A/N: This fanfic is sure to horrify many. The idea came to me when I was informed we had to do something christmas-y for one of the pages I admin ( 7horcruxes ) If you guys haven't liked them yet…do it NAO! Please and thank you! Anyways, back to where I was… The idea was based on something one of the other admins said (something about Santa. To which I replied, "I work for Santa") And voila! This story was born! I hope it doesn't mentally scar you too much!

"Santa," called a pretty little elf with long brown hair. She knocked on his bed chamber door.

"Yes?" the jolly old man answered, peering over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Ah, yes, Addy, my favorite little elf. Do come in!"

Addy swept forward through the doorway. In her hands, she held a roll of parchment. The sight of that parchment was enough to completely steal his attention and make him wish his bottoms weren't so tight.

"Have you got it, then?" Ol' Saint Nick asked the miniature-sized girl before him. He was practically shaking with excitement!

"Yes, sir," Addy replied, nodding. She handed the parchment to her boss. As he unraveled it, she said, "I've checked the list twice. Those are all the 'especially naughty' children-the ones that require...MORE than the standard lump of coal in their stockings. I hope you'll be pleased." She left the room unasked.

Santa merely glanced upon the list-complete with images of the children. "I think I'll save the best for last," he muttered to himself.

In the wee hours of Christmas Eve night, a small boy woke to the sounds of footsteps in his bedroom. Naturally, he was terrified, but after a moment he realized it was probably just his older twin brothers, Fred and George. He moved to flip on the lamp beside his bed, prepared to either tell them off or scream bloody murder for his mother.

"Fred, George, if that's you; I'm going to call for Mum!" He tried his best to sound braver than he was.

Light flooded the room as he twisted the tiny knob. It took a second for his eyes to adjust.

When he could see properly, he noticed that his brothers were not, in fact, his tormentor. No, there was a strange man in his room.

"Who are you?" Ron sputtered, wishing his mum would come to check on him like she always did.

As the man laughed and laughed, his massive tummy shook like-well, like a bowl full of jelly.

Ron was unsure of why his brain made that connection. Sure, the man DID remind him of Santa Claus-his beard was white and his suit was red, as per usual. But what would Santa be doing in his room?

"You know who I am, Ronald."

Ron simply nodded, now in awe. 'I bet Santa didn't visit Fred and George's bedroom!'

"I've come to bring you your surprise, Ronnie. You like surprises, don't you?"

Ron perked up. "Yes! Where's my surprise? Let me at it!"

His energy roused another of Santa's belly-rumbling laugh-among other things. He sat upon the small boy's bed, the springs groaning under his weight. "It's in the sack, dear boy. Just reach your hand in and pull out the first thing your fingers touch."

Ron pulled the sack towards him. He leaned forward, nearly falling off his bed as his arm sank deeply into the burgundy bag.

At first, he didn't feel a single thing. He rooted his arm around more. And then, it was there. The thing his fingers rested upon was warm. It had...hair. Before he could even react and pull the thing out, he felt himself being sucked into the bag.

"Wha-What's going on?" he cried.

"Shh, it will all be over soon." Santa brushed a strand of hair from the ginger's forehead before he disappeared inside the bag.

"Excellent," he whispered, and set off to the next child's house.

(Definitely read that excellent as Monty burns would. he was my inspiration XD)

Santa landed upon the roof of a very quiet house. He slid down the chimney and snuck through the darkened rooms, in search of his bequest.

He found the boy asleep in his bed.

"Mm, Neville, you look positively scrumptious!" Santa whispered, taking care not to wake the plump boy. "I must have you for my collection!"

With a bit of effort, Neville ended up in Santa's sack as well, alongside Ron, Fred and George, and Seamus Finnigan-who had attempted to set a trap for the jolly old man, only to end up getting caught himself

"Draco? Draaaaaco?"

