwear (and idly noting she had not worn full body pajama's in two years and wondering why a fully grown elf would want to, even if it did have the fun flap where she could show off her bum while running through the house to watch her parents' funny reactions when company was over) and put on the elf's green clothes, hat and black slippers, the little bells on the feet jingling merrily.

Then, with a wonderful muggle invention of duck tape (which looked nothing like a duck and was even spelled wrong on the wrapper as 'duct' and had not quacked even once,) she bound her hostage and left him in her room from her window, making it out just in time to stand at attention and act as unassuming as she could with her hands behind her back and her blonde hair now in a pony tail.

"Did everything go alright, Santa?" She asked, helping the slightly befuddled man onto the sleigh.

"Yes. Quite odd. Nothing out of the ordinary this time around," the bearded man said as he blinked owlishly at what he thought was an elf in front of him. They seemed about the same size, at least. "George? What happened to you? Your hair is all shiny and in a pony tail now."

"Oh, George said he was a little tied up, so I volunteered to take his place," Luna said soothingly as she plopped down in the seat next to Santa.

The old fairy frowned thoughtfully before shrugging. "I do hope this house didn't eat him... Hold tight! On Dasher, on Prancer, on..."

Luna sat back and smiled evilly as Santa set his reindeer into motion. She had never before made it this far and was very much looking forward to her plans.


As the sleigh pulled into the hanger at the North Pole, Luna fumed silently. After each stop, she searched the ride and found it frighteningly dull and without any hiding spaces except for a surprisingly large stash of gingerbread cookies under the seat that had begged her to free them. After the fifth stop, she was upset that they would not let her search in peace, so she bit all the heads off, silently vowing to get the recipe for her mother. Even though his bag always appeared to be empty, it seemed he could simply reach in and grab toys at will and he never once let that bag leave his sight.

As Santa handed the reins to a waiting elf, he stood from the sleigh and stretched with a yawn. "Good job this year, everyone! We got everyone on the Nice List save that Potter kid. Still couldn't find a lock on him, but we'll get him next year!"

"This is the sixth year in a row, isn't it, Boss?" An older elf asked. "Hasn't it been a long enough time?"

Santa patted the elf on the head as Luna slipped out of the hanger, unnoticed. "I'll catch up with him sooner or later, Binky."


Luna walked about the village with happy eyes as she took everything in. The shining lights, smell of cookies and constant Christmas songs coming from everywhere were really amusing and kept a near physical aura of joy around. It had not taken her long to find the factory where all of the toys were being made. And it was the one thing she had not expected.

A whole army of toy makers! There were a couple hundred tiny elves, all shorter than even herself, and they were happily hammering, screwing and painting away as they made the next year's batches of toys.

Luna grinned fiendishly.


Santa awoke the next morning, much more clearheaded and alert than when he went to bed the previous night with the potion's passing through his system.

That, and a running rush to the bathroom.

After eating his customary breakfast, he went off to the factory to see about gathering his workers and getting back to work. With the rate at which children were coming into the world, there was almost no time for his workers to rest. They got their time off from a rotating schedule so they would be happy both while working, and while not working.

The human race did not realize how much power there was in the happy emotions and good will that came about during Christmas time. From the one season of the year, the power the people of the world released was enough to keep the fairy queen Lilith, in the height of her power for most of the year. There was, of course, the standard love, happiness, kindness and good will through the year for most of the minor fairies, but the power given because of that one holiday was truly immense. The fairies had long ago come to capitalize on it and Santa's unique powers had assisted in the event as it had truly come to be to many. Few of the magical peoples, and even muggle ones that had been aware of it, celebrated the solstice for what it was, and instead celebrated the muggle's birthday.

The fairies were not about to complain, though. They loved Lilith, and she them, so it worked out in a beneficial way to everyone involved.

The kids were greedy little buggers, though. Always wanting more things, the shinier the better.

Still, he loved kids and, while the smaller ones usually smelled funny, they were great to be around and everyone in the fairy community benefited, so he was happy with his job, as were the elves. He, aside from Lilith, was the only other fairy with the power to distort the fabric of time as often and as fully as needed to be done to hit all children that believed in him. It had long ago been considered an honor.

Walking towards the factory, he smiled as he snuck out a hidden cookie from his pocket, only to drop it in sheer disbelief as he saw the elves in riot gear and armed with a wide array of magical implements normally used for cutting wood, plastic and porcelain and other toys. He stopped suddenly and squeaked as one of the elves closest to him pointed and yelled, "There he is! Get him!"

The mass of wee people in greens and reds rushed towards him with battle cries and waving the tools in the air threateningly. Santa turned tail and ran as the blonde at the top of the steps at the factory smiled serenely.


