So this is something that I found laying around on my computer, I wrote it quite some time ago but I haven't posted it... that I can remember. Hope you enjoy. Next chapter of "What if you had to die..." is coming along nicely.
Letter to Father Christmas
Christmastime had come again to Hogwarts, and for once, Harry didn't have something hanging over his head as he sat in the great hall and listened to the chatter of the students as they prepared to leave for Christmas break. Laughter and the sounds of carols filled the air, as with Voldemort's recent death, at Harry's hand, the wizarding world was in tremendous spirits. As he looked around, he would notice young wizards and witches, mostly first and second years, touching wands to envelopes and setting them aflame, giggling and chattering as the letters were quickly burned to ash. At other tables, owls would arrive bearing green envelopes tied with bright red ribbons that were opened quickly and joyously by their recipients. The older students would watch with bemused and sometimes wistful smiles at the cheer their younger friends were experiencing.
"What's going on?" Harry whispered to Ginny Weasley, who was sitting next to him after helping a child with his Incendio charm.
"They're writing letters to Father Christmas," She whispered back, voice pitched with excitement.
"And the green envelopes?"
Ginny gave him an odd look, then shook her head. "I forget sometimes that you're muggle-raised, Harry. Children write letters to Father Christmas and burn them, usually at home in the fireplace, or with a burning charm at school. Father Christmas gets them, and then sends his response back in the green envelopes." She smiled wistfully, "It was always so much fun."
Harry just nodded, his head cocked, and a curious expression on his face. "Wizards believe in Father Christmas?"
Ginny blinked at him, "Of course we do, Harry. Doesn't everyone?"
Harry just nodded, then watched the children with renewed interest.
Later that night, in the Gryffindor common room, Harry was hunched over a piece of parchment, writing with a very serious, and almost sad, expression on his face, as his best friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley walked in. He didn't pay them much mind, until he heard Hermione ask about Christmas charms for the envelopes. He raised his head, and looked over to them.
"What was that about, Hermione?"
"I was just asking Ron when we learn about the Christmas charms… the ones the parents put on their children's letters, so they can get them back when they are burned. And the one to make those envelopes so pretty when they get back to the kids! Its so exciting!"
Ron shrugged, "Honestly, I think most parents teach their kids when they get older… Mum taught me them last year, but I know that there are some books about them, and you can get the parchment at a couple shops in Diagon Alley to give to the kids…"
"You mean… they don't really go to Father Christmas?" Harry asked, his voice curiously level.
Hermione giggled, and Ron chuckled. "No, Harry," Hermione said, "Honestly, we're a little old to believe in something like that, aren't we? Its just fun for the kids."
Harry looked uncomfortable for a moment, then chuckled, "Yeah, we are. Silly thing to ask, really. I just sometimes get lost in all the magic and traditions that I get… You know, I'm feeling kind of tired, I'm going to head to bed, alright?"
Hermione looked concerned as Harry tried to swiftly retreat, "Are you alright?" She asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Good. Just, you know, tired." He yawned, obviously overacting, then grabbed his books and went up the stairs. Hermione and Ron shared a look, and Ron followed Harry up, as Hermione went over to where her friend had been sitting. She spotted a dropped envelope on the ground where he had just been, and went over to it, about to return it, when she read the label.
To: Father Christmas
From: Harry James Potter
Feeling like a lead weight had settled in her stomach, she snatched up the letter and stuck it in a book, then went up to her room. She sat on her bed, and pulled out the letter again, then guiltily opened it and began to read.
Dear Father Christmas;
My name is Harry Potter… I don't think we've ever met… I remember you coming to see Dudley once, but I don't think you saw me, because I was in my cupboard under the stairs, making no noise whatsoever and pretending I didn't exist. Sometimes if I think really hard, I think I remember you coming to see me when I lived with my parents, but I wasn't very old so you probably don't remember.
I'm sorry that I never really believed in you. When I was little I think I hoped you would come and give me a present, because no one else did, but I think when I was 4 or 5 I gave up on you. I feel kind of bad about that, because I'm sure it was just that you didn't know I was there. No one else did, so it makes sense to think that you wouldn't either. My first Christmas at Hogwarts, I remember waking up and Ron (Ron Weasley… I'm sure you know the Weasley's. They're a great family, one of the best I think) telling me I had presents. For just a minute, when I was rushing downstairs, I thought that maybe that year you'd come to see me after all, and maybe I was wrong about you after all. With all the magic and everything that I had found out about, it just seemed logical (Hermione would be so proud of me using that word) that you were probably real too.
