Ho Ho Ho, Dumbledore, and a Mistletoe, What exactly does Albus do for Christmas? Options

[lupinsmyman]

Christmas is literaly around the corner. Icicles are hanging, trees are lit, and the students at Hogwarts have gone home for the holidays.

But what is our favorite headmaster up to? What is in Albus Dumbledore's stocking this year?

Posting a little bit at a time (no specific amount, just as long as other ferrets get a share.) write a little Dumbledore holiday spirit.

Story line must include:
Mistletoe
"Ho ho ho"
A gift for the Headmaster
O.W.L. results

Off you go!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

[McGonagall's Cat]

Albus Dumbledore, the best Headmaster Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ever had, paced from the stone fireplace to the cabinet on the far side of his office, and back again. While this was nothing unusual, as he frequently paced while contemplating profound concepts, today was a bit different. Christmas dinner was tomorrow, an event he looked forward to every year, but he was still pondering the perfect gifts for two of his Staff-members and time was getting extremely short. He could cast a Spell that would discern the desires of each of them, but he liked to congratulate himself on knowing those he saw in the castle most days, and not having to resort to such measures.

In the past he had tried delegating this responsibility to others who had the inclination to assist, with, at best, mediocre results. In 1957 he'd asked Minerva. She had complied in her usual excellently efficient style, giving each of the personnel a fine magical abacus. While these are quite useful on a practical level, the members who regularly used such instruments tended to already have one, and those who didn't use them had no need for one. On the whole the Staff was polite, but Albus knew it had been a faux pas.

There was also the disastrous year that Hagrid had helped. Where he had obtained an Erumpent in the middle of the winter, this far north, the Headmaster had never discovered. As the poor beast, festooned in garlands of red, green and gold, grandly pulled the over-laden cart into the Great Hall, Mrs. Norris began spitting and hissing in horror. Looking like a Halloween cat, her tail at least as big around as a regulation Beater's Bat, and for reasons buried deep in the feline mentality, she attacked. As the events replayed themselves in his mind, Albus chuckled. Tables flying helter skelter, the barrel of rum on the back of the cart rolling like a juggernaut, scattering everyone in its path until it finally smashed against a wall. The Erumpent's horn exploding, catching the decorations on fire, which quickly spread to the spilled rum flowing across the floor.

"Actually," he mused, "It was quite entertaining."

Still, there was the problem of this year. Two more gifts, only twelve more hours. He clasped his hands behind his back and made another lap around the office.