Santa huddled in fright in the stables behind the form of Prancer, who had always been friendly with the jolly man. He was the only reindeer that had not tried to eat the cookies out of his pocket.

"What is wrong with the elves today?" He asked the reindeer, being promptly ignored. So much for friendly.

There was a quick pitter-patter of a small herd of elves, who stopped just outside of the stall, making the jolly man press his form against the wall, not daring to even breathe.

"Where'd he go? The Winter Maiden wants him brought to her!" A squeaky voice whined.

"Dunno," another, deeper voice replied. "Why do you think she wants to be known by that name? It sounds ... cold."

"It is cold," a third snorted. "We're at the North Pole, over a hundred yards below the ice inside of an ice cavern. It's about as cold as it gets."

"Well you don't have to be snarky about it. What would our Winter Maiden say?"

"Probably that we'd have to settle our differences in the ice ring with glove and snowball," a fourth said, terrifying Santa to no end.

'What kind of monster would make elves fight like that!' he thought incredulously. They were always such happy little creatures!

"Come on, we've gotta find him."

Santa sighed heavily as the footsteps left quickly, earning a derisive snort from Prancer. "Oh, quiet you. I would bet a week without cookies you had something to do with this." Santa was sure the furry animal winked at him. Deciding he had to figure out who this Winter Maiden was, he gathered his power, weakened after the full night of work, and marched to the one who had taken control over his workers.


Santa walked steadily towards the factory, his face a mask of determination and elves on either side of him, corralling him to where he needed to be and making sure he did not escape once again. Several had their respect increase for him as they watched him march while others simply watched on.

He pushed open the double doors of his factory with both hands and walked into the main room, where he saw his blonde elf friend from the night before sitting on a throne, covered in robes that, while looking white, shined with silver as the threads woven in glinted the light. In her hand was a giant candy cane scepter, with a large lollipop buckle holding the robe closed.

It was decidedly odd.

"So, Santa. We finally meet, face to face," Luna said airily, pulling out a small toothpick made of candy cane and popping it into her mouth.

"George?" Santa asked, wondering what was going on. "What happened?"

Luna laughed, the sound seeming to belong in the joyous atmosphere the factory would have normally been. In this new version of it, it seemed decidedly frightful. "My dear Arch Nemesis. I have taken control over your minions and they have agreed to follow me. Once you are out of the way, I get to test run any toys and get to keep the samples, along with giving my input to increase your toy ideas and even got to make up a fun new name for myself," she said, smiling brightly. Just to bring home the seriousness of the situation, she reached into her other pocket and pulled out a gingerbread man, who began reaching for Santa.

"Help me, Santa! She's mad! She's going to-" He was silenced as Luna bit the animated cookie's head off, annoyed.

"Sorry," she told Santa. "He's been a little chatty since I ate his gumdrop buttons." She looked over at the other gingerbread men who were huddled in a cage on the table that Santa had not noticed until just then.

"That is wrong on so many levels," Santa groaned.

"You're the one who wanted them animated," she commented. "Anyway, I'm sure you wanted to know why I wanted you brought before me."

Santa nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. The thought had crossed my mind," he said, glancing at her. "I don't understand. You are human, I can feel that, but you're part fae, as well. I can feel it inside of you."

Luna tapped her chin in thought and looked up slightly as she considered that news. "I don't know. My mummy makes me puzzles, sometimes, that teach me different things about magic, including fairy magic, but I don't know if I am part fairy. It doesn't matter, though," she said, pulling out a dart gun that shot rubber suction darts.

"What are you going to do with that?" Santa asked nervously, seeing the glue dripping off the suction cup as he took a step back. "Do you expect me to talk? What do you want to know?"

"No, Santa. I don't expect you to talk. I expect you to die!"

"WHAT!" Santa screamed.

"Oh, sorry," Luna apologized bashfully. "Mother enjoys many things muggle and there was this movie," she waved her hand in the air needlessly. "I got caught up in the moment, I'm sorry."

"No problem," Santa said, eying the contraption. He had no idea how she had learned that he had an embarrassing and painful situation when he had learned about the toy and played with it. Having become frustrated that the little suction cups did not actually stick to anything, he had put glue on them and wound up attaching himself to the wall and had not been found until the next day. He had thought that building them at the North Pole would help his fear. It had not.

As soon as Luna opened her mouth to begin speaking again, the loud whistle blew, signifying the start of the working day. A collective groan issued from the elves around Luna and Santa, making the two of them look around them in confusion.

