Fairy Tale

"Gah! What I wouldn't give for a time-turner right now!"

It was a strange exclamation to be sure, from an even stranger man. To explain the strangeness of both the statement and its source, one had to understand both.

The man in question was Santa Claus, a strange man who lived in the North Pole. His house was kept afloat on ice by all manner of charms and whenever a polar bear strayed too close, it suddenly remembered an appointment it had forgotten to keep elsewhere. In this house was another witch named Mrs. Claus (no first name, just Mrs.) and a few dozen pixies. These pixies in turn, far from being the pests known to most wizarding folk, spent 364 days per year making presents. These presents in turn were delivered to billions of wizards, witches and even Muggles…even after the non-magical community had hijacked his image for one of their fizzy drinks that even had a few pure bloods hooked. No amount of gnuts, sickles or even galleons made it into Saint Nick's non-existent coffers, yet he did this year after year without any signs of age. Philosopher's Stone, eat your heart out.

Or maybe he was using a horcrux. Some wouldn't put it past him.

Suffice to say, Santa Claus was a strange man. So his statement for a time turner was therefore strange in turn. As stated earlier, he delivered presents to billions. What wasn't stated earlier, but will be stated here, was that he did this all in a single night. No wizard knew what kind of charm he'd used on his sleigh, or where he'd got all those enchanted reindeer from (one even had a red nose of all things!) but they were far more efficient than apparition or even a portkey. So why need a time turner when he could travel so far and so fast?

The Wizarding World would. Or, if they did, they'd forget via a memory charm. A charm to forget the secret getting out that Santa had left this year's presents to the last minute. Yet history was about to be made. Not from that Muggle drink, oh no…something much more grand. Something that stemmed from a pixie walking into Santa's office, ignoring the winking pictures of every reindeer from Rudolph to Dancer and Prancer. A pixie who had no idea what awaited him.

"Santa?" asked the diminutive being, holding up the Christmas tree for his master to see. "What would you like me to do with this?"

Santa didn't answer. He acted.

After that, it became tradition for fairies to be stuffed on top of Christmas trees.