It was suddenly Christmastime at Hogwarts. Ah, how swiftly time flies, does it not? A thin blanket of snow was gently falling over the grounds. Old Jack Frost was mischieviously frosting windowpanes and causing young, unexpecting limbs to wither and fall off due to extreme frostbite. Some of the less loved, or more independent (whatever light you wish to shed on it) students were staying at school for what promised to be a warm and nurturing holiday season. Harry, as his family hated him (and with good reason), was among these students, lowering their spirits, as per usual. As he passed his magically inclined peers in the holly-bedecked halls, they would give him menacing glares and whisper furiously amongst themselves, but Harry always took this as a compliment.

"That's it, dear, stay on the positive side of things," a matronly woman eating a large helping of Christmas pudding called encouragingly as he passed, not realizing that she would have to spend the entire afternoon listening to him babble on about how hard it was to be alive and how everyone really loved him, didn't they? Did she want an autograph? Was she quite sure that she didn't want to have a little paper lightning bolt signed?

Abraham Goldstein, a member of a very prominent Pureblood Jewish family, was, suprisingly, staying at Hogwarts as well. His family loved him very much, but he had gone on a hunger strike until he was allowed to stay. He insisted upon lobbying in front of dear J.K Rowling's office for her failure to add Mennorahs to the original books, finding it very offensive. She was conveniently in a state of perpetual "power-lunching," and never quite could make it to his appointments.

Our possum-y friend was enjoying the holiday season, too. Perhaps he was enjoying it a tad too much to be quite wholesome. He was in a festive mood, having decorated his forehead-implanted camera with a decorative sprig of mint. While in a moment of extreme holiday cheer, he had installed cameras cleverly disguised as distasteful baubles to the side of each and every bunch of hanging mistletoe that just so happened to be in Harry's path.

Aren't the holidays just so great at bringing folks together?