You didn't come, of course, and I didn't think to see if you had been there for anyone else, but when we were in the great hall after everyone got back, I heard some of the other kids talking about the great gifts you had left them, and I couldn't help but feel alittle jealous.
But that's all in the past, and I don't want to sound bitter or ungrateful. Now that I think about it, most magic requires an absolute belief, that, really, I didn't possess. And honestly, I don't think this letter will reach you, but if it does, I don't want to sound like a spoiled brat like Dudley always did. (I wondered sometimes about why you gave him so much stuff, but I bet Petunia and Vernon probably supplemented – she's really rubbing off on me isn't she – your gifts with some of their own.)
I'm not really asking for anything for myself, really. I mean, let's face it. I've got the Potter fortune, my trust fund, and the entire Black holding in a couple of vaults at Gringotts… there's nothing that I couldn't buy for myself if I wanted to. But… I didn't see any of my friends writing you this year, so I thought maybe I'd just send something along for them, in case they forgot.
For Bill and Charlie… I don't know them really well, honestly. How about just nice cloaks and new shoes? Well, I guess I could get those for them…
How about this… for all the Weasley's… help them remember that they are a great family, and when people are trying to help them, they shouldn't get mad about it, just because I, I mean the people, have more money than they do, and its not really that bad to just take the help…
Get alittle something extra for Mrs. Weasley. She's always been so nice to me, even when I didn't deserve it. Get her a dress or something. She's never let me get that for her.
Ginny needs some new dress robes, too. She's been a little sister to me for a long time, even when she did fancy me, but she's just like her mum, and doesn't like charity.
You can take the money from my vault for it. I'll leave the key in my trunk inside my photo album. Just be careful with the pictures, they're all I really have of my parents, unless there are some more in the vaults at Gringott's.
You probably don't have much to do with this, but Head Boy still hasn't been decided yet. I know Dumbledore wants me to have it, but I don't want it. I killed a man, for goodness sake, so what do I need it for.
I guess that puts me on your bad list for the rest of my life, doesn't it?
Anyways, Head boy is open... maybe you could see about getting it to Ron? He's a great guy, and he's always been there for me. Sure he's alittle hotheaded sometimes… a lot of the time… but he's a great friend, and a really good leader. If not… get him a firebolt. He's wanted one forever, and he won't let me buy him one.
If you have some time, and don't mind helping someone like me out, that is. Like I said, I can pay for it.
Luna is still getting her stuff stolen. Can you do something about that? If you can, I'd appreciate it. She's a sweet girl, and doesn't deserve to be treated that way.
Neville's written to you, I'm sure. His gran would make him. But if not… maybe some new books on herbology? He's a genius in the greenhouse, that one.
Oh, and Professor Dumbledore needs some new socks. Tell him I suggested them.
For Hermione…. You know she could always use some more books, but… she's not really happy, I can tell. I don't think Ron is EVER going to wake up to how she feels about him. She's fancied him for awhile, I can tell, and even though it hurts me sometimes, I'm content in knowing that if she's with Ron, she'll always be around, even if its just as my best friend and unofficial sister-in-law. Can you help Ron get a clue? I hate seeing her hurt like she has been, because it hurts me too.
I don't know if they have Christmas in the afterlife, but I can almost see in my mind Mum decorating a mansion somewhere for Christmas, and Dad and Sirius doing their level best to make her have a rough job of it, and playing quidditch with the ornaments in the living room. I think they may have done that when I was little. I don't really remember for sure, but the picture's there, almost as clear as if I'd seen it happen.
If you do anything for me… maybe let me dream of them, just once? I've still been having nightmares, either of the battle, or my friends dying or of Hermione being killed…
I don't really deserve to ask for any of this, but I didn't know you accepted post, or I would have sent something sooner. Maybe you wouldn't be as likely to toss it aside. If you read this at all, and have gotten this far, I hope you have a good holiday, even though I know you'll be working a lot. And… thank you, even if you don't get any of this. Just for taking the time to read a letter from a boy who's been ignoring you.
