To all Harry/Hermione fans, here's a festive tale for you.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Harry Potter, but who knows what Father Christmas will bring me this year :)

Harry Potter and the Twelve Days of Christmas

Chapter 6: A Slight Error in the Calculations.

18th December 2001.

Having delivered presents four and five that very morning, a part of Harry felt as though he ought to reward himself with the rest of the day off. Fortunately Harry's more sensible side won out and he went in search of the next day's present. Even more fortunately, the song was not specific as to the kind of goose required, though given that they are stated to be "laying" it was safe to assume that all of them had to be female.

So one trip to a poultry farm later, Harry James Potter was the proud owner of three Embden geese and three Shetland geese.

Finally Harry was a day ahead of himself, and now, he decided, was time to relax.

All six geese were shut in the shed to keep them from wandering off, and making a hell of a lot of noise to boot.

The farmer whom Harry had purchased the geese from had been kind enough to include a book entitled "A how to keep Geese" (bet you can't guess what it's about) and it was this that Harry decided to read during his down-time. After all, there was a distinct change that the geese would be sticking around for a while, and someone had to know how to look after them.

"While geese were among the first animals to be domesticated," he read "they were not, and still are not, as common as chickens in barnyards. The reason is that they are not as prolific as chickens in terms of egg laying. While chickens lay eggs regularly, geese only lay 30 to 50 eggs per year. This limits their usefulness as egg producers and also means that it takes longer to increase the size of the flock for meat production."

Wait, what? 30 to 50 eggs per year? Was that right?

Well crap. Even if a goose did lay the maximum of fifty eggs per year; that was still not even one egg per week. Was it even worth keeping them for their eggs? Or even for meat production?

Of course, having six geese did increase the chances of getting an egg, but the song clearly states that all six geese were meant to be laying. What were the chances that six geese, who individually were unlikely to lay as many as fifty eggs per year, would all happen to each produce one of those eggs on the nineteenth of December of one particular year? There was a one in fifty change that a single goose would lay and egg on that day, or was it one in fifty two? No, wait… one in seven... no, that wasn't right… but… no… Argh! Hermione was the one to do maths like that, not Harry.

It didn't matter what the actual statistics were, all Harry needed to know that the chances of six geese all laying an egg on the same specific day were relatively miniscule!

Damn.

It was mid-afternoon when Harry drove up the dirt track that led to the farmhouse. On seeing him pull up, the farmer, who had just been off to feed his dog, made his way over.

"Not bringing 'em back, I 'ope." he asked.

"No, no." replied Harry "I just need a few more."

"'Ow many more?"

"Fifty four." replied Harry.

That's right, you heard. Harry Potter wanted to have a grand total of sixty geese.

There was logic to this. As noted above, it is highly unlikely that six geese, who individually only lay a maximum of fifty eggs per year, would all manage to lay an egg each tomorrow. Harry figured that increasing the number of geese he had by a multiple of ten could only increase the odds that six of them would produce eggs tomorrow by a factor of ten.

Hermione might have been the brainy one, but even Harry could work out that increasing his chances by a multiple of ten could only work in his favour.

Right?

The famer eyes his suspiciously for a moment, wondering what the hell this random bloke wanted with sixty geese, but then decided "Who was he to ask questions?"

He gave a nod and muttered "Righ'. Follow me."

"In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In. In."

That was the sound of Harry trying to shove sixty fully grown geese into his six-foot by eight-foot garden shed.

He probably should have taken the wheelbarrow, spade, bucket and gardening fork out first so as to make more room.

Finally he managed to get the last one in and shove the door shut behind them.

This might sound cruel, but Harry figured that they came from a battery farm, so they were pretty much used to this.

And it was only for the one night.

Back in his front room, Harry once again opened his book on geese and turned to the section about egg laying.

"Geese require a shelter where they will lay their eggs. Each goose will require at minimum four square feet of space. It will need to be filled with straw for bedding. It is also recommended that you add nest boxes outside the shelter. Geese will also lay their eggs in these. These can be created by filling a crate or an open-topped box with straw."

Harry wasn't entirely sure that how Hermione was planning on keeping her blackbirds or pheasants, but he figured that it was likely the keeping of the Geese would fall to him.

Well, they were only going to keep six of the geese, depending on which of them laid eggs tomorrow. That meant they'd need a twelve foot by eight foot shelter.

Harry flipped the book shut and muttered "Oh well, off to the garden centre again."

Harry once again forced his way through the throng of excited people shopping for Christmas decorations and once again found his favourite elf that wasn't Dobby on her break and smoking a cigarette. Once again she summoned the bespectacled Ian who slowly led Harry to a display of garden sheds. Harry wasn't entirely sure that a shed was quite what the book had meant about a shelter for the geese, but then what else was there?

There were no twelve by eight sheds, and closest was ten by eight. In the end, Harry decided Hermione might appreciate it more if he gave the geese more room instead of less, so he brought the next available size up: fourteen by twelve.

"I sure hope that Hermione appreciates this." Harry thought as he dragged the flat-packed shed out to his car.

Hang on… how the hell was he supposed to get home?

Oh, right, he was a wizard.

Harry apparated home, dropped off the shed and then returned for the car.

As is typical with most things purchased in the UK, the shed's assembly instructions came with nothing written in English, and diagrams that seemed to apply more to a chest of drawers than it did a shed, and so Harry was left to put the thing together himself.

