"Who are you? And why are you in the Ravenclaw common room?!"
After finishing the Gryffindor deliveries, Santa rode his sleigh to the Ravenclaw common room and slipped inside.
Unlike Gryffindor, he was immediately confronted by the Grey Lady—the resident ghost of Ravenclaw Tower.
"Oh, don't be alarmed, child. I'm simply Santa Claus, here to bring joy and surprises to children."
Santa smiled and held up his empty hands to show he meant no harm.
"—I hope that's true. Either way, if you don't want Dumbledore coming after you, I suggest you leave quickly. We don't welcome intruders here. Even if you are just a golem."
After issuing that brief warning, the Grey Lady turned away and drifted back toward her usual corner, where a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood. She had been staring at it for centuries.
Under normal circumstances, Santa would have left her alone. There were still many gifts to deliver. But the wish-collection device the Weasley twins had secretly installed kicked in at that moment.
Santa paused mid-step and turned back to face her.
"Child, I can see that you're praying too. You're longing for redemption. As Santa Claus, it's my duty on Christmas to bring blessings to every good child. I will grant your wish."
"Child?"
The Grey Lady blinked, the corner of her mouth twitching.
She didn't mind being told she looked young—most women didn't—but being called "child" by this thing felt a little excessive.
She might not have been as old as Hogwarts itself, but she was close. Who did this golem think it was?
"Of course you're a child," Santa replied, still smiling kindly. "By my standards, you most certainly are."
The Grey Lady fell silent for a moment.
Technically… he wasn't wrong. If this really was Saint Nicholas, active between 270 and 346 AD, then yes—she was practically a toddler in comparison.
Which alchemist made this golem? It was surprisingly well-mannered.
She snorted internally but kept her tone cold. "Hah. Are you sure I even qualify for a Christmas gift? Forget the fact that I'm a witch—do I really strike you as a well-behaved child?"
Her mood soured instantly.
It was her jealousy that had kept her from seeing her mother one last time.
It was her pride and rebellion that had driven the Bloody Baron to take his own life.
It was her recklessness that had turned her mother's precious diadem into that disgusting, cursed thing.
Just thinking about it made her lose all interest in continuing the conversation.
"Enough. Since you're here, Dumbledore clearly knows about you. Finish delivering your gifts and leave the Ravenclaw common room. Ravenclaw welcomes all guests—as long as they come through the front door."
"Perhaps you made many mistakes in the past," Santa said gently, "but you've recognized them now, haven't you?"
He could feel the heavy weight of her guilt—guilt over stealing her mother's diadem, guilt over her arrogance and ignorance, guilt over being deceived by Voldemort's honeyed words.
"Christmas may have originally been meant to celebrate the birth of Jesus," he continued, "but now it has become a symbol of love, acceptance, and redemption. Making mistakes isn't terrifying. Being deceived wasn't your fault. Since everything happened, you are no longer the person you once were. You are someone kind, someone who longs for redemption. Anyone with a good heart who seeks redemption deserves to be loved—and deserves a Christmas gift from me."
The Grey Lady lowered her head in silence, listening to that voice that seemed to see straight through every secret she had kept for centuries.
After a long moment, she looked up again, her expression carefully composed.
"Listen. I don't know who programmed those words into you, but I'll tell you this—reading someone's mind without permission is not the behavior of a gentleman."
She paused, then added with a hint of challenge, "But if you can actually do what you claim… then go ahead. I'd like to see what kind of Christmas gift could possibly move me."
"Please don't doubt Santa Claus. He will always bring you exactly what you desire most. But first, allow me to finish delivering the other children's gifts."
Santa gave her a small, respectful bow, then turned and walked deeper into the dormitories.
Back in Tom's shop, everyone watching the scene unfold had very strange expressions on their faces.
"Tom," Dumbledore said slowly, "did you teach it to say those things?"
[Absolutely not!]
Tom denied it immediately.
[I'm just a regular cat! How the hell would a cat know how to say something that profound?!]
If this were an exam, maybe. But as a retired cat who spent most of his time causing chaos? No chance.
"Then why—"
Dumbledore turned to Nicolas, hoping the master alchemist had answers.
"Don't look at me. My own butler can do similar things, but I can guarantee Tom didn't use that kind of programming on this golem."
Nicolas waved his hands quickly. He looked even more shocked than Dumbledore.
His own golem could manage something like this because it had lived with him for centuries. He had manually programmed countless scenarios and responses into it over the years. But Tom's Santa?
Nicolas had been present for the entire creation process. Tom had never added any contingency programming for unexpected situations.
Could it be because of the device the Weasley twins added?