"Father? Is that you?" The small boy flipped his light switch. He was shocked to find that it wasn't his father, but a strange-looking fat man that woke him.

"Who are you?" he asked as he stood. His face scrunched up in disgust. He wondered if the man was a Muggle. And were he a Muggle, well then Draco's father would DEFINATELY have to hear about that!

"I am Santa. Haven't you ever heard of Santa?"

Draco shook his head. His parents didn't believe in letting Muggles influence his life, for fear that he would, one day, bring one home.

"Sit down, child. Let me tell you a tale."

Draco sat on the edge of his bed-already decked out in Slytherin Green, though Hogwarts was still years away.

"Santa was one a jolly old man. He would bring toys to all the good little boys and girls, all over the world. But Santa had a secret...He had an insatiable, er; let's just call it an appetite. All was well and fine until Mrs. Clause walked in to find her husband in bed with his most favorite elf-a slightly little thing named Charlie. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to say. She packed her things and left the very same day. Santa fell into a deep depression. His elves tried everything they could think of. Then, one fateful day, a small boy wandered his way into the North Pole. Santa perked up at the sight of him, completely snapping out of his slump. It was then the elves knew the key to keeping their beloved boss happy. They began to make plans to replace the lump of coal for naughty children to something far worse. Santa instructed his elves to chain the poor boy in the lowest part of the workshop. Sadly, the boy grew too old for Santa's taste, and he had to let him go. From that day on, Santa began searching for children of suitable ages to bring back to the North Pole for a year...or five."

Draco had a horrified look about his face. "And you're Santa?" he managed.

"Yes, I am, indeed. And you, dear boy, are going to have to come with me." He forced the struggling blonde into his now-full sack.

Ron was the first boy Draco could see. "Red hair? And hand-me-down pajamas? You must be a Weasley!"

"Shut it, Malfoy," replied the terrified boy.

"You can't leave me in here, Santa! Please! I'll go willingly!"

"I don't believe a word, Draco. You'll stay inside with the others."

"My father will hear about this!"

The last but was muffled for Santa had already closed the sack.

"I can't wait for Santa to visit, Mother!" exclaimed the blondest boy ever. His mother smiled while his father frowned deeply.

"Stori, would you give me a moment with our son?" Draco watched her go before turning back to his son.

"Now, Scorpius, Santa is someone you should fear! Not someone you should be excited for! You see, when I was young-"

"Ah, Draco, my boy! How long has it been? Twenty-five years?" The cursed fat man entered Scorpius's room.

"Santa!" Scor exclaimed, hopping off his bed. He ran to the jolly old man, to hug him, but he was sucked inside Santa's sack before he got the chance.

"Not my boy!" Draco shouted. It was no use-Santa was gone before he finished.

Astoria rushed into the room. "Draco? Where's Scorpius? Where's our son?"

"He took him," Draco cried, in a shocked state. He slowly slid to the floor.

"Who, Draco? Who?" Astoria was worried to say the least!

"Santa," Draco whispered.

Astoria just stared at her husband, wondering if a call to St. Mungo's was in order.

Santa dropped his sack on the floor in his "dungeon." He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Wingardeum Leviosa."

Boy after boy floated out of the over-stuffed sack, moving to the wall where they were instantly chained.

When he was done, his hands flew to his beard. He pulled it from his face to reveal pale skin and an oddly shaped nose-for a man. Glossy black hair cascaded around his sunken cheek bones.

No one would have suspected that he, Michael Jackson, was really Santa.

...Only he wasn't!

His hands once again made to remove something. And just like that...he became she.

Phoenix Fyre studied the boys she had stolen with great interest.

"Oh, Addy!" she called. The elf came running.

"Yes, Mrs. WizardGoddess?"

"I have a present for you." She pointed at the wall where a certain boy was chained.

"For me? Really? You shouldn't have!" Addy slinked closer to her prize-otherwise known as Freddie, or Fred Weasley II.

"Anything for my favorite elf."