It took him well into the night.

Around half past eleven, a couple were making their way home from the pub and they passed Harry's garden. This is what they heard:

'Bang.' "Ow." 'Bang.' 'Bang.' 'Bang.' 'Bang.' 'Bang.' 'Bang.' 'Bang.' "Ow." 'Bang.' "Ow." 'Bang.' 'Bang.' 'Ting.' "Shit! Where did that go?"

19th December 2001.

Despite his lack of sleep the night before, Harry got to the market early the next morning and purchased every empty crate he could. Then, substituting straw with newspaper, Harry made them up into nest boxes.

Then he spent the next three and a half hours herding sixty rumbled and highly disgruntled geese from his cramped and possibly forever ruined garden shed to his rather precarious looking attempt at a goose shelter.

When he got them all inside, he slammed the door shut and grabbed a hold of his wand.

Thankfully being an Auror meant that he was allowed to cast a port-key charm whenever he wanted.

"Portus."

He grabbed on and he, the shed and the geese inside were transported to their new destination.

Hermione and Emma Granger were stood together on the back steps of their house, each drinking a mug of hot chocolate and admiring the winter scene when the unthinkable happened.

The Tardis landed.

Or at least, for a second, that's what Hermione had thought had happened.

Then she realised that it was a shed that had appeared from thin-air. Judging from the way it spun when it appeared, she supposed it must have been a port-key. In fact the human body that was thrown several feet from it seemed to confirm that belief.

And then the she fell over on its side.

Not good.

And then the door broke open.

Also not good.

In an explosion of feathers and shredded newspaper a whole gaggle of geese erupted through the door of the shed and out into the garden, honking and hissing loudly.

At least a dozen of these birds went for the person who had arrived with the shed and began attacking him.

"Is that Harry?" asked Emma.

Hermione listened for a moment to the shouts and cries of pain.

Yeah, it was Harry.

She chucked her cup down in the snow and then marched across the garden, blasted the geese attacking Harry with a knockback jinx, then grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him to his feet. Together the scrambled to the house, getting through the back door with Emma slamming it shut in just the nick of time. The geese had been on their ankles.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Dan as he entered the room.

Leading against the door and panting, Hermione replied "Harry's here and he's brought geese."

"And they're a little hacked off." added Harry.

Suddenly Emma's eye's widened with fear "The kitchen window's open."

Harry and Hermione raced towards the kitchen. Sure enough, standing on the draining board, before the open window was a goose. With an angry his it jumped down and charged Harry who backed away into Dan, knocking him over. Three more geese burst through the window as Hermione nailed the first with a stunning spell.

"The window, Harry!" Hermione screamed as she took down another bird "Get to the window and close it!"

Harry had to fight his way through several very angry geese in order to get to the window; several pecked viciously at his feet as others flapped maddeningly around his head.

Dan and Emma both now entered the fray, each jumping on a goose and wrestling it to the ground.

"Harry, shut the window!" cried Hermione as she fought frantically against the growing flock that was wrecking the kitchen.

"I can't." yelled Harry, and he couldn't. No matter how hard he pushed, the sliding window did not seem to want to budge.

"Harry, for the love of God shut the effing window!" bellowed Dan.

Harry looked around for something to help him, but there was nothing. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye Harry saw something that definitely was not a goose perch in the window frame.

Harry's eyes met the pheasant's, and for a moment they stared at each other.

Then the pheasant gave Harry's hand a rather nasty peck.

"Ouch!" he yelled, stepping back.

"Ouch!" he yelled again when a flying goose pecked the top of his head.

Officially pissed off now, Harry grabbed the nearly full bottle of fairy liquid washing up soak from next to the sink and blasted every flying thing in the room with it, also covering just about everything else. Then he blasted the pheasant, causing it to fall outside backwards with surprise. He sent a powerful blast through the window to deter any more would-be incomers, and then splashed what remained along the base of the window frame. Then, with one massive shove, he forced the window shut, just in time for three geese, a pheasant and a blackbird to slam into the glass.

Harry turned to the others in the room to see them glaring at him, covered in green soak and white feathers.

"Well there's something to be said for the turtle doves being dead." Harry observed brightly, before nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of the three chickens.

"Relax, Harry." said Hermione "They're only egg cups."

"Right." said Harry "Um, now what?"

"I've got some calming draught upstairs." replied Hermione "We can use that to calm them down."

Harry nodded and the two left the room.

Dan moved to collect the broom from the cupboard, but slipped and fell flat on his back.

"Serves you right." Emma told him. She knew about Harry's mission, and was not best pleased.

Upstairs, Hermione opened her old school trunk and took out four phials containing calming draughts. She handed two of these to Harry, and then led the way over to the bedroom window. From there, she and Harry poured the potions over the mob of birds below. The fumes and vapours were enough to finally calm the creatures.

Harry turned, smiling, but was met with a scowling Hermione.

"Hey, come on." said Harry, trying to lighten the mood "look on the bright side: at least it wasn't a murder of crows."

Hermione just thwacked him on the side of the head with her knuckles and left the room in a huff.

A/N: So what do you think? Again, I don't think Harry's logic can really be faulted, just his calculations, and his method. I am well aware that some breeds of domestic geese will produce a few more eggs per year than stated here, but the impression I got was that thirty to fifty per year was about average.