A very, very long time ago, even before your grandparents' parents were young, there was a wizard who cared deeply for poor children, either in money or love, or a combination of the two. He himself as a child hadn't had much in both of these categories. He was alone in almost every way, living on the streets from a young age, and despite the fact that he eventually managed to make a home for himself, by that time the childhood joys of Christmas had passed him by, and he was twenty-five years old. It was simply too late for him to have the things he'd been denied as a boy; the hope he had missed out on as a child was evident, and while that chance had long passed, he felt that perhaps there was something that could be done still, not for him, but for other children.

It was the year that he decided this that he created the Order of Christmas, an organization that would one day span across the whole world, with many different men - young and old - taking up the mantle in their countries. But before all that, at the humble beginning of his journey, when the Order of Christmas was only composed of him, he sold everything he had and left for a remote part of Britain, hidden away with spells and magic where he could set up the operation. He crept into the homes of rich wizards and witches to speak with their house elves, asking of them one thing: That they use their spare time to help him in creating gifts for children that would not otherwise get any on Christmas. They were to be little things, so small they mightn't be noticed by others, but to a child would mean something. And one by one, Elves agreed, working in secret all over Britain whenever they had a chance, creating and finding little toys or books for the unloved, the poor, the alone.

It was the start of what would be the best kept secret of Christmas, hidden from adult witches and wizards by the belief that it was they who played Father Christmas each year. But to boys and girls who had no gifts addressed to them on Christmas, it was he, Father Christmas who showed them love. The operation grew, and house elves came to live at his workshop permanently, where they could devote their working lives to giving.

Of course, all good things end, and so when he was very old, the man stepped down. But it was only his time that was finished, because before he stepped down he passed the red coat along to another deemed worthy, and the cycle repeated, all the way up until today.

Today's Father Christmas is old, as the world expects, but he wasn't always that way. He started a long time ago, and so he remembers many little boys and girls, always keeping his eyes open for the ones that have grown up, hoping that they are loved and looked after, for he cannot give them gifts past them coming of age. The magic that lets him inside their homes doesn't work any longer than that. And unfortunately it's only the magical children he can find, but he knows well that this is better than nothing. The magic that the children of witches and wizards have is a special kind of magic, the more powerful the more someone believes, and that allows him to find them.

He cares deeply for all of his lost children, even when they grow up. He suspects he isn't supposed to have favourites, but there are some he is more fond of than others. A young boy named Harry Potter is one of the children right now that he pays very close attention to, and while the child has never seen him when he has crept into that little cupboard in the dark of night, there is more belief in that boy's heart than Father Christmas has felt for a very long time. Of course, Harry isn't the only one that has crept into his book of favourites. There is a grown man he remembers well as a boy. That boy was one of the few that Father Christmas was ever seen by. And while Father Christmas suspects Severus Snape may have convinced himself he only imagined it, it really doesn't matter, for everything is about to change this Christmas Eve. They just don't know it yet.