"A Hogwarts Christmas Carol"

Ebenezer Scrooge – Cornelius Fudge

Bob Cratchit – Arthur Weasley

Mrs. Cratchit – Molly Weasley

Tiny Tim – Ginny Weasley

Cratchit Children – Weasley Children

Nephew Fred – Ludo Bagman

Clara – Nymphadora Tonks

Belle – Narcissa Malfoy

Past – Minerva McGonagall

Present - Hagrid

Future – Dementor of Azkaban

Storytellers – Harry, Ron, Hermione

Donation Men – Dean and Seamus

Beggar - Dobby

Jacob Marley – Barty Crouch Sr.

So guys... its been about 5 years since I've written for This is my version of "A Harry Potter Christmas Carol." I know there are probably around roughly 19283 different "Harry Potter Christmas Carols" on this website... but I've always wanted to do my own.

I tried to keep it as close to the books as I could.

I'm aware that I am using some of the original text in my story. That belongs to the great Charles Dickens.

Yes, Tonks and Ludo are a couple here. I don't ship them, (or anyone, really) but it seemed to fit.

I really didn't want to make Ginny the Tiny Tim-like figure here, but again, it just worked.

Carry on!

"Old Crouch was dead, to begin with. Dead. As dead as a doornail."

"Ronald, could you be more blatant?"

"What? That's is how the story begins, Hermione! You mean you didn't know that?"

"Oh... well of course I did! I just... just..."

Harry cleared his throat. "Ron, Hermione, can we... er..." he gestured to the readers eagerly awaiting the story.

Hermione cooled off. "Right. Anyway."

"He was a twisted hand at the grindstone, Fudge. A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, clutching, covetous old sinner."

The Minister had a tiring job. He missed his old partner and friend, Barty Crouch, who mysteriously disappeared. Crouch seemed to be the only one who understood and sympathize with him.

It was Christmas Eve, and things were winding down at the Ministry. The only ones left inside the building were he, Fudge, and one other ministry worker, Arthur Weasley.

Arthur Weasley was a tired, balding red-haired man. This man's name was Arthur Weasley. Arthur worked tirelessly in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry. Ridiculously underpaid, but a generous, warm, jolly, good fellow. This particular man knocked on Fudge's door.

"What?" Arthur heard Fudge bark from behind the heavy, mahogany door.

"Sir, it's Arthur Weasley."

"Enter."

"What do you want, Weasley?"

Arthur closed the door behind him. Fudge, a blundering, gray-haired man was sitting behind his rather big desk in the elaborate office. On his desk were piles of deep purple scrolls of parchment on which was a letter writing in silver, loopy writing. Ministry firing notices. What a time to sack someone, Arthur thought to himself.

"Sir, I-I was wondering..."

He took a deep breath. He wanted more than ever to request Christmas Day off. It's been years since he and his partner, Perkins, had ever had a full day off on the twenty-fifth. His children understood that work was very important in order to keep bread on the table, but he could tell they were hurt every time he left a steaming Christmas pudding to report to an incident.

"Weasley, I don't have all day," Fudge said.

"Well, tomorrow, sir-"

All of a sudden the two men heard a bellowing "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"from outside the office door.

Fudge cringed. Of all the days.

Without even bothering to knock, Ludo Bagman burst through the doorway, ran up to Fudge and kissed him on the cheek.

"Ludo, what a surprise."

"Cornelius, a very happy day to you!" He spotted Arthur. "Ah, Arthur, my boy! A Merry Christmas to you!"

Arthur inclined his head and gave Ludo a hearty handshake. "Same to you! Same to you!" He was about to give Ludo a pat on the back, but catching the menacing look on his employer's face made him think twice.

"Ludo, what the blazes do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Oh, Cornelius, I don't mean to keep you long, I can certainly see your... erm... busy indeed," he said spotting the huge pile of firing notices on the desk.

"Get to the point then," Fudge stood up and went over to a cabinet for a brandy. Ludo always made him need one of these.

"Cornelius, I came to invite you to Christmas dinner with me and Nymphadora tomorrow!"

"Why ever did you get married to that atrocious girl?"

"Why, you ask? Cornelius, I fell in love!"

"Love! Ha! She's the only thing sillier than a Merry Christmas! Always changing her appearance, not good for security."

"Well, I think that though Christmas has never put a scrap of gold in my pocket, I say Christmas has done me good, and will do me good, and I say God bless it!"

"Well said, Ludo!" Arthur said, clapping.