"Sorry Winter Maiden," one of the elves came up to her and said. "We have to start working now, so we can't play Pretend with you any more."

"But you were a great leader!" A nasally voice called from somewhere in the mob.

"Pretend?" Luna asked, her face a mask of surprise.

"Pretend?" Santa asked, wanting to fall to his knees and cry in happiness.

"Thanks for playing such a fun game with us, Winter Maiden," a smaller elf came up and said to Luna, not knowing her real name as she had never given it. "We don't get a lot of time to play around here."

"Yea," the first elf said with a cheeky grin. "Overlord was fun! Maybe we can make that into a new board game!" A loud huzzah went up from the elves as they quickly made their ways to their stations and two others who had joined the fun but not working went to design the new game.

The floor manager elf came up to Luna and shook her hand quickly, making her gurgle as her whole body shook. "We'll still see what we can do about sending you some new toy designs to get your input. It will be nice to get a real child's point of view. You can keep the outfit, though, as thanks from us for such a fun game."

Santa decided to take the moment of calm and grabbed Luna's shoulder gently. "Come on, kid. It's time to take you home."

Luna frowned and crossed her arms over her chest as she pouted. "Oh poo!"


[Last Omake:] -

The students sat in the Great Hall during the waning days of January. The snow was still thick outside and the tables were filled with excellent and warming food.

Hermione twisted the charm bracelet on her wrist she had received only a month before from Harry unconsciously as she spoke with the green-eyed seeked about their Transfiguration assignment they had finished just before entering for dinner. It was a silver bracelet that actually had the charms inside of hard metal band rather than dangling freely. It was as much for security as it was for safety and stealth; neither she, nor Harry, had wanted to risk losing the charms or allow the jingling charms to alert anyone to their presence while roaming the school. That, and he had each of the eight charms enchanted to provide her massive protections after having paid a handsome fee to the goblins for doing the actual magic work.

"I'm just saying," Hermione said again, "that you probably shouldn't have transfigured Ron into a duck, Harry. McGonagall is still having difficulties transforming him back because of the power behind your spells these days."

Harry blushed lightly and cleared his throat. He was not about to admit to having done that very thing on purpose. He and Hermione had been growing closer, much closer, the past few years and he had finally decided to speak with her alone to ask her to be his. And Ron had been suspicious of that for even long than Harry had realized he wanted to do so. "I'm sure she can change him back. At least the cats aren't trying to get him anymore."

Hermione snorted. "That's only because Dumbledore had to come and put up wards so only humans could even enter the room."

"Well, he deser-" Harry was cut off by a loud boom of the Great Hall doors, closed to keep the warmth of the room in, as it stopped him nearly admitting he had done it on purpose. As the second boom of the doors hit, all of the students jumped, though Harry, Hermione and the faculty jumped into ready stances and pointed their wands at the door rather than in fright as many of the others had.

On the third boom, the doors flew open and all of the gathered students blinked owlishly at the sight before them.

"Is ... Is that Santa Claus?" Hermione asked incredulously. Indeed, there at the doors was an average height male, with an above average belly, in the standard red and white of the Santa Claus outfit her own father loved to dress up in over the holidays. Even right down the the long, white beard that Dumbledore could never hope to achieve.

"Grampa Nick!" Many of the students jumped as the happy voice of Luna Lovegood ran from her table and nearly tackled the large man in a hug that had his eyes bulging comically.

"Now, now. What have I called you about calling me that?" The jolly man's voice bellowed, instantly making all of those who heard him feel the strong sensations of Christmas

Luna pulled back and put her hands behind her back as she answered primly, "to only call you that when I'm not trying to take over your village and start an elf rebellion and take over your position as Father Christmas."

All of the students and faculty looked at each other in confusion, wondering how the hell that conversation had ever come up.

"Oh," Santa said thoughtfully. "I was wondering about that." He looked down at her quizzically. "And what are you supposed to call me when you are starting a rebellion?"

"The Enemy," she said simply, causing Santa to pull at his collar.

"Ah, yes. Well," he looked out at the gathered students and waved his hand, blocking all of them from their magic before stepping forward and looking throughout the hall, Luna at his heels as he came right up to Harry, who was still standing in the aisle. "You're Harry Potter, yes?"

Harry nodded with narrowed eyes. "I am. And you're ... Santa, I presume?"

"Ho ho ho! Yes, I most certainly am!" The jolly man laughed as Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Even in the world of magic, this was absolutely ridiculous.

"Sir, if you're-" Hermione began

"Santa," the man in red interrupted her.

"Very well, Santa. If you're ... you ... then what are you doing here?"

