Last year, the Christmas season in Hogwarts was very different from how it was celebrated before. For one thing, the Hogsmeade train was completely empty as it departed the town and headed for King's Cross in the first day of break. Not one of the students went home or even wanted to visit their family. Do you want to know why? Because they were all excited upon hearing that the staff had planned on holding a week of festivities starting on Christmas Day. However, the festivities were supposed to be only for a small crowd: the staff and students who have always celebrated the holidays in the castle. It only got to the rest of the student population when Professor Flitwick slipped, literally.
     After doing a fabulous job of commenting on the Slytherin and Hufflepuff match in early December, Professor Flitwick proceeded on descending from the top box and headed back to the castle. With only twelve steps remaining before reaching the bottom of the stairs, he slipped on a puddle of water that was innocently resting on the twelfth step, and fell. His fall reminded the onlookers of how a slinky would go down a flight of stairs. Forgetting that he has not removed the Sonorus spell on him yet, Professor Flitwick muttered a word as his head and his feet took turns hitting the steps, before he slumped on the ground floor. Professor Sprout and McGonagall were shrieking as they quickly helped him get up, whilst Dumbledore cast the Quietus spell on him before the Headmaster slapped his own forehead. Out of nowhere, a woman with a blue halo ran up to Professor Flitwick and threw a bouquet of flowers on his face before she stormed off. Gaping, Professor Flitwick looked around puzzled. Luckily, Professor Snape approached him and said, “Oy! Put no spaces in between.” The revered Potions Master then handed the Charms professor a small piece of parchment and majestically left the premises. Flitwick read the note, which stated, “The staff will be having a week of festivities starting Christmas Day.” Crumpling the paper, he looked around and noticed that the horrified expression on the onlookers’ face turned into an expression of interest. He began to scurry away; he hoped the students would not be bothering him in the days that would follow, and his colleagues would not be too aggravated of him. At that moment, he wished that he was smaller than everyone, although he already is. But the bomb he had unleashed made him the largest thing alive, to those who were unaware of the festivities anyway.
     The Trio was greatly affected by Professor Flitwick’s exposé, because they believed that staying at Hogwarts during Christmas was their thing. Harry would be acting like Hogwarts was his territory; he loved how all the elves were practically waiting for his every command. Hermione would be seen trailing most of the professors who stayed; she was practically waiting to be ordered by someone from the staff. And Ron would be stalking Hermione, practically waiting for her to get tired of waiting on professors so he could make a move. When Professor Flitwick blurted out the secret, the Trio had competition. Draco competed with Harry for the elves’ attention; Cho Chang competed with Hermione for the professors’ attention; and Ernie MacMillan competed with Ron on getting detention.
     “Why do you want to get detention on Christmas break? You R a prefect, for heaven’s sake!” asked Hermione to Ron on Christmas Eve. They were in the common room along with other Gryffindors, discussing preparations and speculations for the festivities the next day.
     Ron bellowed, “Well that’s my reason! Harry gets detention because he’s such a show off during the regular terms. Me, I have to be goody-goody at those times because I’m a prefect and I should be a role model. You know, I’m tired of not stepping over the line! I need to unleash my dark side too, and getting detention seems to be the only way. Filch stayed here because everyone else did not leave, so if I could only find a reason for him to give me detention, then I could beat Ernie and prove to myself that I can still be bad.”
     A portrait near the staircases interjected, “I’ll let you borrow my saber!” No one minded him though, the students did not understand why a person from a different fandom would have a portrait in their common room. Ron continued his grumbling, although in a hushed voice, “Plus, I know I would get your attention if ever I’m in a rough spot.”
     “Were you saying something, Ron?” Hermione asked. Before Ron could do something awkward, Lavender beat him to it. “Oh, I just love that Argus filch. During summer vacation, my family and I went to Bath. I saw him in a wizarding bar over there, he was the drummer of the local band. Talk about charming.”
     Everyone who heard Lavender’s story gave her a reproachful look. Parvati stood up and almost fainted, good thing she leaned on a couch or she would have fallen down. Then Ginny said, after shaking her head, “So that’s why I’ve seen you following him!”
     “Yeah, I admit. I have been trying to give him flowers as a sign of my admiration, but he thinks that the flowers are part of a prank, so he throws them away. Hmm, you know what Ron? I’ll help you get detention. It’ll be my chance to say to him that he’s my type.”