"Weasley!"

"Sorry, sir."

"Oh, Cornelius, what rubbish this is. Please consider coming. Nymphadora's cooking!"

Fudge tried to suppress a smirk as he imagined Nymphadora Tonks handling a flaming hot stove. "How... nice."

There was another knock on the door.

"Oh, what now?" barked Fudge. "Hurry up!"

In walked two teenagers whom Fudge supposed were Hogwarts students. "What do you want?"

"Minister," the first boy said. "Me name is Seamus Finnegan, and this is me partner, Dean Thomas." Dean inclined his head. "We're here representing S.P.E.W."

"What the blazes is spew?"

"Pardon, sir, S.P.E.W. The Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare."

"...oh."

"Yes. We're here to talk to you about a donation."

"Donation? Boys, why a donation? Elves don't need money!"

"Hermione, tell me you got Dean and Seamus hooked on Spew?"

"Yeah Hermione, how much did you have to pay them?"

"Well maybe they'll be an example to the lot of you! Now shut up will you!"

"Sir, there are some elves that want paying and better working conditions! Days off, pensions, sick leave! They need love too! We work to convince the elves that these things are not evils, but something to make their miserable lives better."

"So in other words, your trying to change the ways of a system that has been the same since the middle ages?" snorted Fudge.

Hermione: ...

Dean and Seamus looked taken aback. "Please sir, just a sickle, or even a knut is one step closer to making a house elf happy and at peace with himself!" Dean said.

"Please. Elves are made to work. Nothing more."

"But some would rather die!" Seamus said.

"Well if they'd rather die then they better do it! It'll decrease the surplus elf population!"

"Oh, dear."

Ludo cleared his throat loudly. "Well, I'd better get going," he said hurriedly. "Er, see you tomorrow Cornelius?"

Fudge growled.

"Well, if you change your mind. Now, I will make my donation," he turned to the boys and put a single knut in their bag. "I know its not much, but..." Ludo looked awkward.

"Oh no, sir. Every little bit helps." Dean said.

Ludo tipped his hat. "Well, a Merry Christmas to all of you," he hung up a wreath on Fudge's door. "And a Happy New Year."

"Merry Christmas, Ludo," Arthur said.

Ludo bowed. "Same to you, Arthur. Same to you."

"Humbug!" Fudge shouted. He stalked back over to his desk and plopped down, ignoring the two boys.

Dean and Seamus looked at each other and walked slowly back up to Fudge. Seamus cleared his throat. "Now, sir, er, about the... er... d-donation?"

Fudge looked up. "GET OUT!"

Dean and Seamus jumped and bolted out of the door.

"Aye," Fudge said. "What's the world coming to, Weasley?"

"I... don't know sir." Arthur said, wondering if he was ever going to get the chance to ask for a day off.

All of a sudden, Arthur hear a muffled song coming from down below. Fudge must have heard it to, because he stomped over to the window of his office and wrenched it open.

There, standing directly beneath his window, and singing very loudly indeed, were two tiny house elves.

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly

fa la la la la la la la la!

'Tis the season to be jolly

fa la la la la la la la la!

Don we now our... gay... appa..."

The house elves seemed to stop mid-song, seeing the look on Fudge's now purple face.

"What the hell do you want?"

One of the elves sputtered. "Er, will sir give knut for a song? A knut for Dobby? And perhaps Winky?"

The other house elf, whom Arthur supposed was Winky threw herself down in the snow and started howling. "No money! No money for Winky! You is a bad elf, you is! Caroling for money! If master could see Winky now, oh the shame! The shame!"

The other elf, Dobby, simply smiled at Fudge. Fudge growled and slammed the window. He then went over to the door and grabbed the wreath Ludo had given him, and chucked it at the elves. Arthur heard them squeal.

"You work your hands off to make your money, and people want you to give it away!"

"Oh... yes sir. Indeed." Arthur started, taking his mind off the poor elves. He decided, though it seemed the worst time to do it, to ask Fudge for his day off. "Er, sir?" He asked.

"What?" Fudge responded sharply.

"Er, I was wondering, sir, tomorrow is Christmas Day and.. er... Perkins and I were wondering if maybe we could have, h-half a day off, sir?"

"Half a day? But, why?"

"Sir, it's Christmas. I need to be with my family."

"It's a poor excuse. However, it seems that you really...must. Come in half an hour later."

"But, sir, half an hour is not nearly enough time!"

