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December 1st
Dear Diary,
I’ve discovered the most fascinating bit of muggle lore. Apparently if one contacts a certain rotund, jolly, man with atrocious fashion sense and altogether too much facial hair, he will grant you a wish. It seems like magic must be involved, however it is a pervasive truth within their culture and the MoM doesn’t appear to be concerned with the Statute being broken. Hermione has assured me this is no myth and she wouldn’t lie to me, she’s too pure. Such a Gryffindor.
So, Diary, I’m going to attempt it. If this single muggle can grant the wishes of toddlers and children, surely he can assist me in realizing my dream. I shan’t write my wish here, it seem like that might jinx it.
I shall follow up with my progress.
Regards,
DLM
December 3rd
Dear Diary,
I’ve managed to suss out key bits of information from Hermione. All it cost was a dinner for two at that little Italian bistro in Hogsmeade for her and Theo. Somehow they think they got the better end of the deal. The pair was quite smug, giggling even! But what’s 100 galleons when I’m gaining invaluable information to contact this mystery muggle.
Apparently his true name is Kristopher Kringle. Strange name to be sure, but it should aid me in locating his whereabouts. According to Hermione, the less well informed refer to him as a “Sandy Claws”. I thought she was pulling my leg but she assured me of this truth. Maybe part of his strategy is to scare people away from requesting wishes with his giant claws. I wonder if they are poisonous. Do they fall off and can he regrow these claws? Maybe they could be used in a potion of some sort.
Forgive my tangent, Diary. The scholar inside got the better of me for a moment. Back to the task at hand.
Now that I know this muggles name, I need to find his location and how to contact him. It will be a difficult journey, Diary, but I am determined.
My wish shall be granted this Yule.
Regards,
DLM
December 5th,
Dear Diary,
I’ve done extensive research these past few days. Unsurprisingly, the Hogwarts library hasn’t a single mention of Mr. Kringle (I’ve decided to refer to him as such out of respect for his poisonous claws). It seems my source material for research must be the remaining muggleborn and half blood population here at school. Granted, the number has dwindled after the last handful of years, last year in particular, but there’s still a fair amount.
I shall ask
that handsome rogue
Harry after charms today, he might know something. However I must be discreet, he mustn't suspect my intentions.
Regards,
DLM
December 6th,
Dear Diary,
That bloody pillock laughed at me! How dare he, I’ve never been more mortified in my entire existence. Hermione smacked him on my behalf, they all know I’m not allowed to commit any physical acts of violence this year.
All I’d done was ask of his experience with Mr. Kringle and his
sparkling emerald eyes and handsome face
ugly mug broke apart in apparent glee. He HOWLED with laughter, Diary. Howled. Theo and Ron ushered him away and Hermione assured me his response was induced by trauma. She is always telling me that trauma expresses itself in odd ways, like Luna has taken up fencing or how Pansy suddenly started knitting little outfits for all the castle’s house elves. Apparently
my future husband
Harry didn’t ever receive any wishes from Mr. Kringle, and it hurt him very deeply.
If I do manage to track down this elusive muggle, maybe I will be able to convince him to satisfy a Yule wish for Harry as well. Maybe.
Regards,
DLM
December 15th,
Dear Diary,
After a week of no progress in locating Mr. Kringle, I’ve had a breakthrough! I’d been discussing my plight with Luna over a bit of light sparring with our sabres when none other than Justin Finch-Flethcly stoll past. He rudely scoffed and shouted “try sending an owl to the North Pole, Malfoy!” and continued on his way.
I’m not sure if he was being truthful, but given the fact that Yule is a mere 10 days away, I haven’t a second longer to waste. I’ve written a letter outlining my desire and reasoning why Mr. Kringle should grant me said wish. Off to the owlery to see which hearty beast will be willing to fly to the arctic.
Regards,
DLM
December 16th,
Dear Diary,
That saucy minx Hermione was holding out on me! Apparently she knew how to contact Mr. Kringle this entire time. She questioned the validity of my wish (she’d gotten it out of me after an evening of too much firewhisky) and felt I needed to “prove my dedication and intention to the project” before aiding me further.
Lucky thing though, I’d run into her on my stroll to the owlery when she made her confession. She was quite shocked I’d been able to uncover the location and preferred method of contact for Mr. Kringle. Apparently she’s sending her own missive to the wish-granter and offered to send both of our letters together, rather than dooming two owls to the flight.
So Diary, now we wait.
Regards,
DLM
December 24th,
Dear Diary,
I am not optimistic. Hermione assures me the letters arrived safely to Mr. Kringle, and that if I was sincere in my intention my wish was sure to be granted. She said it takes “faith and patience”, full well knowing I have neither.
I shall drown my anxiety in firewhisky laced hot chocolate and wait for the morning to arrive.
Regards,
DLM
December 25th,
Dear Diary,
He’s real, he’s real! Sandy Claws is a real, living breathing poisonous wish-granting miracle of a muggle! I’m not sure how he did it, but my wish was granted!
I awoke this morning slightly hungover from the copious amounts of alcohol consumed, intent on curing myself with a plate of fluffy eggs, toast and a large cup of tea. As I was sitting in the great hall at the 8th year's table, it happened.
He strode up to me with that determined look in his eyes I love so much, yanked me out of my seat by the lapels of my silk dressing gown and granted me the gift of the most earth shattering kiss I’ve ever experienced.
Harry kissed me. Harry likes me. Harry wants to BE with me.
I shall forevermore be indebted to Mr. Kringle, his kindness and generosity.
I won’t be writing for a while, Diary, but don’t be concerned. I’ll be in safe hands.
Regards,
DLM-P
Ps: I’ve already planned out my next Yule wish. Can you guess it?
December 24th, in the 8th year common room:
“Harry, do you have a moment?”
“Sure Hermione, what’s up?”
“I’m not sure if I should give this to you or not, but something’s telling me I should. Read it. If I’ve made a mistake and it doesn’t…impact you…the way I think it will, please don’t say anything to Draco. It would kill him.”
“Sure Hermione, of course. I’d never want to hurt Draco”
“That’s what I’m hoping for, Harry.”
Draco’s letter to Santa:
Dear Mr. Kringle,
I am not good. I am not pure. I am flawed. I am selfish. I am needy. I am judgmental. I am rude.
I am also loving to those who love me. I am generous to those who are mine. I am fiercely protective of those I care for.
I have done terrible things in my short life and I do not deserve to have you grant my wish, but I plead with you to do so anyway.
July 31st, 1991 I met the love of my life. I just didn't know it yet. Over the subsequent 8 years, I’ve grown to admire his determination, kindness, and inherent goodness. I know he’s not perfect, he’s got a temper and hates following the rules and will do whatever he wants if he thinks it’s the right thing to do. I love him for who he is, not what the rest of our world sees him as.
I am not brave. I cannot simply approach him with this, after our tumultuous history, though we are on good terms now. I need a wish granted, a miracle, if you will.
If Harry Potter cares for me the way that I care for him, please bring us together. If he does not, please cure me of this attachment. I cannot go another hour, day or week not knowing and living in a constant state of uncertainty.
Your humble servant.
Draco Lucius Malfoy