"Ah, quite frankly, my dear, I'm here because I haven't been able to get to Harry during Christmas when my powers are their strongest. Because of that, I haven't been able to give the boy his presents for the last fifteen years." Santa certainly looked angry about the whole thing as Hermione blinked curiously.

"Then what are you doing here? Now?" Harry asked, taking the words from Hermione's mouth.

"As I said, my powers are strongest when it's Christmas time. But, this isn't Christmas, so because I refuse to stop giving you your presents after you're of age, I got permission from the Fairy Queen, Lilith, and was given the powers of all the fairies for this one present. You have the option to ask for literally anything you want."

"Anything?" Both Harry and Hermione breathed out in shock.

"Aye. Anything you want, lad. It's yours," Santa nodded quickly. "I haven't been able to reach you during any Christmas because of wards that bugger," he said, pointing at a blushing Dumbledore, "had put up around you. You were completely inaccessible to me without tearing them down, and that would have left you vulnerable the whole year and thereafter." Santa leaned back and put his hands on his hips.

"Now, I'm aware you've got a dark lord after you, so I suppose you'll be wanting nigh on god-like powers? Ability to control all the elements, magical immunity like a dragon's, corrected eyesight, maybe bringing back your parents and all the greats from history to come back and fight for you? Eh? Sound good?" Santa asked, proud of trying to think of a way to correct his inability of finding the boy and already having come up with something in order to help so the he would not have to think of anything on his own.

"Are you completely mad?" Harry asked, his expression telling Santa exactly what he thought of that idea.

"Eh?" Santa looked like everything he had known was completely thrown out of whack. And for a fairy of any sort, that was impressive.

"Oh no. If I'm going to get anything I want," Harry smiled as visions of Hermione swam through his head before he cleared them. 'No. It would be best to get her of my own merits. Not magic.'

"Harry," Hermione said nervously. "You could have the power to defeat Voldemort in your fingertips, or even just say you want him completely and totally dead. Why won't you do it?"

Dumbledore stepped beside Harry, seemingly out of nowhere. "Harry, my boy. Think of the Greater Good. You could do wondrous things with this kind of a wish."

Harry snorted, "screw the 'Greater Good'," to Dumbledore's shock. Indeed, the whole school population aside from Luna and Santa leaned backwards in their surprise.


It was the middle of the night when Voldemort popped into a dank, stone room without his wand and with his precious horcruxes broken at his feet, their souls, he could sense, having already been taken to the hereafter. His eyes widened as he realized he was no officially mortal and unable to recreate his ticket into immortality, as he had already stretched his soul to the limits.

Not knowing where he was at, but knowing some powerful force had just sent him wherever they wanted, he quickly tried to spin on his heel, his robes billowing around his feet and apparate out, only to find he was now without magic and that what he thought was a wall to his left was actually a wall of cold, iron bars.

A creaking behind him caused the suddenly terrified dark lord to spin and see a man get off of a small cot. Voldemort couldn't figure it out! Since when did muggles capture what was apparently a half giant! Were he to stand at his full six-two height, he would only come up to the man's chest!

Another shadow fell from the top bedding of what Voldemort now realized was a second cot-like bed hanging on the wall above the first. Was that man half troll? When did muggles get that hairy!

Speaking in a very backwater accent and his voice like gravel, the man Voldemort was sure was half giant spoke, "you sure do got a purdy mouth."


Across the country the next morning, The-Boy-Who-Lived raised his head and frowned as his new girlfriend snuggled up to him on the couch in the Gryffindor common room.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" She asked, noticing his intense expression.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I just thought I heard a girlish scream in my head."

Hermione giggled and leaned up to nibble on his ear. "Wanna hear a real girl scream?" She asked coyly, motioning her eyes up the boy's staircase and slowly leaving the couch. Harry watched with wide eyes as she left the room, apparently not caring that they were about to miss Double Potions.


Santa Challenge:

My challenge is to have Harry, Hermione and Luna the sole survivors of the resistance against Voldemort and his minions, who have taken control over the wizarding world and, from behind the scenes, the muggle one as well.

After at least seven, and no longer than ten, years of being alone together and on the run, Santa is sent to them by order of Lilith, the Fairy Queen. All, and I do mean ALL, fairies that were still alive sacrificed themselves and their power to Santa to give him incredible power boots each. He sends them back in time to either third year, or the summer before fourth.

Keep in mind, and make a point to mention, that time moves differently around the fairy. That is why they can go back without destorying the time-stream and into their original bodies (up to you if they merge power cores or not) without creating a paradox. It's the power of the fairy.

It has to remain Harry/Hermione/Luna. Details can be found in my profile's forum.