"Weasley, Christmas is the busiest time of year for you! Idiots bewitching Christmas trees and presents, and goodness knows how many 'surprise' Christmas puddings will be set on Muggle Christmas-celebrating fools for sheer amusement!"

"Please, Minister. Think about it. December the twenty-fifth has been recorded as mishap-free for the past twelve years! It's been under control! Sir, you'll just be wasting your gold paying us to sit here! Doing nothing!"

The Minister considered a moment and put down his quill. "If something happens tomorrow, and you're not here, it'll be a hell of a chunk out of your pay."

Arthur hung his head. "Yes, sir."

"However, let us hope that does NOT happen." He paused. "Take the day off."

Arthur had to restrain himself from leaping into the air. "Oh, Minister, th-thank you so much! Molly will be so pleased!"

"Yeah, yeah, but be here only earlier the next day."

"Oh, you can count on me sir! A very Merry Christmas to you!"

"Bah! Humbug!"

Later that night, Fudge was still sitting in his office, going over paperwork. No matter, he thought. If I was home I'd just be sitting around anyway.

Then, something caught his eye at the other end of the room. He could have sworn that the doorknob on his great office door moved. He stared at it. It looked like just a doorknob from here. Humbug, he thought. Perhaps it was the dim light of the candle. Or the brandy.

He had just begun to bend his head to look at this papers again, when this time, he was certain that the doorknob moved. Or flashed. Or... something. He got up and walked slowly towards his door, a little nervous. He drew his wand out from his pin-striped robes and gasped as he came within a foot of the doorknob.

The doorknob had changed shape. It looked like... but it couldn't be...

"B-Barty Crouch?" Fudge squeaked.

"Fuuuuuuudge," the doorknob said.

"W-what the - ?"

But it left as soon as it had come. The doorknob was still a doorknob.

Fudge then heard something. Something coming toward the office doors from outside. He locked the door from the inside. "Go away!" he warned. "I'll, I'll call the Aurors!"

Clink, Clash, Clink, Clash, went the sound. Like chains rattling. They were coming closer. He raced back to his desk with a shiver, for his blazing, warm fire had just been mysteriously extinguished.

"Cornelius Fuuudge..." said a voice.

"What do y-you want with me?" Fudge whimpered. "G-go away!"

"Cornelius Fuuudge..." the voice repeated.

"Nooo!" Fudge said and ducked, for a silvery-white figure had just emerged through his presumably solid, locked doors. The figure was thin, tall, wearing a torn suit and long, heavy, loud, chains.

Fudge could feel the figure close to him. He jumped over his desk and crouched beneath it. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Cornelius, don't you recognize me? In life I was your partner, Barty Crouch."

Fudge had stopped shaking. He peaked his head over his desk. "Barty?" He said. "Is that really you?"

"In a manner of speaking," Crouch said.

"But, you, you're dead?" Fudge said, straightening up.

"Yeah. Murdered. Don't know who did it, though. Wasn't feeling right at the time."

"Oh, dear. S-sorry to hear about that. Er, w-what brings you here? A-and what's with the chains?"

"Ah, right. To business, Fudge. These chains. I formed these chains in life by my acts of evil."

"Evil? My dear Barty, you were never an evil person!"

"Fudge, I sent my own son to Azkaban. I was merciless and cruel to people during the times of You-Know-Who. I didn't give proper trials. I never heard people out. I was terrible to my house-elf!"

"Oh, well, Barty, that was just an elf."

"Nah, elves do get a very raw deal, now that I think about it. If I was alive, I'd try to pass some laws or something..."

Hermione:beams:

Ron and Harry:gape:

Fudge didn't say anything for a moment. "But, why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Fudge, you are currently forming your chains by your own acts of selfishness and utter pompousness!" Crouch looked at the pile of papers on his desk. "Sacking people at Christmastime?" he shook his head. "Fudge, Fudge. Treachery! You're chains will be longer than mine!"

"But, I don't want chains! Barty! Help me! I-I'm just doing my job!"

"You can be minister of magic without the nastiness though! Look at how you treat your employees!"

"But-but," Fudge sputtered.

"Now, we're giving you a chance to change yourself. Tonight you will be haunted by three spirits."

"Haunted? Oh Sages, I've already had enough haunting thank you very much! This is Dumbledore's doing, I know it is!"

Barty shook his head. "Expect the first ghost tonight when the bell tolls one."

"But, can't I meet them all at once and get it over with?"

"When the bell tolls one! Change, Cornelius Fudge. Change!"