     Ron was half-smiling and half-wincing, but he was able to say yes. They depart the group to come up with a plan, as the rest fell silent. After a few minutes, Hermione blurted out after looking under the side table, “Where’s Harry?”
     A boy with a red halo replied, “He’s down in the kitchens having a meeting with Draco and the elves.”
     Hermione sighed in disgust and muttered Slave labor. Meanwhile, Neville stood up and pointed to the boy, “Who are you people?!”
     A girl carrying a football answered, “It’s impolite to point, y0! All of us playas with halos above our noggin’ are non-canon characters. We represent the dudes who should be in the book, but were dropped like it’s hot because of revising and editing. Hey, Herm! Catch this, a’ight?”
     The pass was short so Hermione had to dive forward to catch it. Cheers filled the room as she got up with the ball in her right hand. After dusting her jeans, she continued the explanation, “Yep, Neville. The girl who passed me the football is one of the unmentioned Gryffindor girls. The boy who informed us of Harry’s whereabouts is the Ben guy who was also in the PoA movie. And the lady who threw the bouquet on Flitwick the day he blabbed is his fiancé.”
     I see,” Neville said, and faced the non-canon people. “Well, just remember to always wear your halos. I’m becoming one of the main characters of the story now, hope no one from yous will steal my thunder.”
     “Believe me, I wouldn’t dare. I’m not willing to be potentially killed in the end.”
     The scene that followed was so intense, an abridged version would be better to describe it. The listeners all gasped after hearing the horrible words that came out of Ben’s mouth. Afterwards, a display of plates shattering, red wine spilling, food wasting, and table overturning occurred. Ben rushed out of the common room and was not seen in the GoF set anymore after that. A seventh year student performed the Cleaning Spell right after most of the students regained composure. A magicked broom was in the middle of its sweeping when Professor McGonagall suddenly appeared. Fearing the worst, the students all huddled up in a corner covering their faces with their hands. After what seemed like forever, Professor McGonagall said in a sweet voice, “Good job, Gryffindors. I never did like the idea of having that sixth Gryffindor third year in that movie. Seriously. I just hope you won’t be needing elves to clean here, or I’ll be taking back the fifty points I’m about to reward you.”
     The students collectively let out a sigh of relief and moved closer to the professor. The student who performed the Cleaning Spell felt too comfortable and threw his arm around the professor before asking, “So Minerva, care to tell us what’s in store for tomorrow?”
     “Well, if you really want to know, why don’t you behave like a courteous student first and unhand me!”
     The student acted as though he withdrew his arm from inside a fireplace. He exclaimed, “I regret nothing!” before climbing inside a vase with a yellow halo. The Transfiguration teacher then continued, “All I can say is five words. Day of the goldfish.”
     “But professor,” Dean uttered, “that’s only four words.”
     “Right. . . so I expect you believe in the myth that sour fruits could battle scurvy, eh?” replied the professor with her eyebrows raised.
     “Sour fruits have ascorbic acid, and we are way out of the topic, ma’am,” said Hermione.
     “Who needs ascorbic acid when you have Snape!” spoke Professor McGonagall.
     “Looking for me?” People turned their heads in the direction of the portrait hole. Resting his hands on the wall as if striking a pose was Professor Snape. He combed his hair using his hand and afterwards wiped it on a nearby tapestry, and then he magnificently walked towards the hearth of the room. As he moved in closer to the people in the room, a throng with green halos came to view, and they squeezed their way in the hole.”
     “Oy! Put no spaces in between!” barked Professor Snape to the group, which responded by forming a tight, cube-shaped formation. “There you go, good job. I suppose Pomona and Filius won’t be able to come in now.”
     Professor McGonagall poked the people up front with a stick, but not one of them budged. “You are right, Severus. This seems to be a tough blockade. Why don’t you want to see them anyway?”
     “Because they’re jealous that I have a non-canon fan club and they don’t. Who likes them better than me anyway?”
     Almost instantly, the Gryffindor students raised their hands while Hermione ran up to Professor McGonagall and snatched the stick. Professor Severus huffed, but calmly said, “Say whatever you want, you know I look good.” Then he saw a second year boy with his hand raised but the fingers were apart from each other. He commanded, “Oy! Put no spaces in between!” The boy quickly put his fingers together,”
     Seamus reacted, “You do look good, O Great Slimy One. Although our Head of House is better.”