No… that device shouldn't have been capable of this either.
Nicolas was completely lost. He was supposed to be the only master alchemist in the room, yet right now he felt like a confused first-year student.
"By the way," Ariana suddenly spoke up, "what exactly is the Grey Lady's wish? I barely ever see her around."
"I'm not sure either," Dumbledore admitted, shaking his head. "Those ghosts were already here when I was still a student. I've never pried into their personal matters. Usually they don't hide much from me either. But the Grey Lady… now that I think about it, she used to appear more often when I was a professor. After I became headmaster, she started showing up less and less."
Dumbledore frowned slightly. He hadn't realized until now just how rarely she left the Ravenclaw common room these days.
"I get the feeling she's carrying something heavy," Ariana murmured, watching the distant ghost.
[Whatever her secret is, we'll find out soon enough,] Tom cut in. [Santa Mark I already said he's going to bring her the one gift she wants most.]
[Shame George and Fred aren't here to see this.]
"They couldn't wait to go check their own presents," Ariana said with a small laugh.
Santa worked fast. It didn't take long before it returned to the Grey Lady, looking slightly traumatized.
"Whew. Are all the students in your house this… intense?"
Unlike the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws who were still awake had reacted very differently when they saw Santa. While they were happy, their first instinct wasn't to ask for autographs or photos.
Their first instinct was to capture Santa and figure out where the gifts were coming from.
The older students who realized he was a golem had immediately started thinking about how to take him apart and study him.
"Ravenclaw has always been the house most hungry for knowledge," the Grey Lady said with rare pride. "Studying the unknown is simply our tradition."
She looked at Santa. "So? Where's the gift you promised me?"
"Not yet," Santa replied with a chuckle. "It isn't here. I need to go fetch it first."
"?!"
The Grey Lady's heart clenched.
This golem… it couldn't possibly mean—
No. Impossible. It had to be bluffing.
Only she and that bastard from back then knew where the diadem was hidden. There was no way this thing could know its location.
And even if it did, that wasn't what she truly wanted!
She forced her expression back to calm, though a trace of displeasure slipped through.
"If you can actually do it, then try."
In her mind, whoever was controlling this golem had the same goal Voldemort once had—to get their hands on Ravenclaw's diadem.
What she didn't expect was for Santa to simply nod.
"Of course. Please wait a moment."
It turned and retraced its path, climbed back onto the sleigh, flicked the reins, and vanished.
"?!"
Everyone watching—Tom included—was stunned.
"Where the hell is that?" Ariana asked, confused. Even McGonagall, who should have known every room in the castle as deputy headmistress, looked bewildered.
She had been working here for years and had never known this place existed.
Tom, drawing on his vague memories, had already guessed. And once he realized where it was, he also knew exactly what was inside.
[You've got to be kidding me… Did I accidentally make Santa Mark I into some kind of conceptual god?!]
"This should be the Room of Requirement," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
He had never been inside, but he knew the legends. Even when he was a student, rumors about the Room of Requirement had circulated. He only confirmed its existence after becoming headmaster and learning all of Hogwarts' secrets.
"But what is it doing there?"
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Santa stepped off the sleigh and looked around the cluttered room. Its gaze soon landed on a delicate, ancient silver tiara resting atop a pile of junk—Ravenclaw's Diadem.
Santa calmly walked over, picked it up, then frowned slightly. After a moment of thought, it carried the diadem back to the sleigh and reached into its gift sack.
When its hand came out, it was holding a feather duster.
"…Is that Ravenclaw's diadem? What is it doing?"
Even Dumbledore looked puzzled.
Tom, however, already knew exactly what was about to happen. He covered his eyes with both paws, though the gaps between his fingers were comically large.
Santa began dusting the diadem.
A thick, black, smoky substance slowly seeped out of the metal.
Dumbledore and Ariana's expressions gradually turned strange.
Tom just looked like someone watching a train wreck he had seen coming from a mile away.
Because that black smoke… was a fragment of Voldemort's soul.
The same kind they had seen not long ago.
"That should do it."
Santa casually pulled the soul fragment out of the diadem and tossed it aside like trash. It looked at the now-clean diadem with satisfaction, then climbed back onto the sleigh and returned to Helena.
"Here. This is the gift prepared for a good child."
"Exactly. Although I don't know how you—wait. This diadem… that filthy presence inside it is gone?!"
Because the golem had taken matters into its own hands, three very different people found themselves thrown into complete chaos:
Helena Ravenclaw.
Albus Dumbledore.
And the fragment of Voldemort's soul that had just been rudely evicted from its hiding place.
Wait.
This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go.