Happy Christmas
Harry Potter.
PS: Can you get Hedwig some nice owl treats? I forgot to pick some up in Hogsmeade last time I went, and she's always a great friend. One of my first, too.
Hermione had been alternating between smiles and tears the entire time she'd been reading the letter, but when she put it down, she burst into tears, both at the heartfelt sentiment it contained, and at the knowledge that she had just destroyed alittle bit more hope in her best friend's heart. She cried for abit longer, then collected herself and went downstairs. Ron sat, staring forlornly at the fire as Hermione sat next to him.
"Harry doesn't want to come down." Ron said. "He's just… staring out the window, watching the owls."
Hermione nodded. "Ron… when did you stop believing in Father Christmas?"
"Second year. I asked him to bring me a broom, and the response letter had tears on it, that said he would love to, but just couldn't. Mum said something to me, reminding me that I might get a broom if I made prefect, and… I just knew. What about you?"
Hermione sighed, "My parents told me when I was 8. They said I was too old for such nonsense. It hurt me really badly."
Ron nodded. "I don't think Harry ever stopped believing." He whispered
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think he ever started. Until today. And then… then I… " she sniffled again, then started to cry on Ron's shoulder. He put his arm around her shoulder uncomfortably as she wept.
"What do we do?" She asked brokenly.
"I don't know."
Hermione sniffled, then whispered, "He wrote a letter."
"What did he ask for?"
"Nothing… well, nothing for himself. Just…" she sniffled again. "Just things for his friends."
"Well, there goes finding out what he wants for Christmas."
"Ron… do you fancy me?" Ron pulled his arm away like he had been burned and started stuttering.
"Wh…wha..Whatgivesyouthatidea?"
"Do you?"
Ron looked up the stairs. "I did. For a long time, really. But… I think it was just because you were always there. I couldn't imagine not seeing you, but… sometimes wanted some space."
She nodded.
"Did you ever fancy me?" He asked quietly.
"Yes… and no."
"You'll have to better than that." Ron said with a smile.
"Before Hogwarts… I didn't really have any friends. And then you and Harry came along, and suddenly I was with you both, having some of the best times of my life. I knew it would be one of you, I just… assumed it would be you."
"Where did this come from?" Ron asked, still alittle confused. "I mean… we've never talked about this…"
Hermione handed Ron the letter, which he read quickly. "Bloody hell." He muttered, his face ashen.
"Yeah."
"Should we tell Harry we read this?"
Hermione shook her head, and took it from Ron, then placed it on the table. She drew her wand, and Ron, catching on, did the same. "Incendio" They both muttered, and the treated parchment caught fire and burned to ash. They smiled at each other, and went up to their dormitories.
Christmas morning, Harry awoke and saw a green envelope tied with red ribbon laying on his blanket.
To: Mr. Harry James Potter
He opened it, confused and alittle hopeful, and read the letter quickly.
Harry;
I'm not as real as some people want, but I live in the joy and hopes of boys and girls everywhere. I can't give you everything you asked for, but maybe I can give you something just as good.
Professor Dumbledore is waking up to about 20 pairs of nice wooly socks in his quarters. Its better you not ask how they got there.
The Weasley's (all of them) didn't get the things you asked, but I can promise you that no one will say anything if you were to buy them all the things you had asked me to get for them.
Luna's dorm-mates are going to learn exactly how effective anti-theft charms can be, and Neville will be getting at least 2 books on Herbology, besides the ones I know you bought.
And Hermione… she and Ron had a talk you know, and she would like to have one with you. One you may not expect the outcome to.
I know your parents and Sirius are looking down on you, and are very proud of the young man you've become. I may not have been there for you in the past, and I may not in the future, but for right now, I'll just say, Happy Christmas Harry.
-Father Christmas
PS: Hedwig has enough owl treats to last her until summer… just ask Hermione for them
Harry got out of bed, and made his way downstairs, to Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting around opening presents. He walked over to Hermione and said, "You sent this, didn't you?"
She shrugged, blushing slightly.
Harry paused, and then smiled slightly. "Happy Christmas Hermione."
She stood, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Happy Christmas Harry."