     “Ah yes, I see were you’re getting at. She’s right here, so you all should be sucking up to her. But I think when she’s not around you all would think I’m the best Head of House, yes?” Snape said while repeatedly raising and lowering his eyebrows.
     “How dare you, Severus! You honestly believe you’re the top dog around here? You are wrong, mister. I’m the best Head of House Hogwarts has ever seen since I became a Head of House!”
     “No, you’re not.” Snape then blew a raspberry.
     “Why you! I hereby evilly challenge you to a dance-off!” McGonagall exclaimed, and the spectators gasped.
     “Mmmkay. I’m ready to take you on right now, you know. Got my groovy clothes underneath this robe.”
     Jeers, and giggles were heard as Snape began unbuttoning his robe. Before he was able to completely remove it from himself, the noise of falling bodies and groans of pain were heard. Finally, a squeaky voice emerged from the direction of Snape’s fan blockade. “Not so fast, Severus old pal. I shall be in the dance-off, too!”
     “And so am I!” exclaimed Professor Sprout, who was behind Professor Flitwick. “I’ll prove once and for all that I’m the best Head of House. Hufflepuff is always shunned by the other houses thinking that we’re not all that. But you know what? The best guys finish last.”
     “I contest, Pomona. It’s the late risers, slowpokes and too good for their own expense who finish last,” sneered Professor McGonagall.
     “Fine, fine. All four of us will be competing. Though not here, this is Gryffindor country. I’ll order the elves to set up a stage in the entrance hall. See you all there in a half hour-ish?”
     “I’ll be ready, Severus!” exclaimed Professor Flitwick as he ran off.
     “And so will I!” said Professor Sprout, dashing in the opposite direction.
     “I expect the lot of you to come cheer for me, would you?” Professor McGonagall asked the students in her house. Nods and applause answered her, which made her beam. She then faced the gorgeous Snape, “Remove your fanatics from my way, please thanks.”
     Snape harrumphed and clapped his hands, “Oy! Put no spaces in between!” The group slowly stood up and proceeded out of the portrait hole while trying to keep the tightly knitted formation they had when they first got in. As the back row of the formation exited the common room, a bowling ball came rolling in. Snape waited for the ball to hit a set of pins nearby before exiting, followed by Professor McGonagall and the Gryffindors.
     “That was some show, eh Hermione?” asked Neville. They stayed behind because the Cleaning Spell performed earlier didn’t get to finish what it was set out to do, because of the events that occurred. Neville and Hermione are the two most active members of S.P.E.W., so they believe it’s their mission to help the elves as much as possible.
     Hermione answered, “You are my new best friend!”
     Neville did not understand the inappropriateness of the answer, but still replied, “Thanks. . . I think.”
     After rearranging the chairs and the bowling pins, Neville said, “You almost done clearing up that table, Hermione? It seems like you’re taking forever with just that area.”
     Hermione replied, “Oh, you’re soooo cute! Yes, you are. Yes you are.”
     Neville quickly fixated his look on Hermione, who had her back on him. Neville slowly crept up to Hermione, who once again answered a reply from an unknown source, “Yes, let’s go down. That dance-off should be starting any minute.”
     She turned around as Neville was several inches from her, causing them both to yelp. Neville then looked at the object that Hermione was holding. It was the football, with Professor Mcgonagall’s stick puncturing it in the middle. Though the ball was still inflated, Hermione must had been quick in poking it, or maybe she magicked it.
     "Ah heh heh. Neville. . . um, yes. . . this is Lanny. Lanny, that’s Neville.” Hermione then hid the football on a stick behind her.
     "So that’s the thing U were talking to? Wow. . . Can I hold it?”
     “It’s him, Neville. Okay, just be careful. And please, don’t tell anyone, okay?”
     "Sure. Wanna make him S.P.E.W’s official mascot?”
     "A football on a stick is not elf-related, but okay! Now come on, the dance-off must be starting.”
     The two of them merrily skipped out of the common room and headed to the Entrance Hall. As for the events during the dance-off and the week of festivities, those will be revealed in due time.