Scrounger couldn't sleep, which was understandable, given what he'd just experienced. The sceptic in him kept on telling him that it was impossible. Spirits do not exist. That was not Scrimper and you will not be visited by more apparitions. That was what he kept on telling himself, over and over in his mind. But even so, it is hard to deny what happens in front of one's own eyes, and so Scrounger found himself waiting for the stated time. He was lying in his bed, one eye on the nearby clock, watching as the minute hand slowly made it's way towards the predicted hour. If Scrimper was to be believed, the first of these visiting spirits would be arriving soon. And so he waited with baited breath as the clock rolled ever onwards. One minute. Then two. Then three. And then finally, the hour struck midnight. Scrounger could hear through the walls of his building that the great clock far away began to ring also. One O'clock was here.

But as he looked around, he saw nothing. No ghosts or spirits to speak to him. And for a moment, he felt a degree of relief. Perhaps it was all a hallucination after all? That feeling was fleeting however, as all of a sudden, a near-blinding flash of light began at the foot of his bed. Sitting upright in an instant, Scrounger shielded his eyes from the bright light. After a few moments however, it died down, and the old stallion was given the opportunity to get a better look at what was causing it. To his surprise, what now stood before him was not a grim ghost as Scrimper had been, but rather what appeared to be a flesh and blood unicorn filly. Her fur was a bright white and her mane a combination of pink and purple. Her horn was aglow, the same colour as candle-flame. And her large green eyes kept watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.

Eventually, he did so, as he fumbled his words slightly before finally addressing this new visitor.

"Are...are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?"

The filly nodded.

"I am."

Scrounger looked at her with an expression of clear confusion, as he began to make his way out of bed, still wearing his cap.

"But you're just a child!"

The filly narrowed her eyes at that, looking more than a little annoyed.

"Hey! I'm more than nineteen-hundred years old, Mister! I'm the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Past!"

Not wanting to offend this spirit, Scrounger cleared his throat a little before speaking again, albeit in a more gentle tone this time.

"Why did you come here?"

The young filly smiled a little at that before pointing.

"Well, I was told you were in trouble and that I should help."

Scrounger narrowed his eyes.

"Help? I assure you, spirit, that if I were given a night's unbroken rest, I would have no trouble."

The filly scoffed at that before turning away from him.

"Well, I've got stuff to do, so let's get on with it already!"

Scrounger let out a sigh. He knew at this point that arguing with creatures from beyond was probably a wasted effort on his part, so he instead began to walk towards her, ready to go wherever she had planned for him. However, his attention was drawn to his window, as he saw the young unicorn use her magic to open it up. A look of worry passed his face as he looked down at her.

"Spirit...I don't know if you're aware...but mortals like myself have a habit of falling when we go out of windows."

The spirit looked at him and giggled a little.

"Silly! Touch my hoof and you'll fly!"

Needless to say, Scrounger was more than a little wary of that, but nevertheless did as he was told, reaching out and grabbing hold of the filly's offered hoof. When he did this however, he was taken aback as he felt a great tug as the child leapt up and out of the window, with him in tow. Immediately, Scrounger closed his eyes tightly, waiting to feel the impact of the ground below. But when it didn't come, he slowly opened them, only to be greeted by an impossible sight. As the spirit had promised, he was indeed flying, far above the city he called home. He looked down, seeing the great distance between him and the ground, as well as the many tall buildings beneath him. It was, to be sure, an incredible experience to say the least, and while Scrounger was the most serious of stallions under normal circumstances, even he couldn't help but feel somewhat excited by this experience.

As the flight continued however, his attention was drawn to what lay in front of him. It couldn't be, he told himself, but there was no question the light of dawn in the distance. However, he began to notice something strange alongside it. It was another impossible sight, but there, arriving with the dawn, was countryside. Trees and fields and tiny cottages abound, rather than the busy streets and cold skyscrapers of Manehattan. He'd have asked what was going on, but a new sensation began to grip him. A feeling of familiarity. He knew this place. In fact, he was sure he knew this place very well. He did not have time to dwell on it however, as the spirit, and him alongside her, began to make their descent towards the ground. In mere moments, the two had landed, their hooves pressing deep into the blanket of snow that covered the landscape. A few minutes passed, and Scrounger kept his gaze upon the tiny collection of homes before him, until a look of realisation crossed his face.

"I...I know this place. I was born here. I never thought to see it again."

He opened his mouth to speak further, but was interrupted by the loud sound of ringing bells. Spinning around, he looked upon what was unmistakeably a school, albeit a very old and traditional-looking one. That same sense of familiarity came to him as he began to take a few steps towards it.

"My old school. I remember it well, spirit. The lessons. The teachers. I chose my future in this place."

The small spirit walked beside him and looked up into his eyes, stretching out a hoof before speaking.

"Those colts and fillies over there. Do you know them?"

Scrounger turned to see where she was pointing to, and a look of shock came to him. There were indeed a collection of young colts and fillies, just outside the school grounds. They were playing happily with themselves, throwing snowballs and such. Scrounger felt a great deal of nostalgia over this. He knew their names, every one of them, from his many years at this school. To see them again, just as they were when he first parted ways with him, was quite an experience to say the least. But this feeling was short-lived as a certain memory came to mind, and his expression became more serious. Turning from the young ponies, he looked up at the school once more before walking towards it.

"There is one from this school who is not playing alongside them, spirit."

Scrounger and the spirit walked together towards the school, entering it with ease before making their way along the hallways. Scrounger, even after all these past years had come and gone, knew this place like the back of his hoof, and so it wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. A classroom, filled with all the blackboards and chalks and stacks of books you'd expect such a room to have. But that didn't concern Scrounger right now, as his eyes focused instead on the room's sole occupant. It was a colt, small for his age, with his nose pressed up against the window, looking out at the playing youngsters below, with a look of sadness upon his face. Scrounger's own expression softened considerably when he looked upon the child, taking a few steps towards him before he heard the voice of the spirit once more.

"That colt...he's you, isn't he?"

The old stallion nodded solemnly at that before speaking up.

"Yes. I...I was often alone. I always kept myself busy with more schoolwork, even during the holidays."

The small spirit looked up at him with some confusion.

"You didn't go home to your family like the other students?"

Scrounger's expression became more stern after hearing that.

"No. My...my father and I...didn't get along."

The young filly opened her mouth to say something about that, but thought better of it. Instead, she simply began her work, waving her hoof across the scene before her, which, to Scrounger's surprise, began to change what was happening. The room grew older in appearance, as did the colt. The years were passing in this one place, and Scrounger was watching his childhood play out before him. What was difficult to ignore however, was the fact that the young colt remained here, alone, with every passing year. Scrounger's face became a look of regret as he considered this fact, though he constantly steeled himself anew whenever the thought arose. Eventually, the spirit stopped her work, and the two reached a point in time when Scrounger was then a grown stallion, about to leave the school. Much like his future self, the younger version had a somewhat stoic look, albeit far less aggressive than it would one day become. That look changed though when a voice could then be heard.

"Scrounger!"

The younger Scrounger turned, as did the older one, and both of them looked on with a smile as a young filly came into the room, galloping forward and embracing the younger in a big hug.

"Oh brother! It's been so long!"

The young Scrounger knelt down to further embrace his sister, before speaking in a soft tone.

"It's good to see you too, Tulip. Your visit is as good a Hearth's Warming gift as I could hope to gain."

The excited filly stepped back from her brother with a big smile on her face.

"That's not all! Father says you can come home this year! He's so much nicer than he used to be. We can be together for Hearth's Warming Eve! Isn't that wonderful?"

The young Scrounger gained a look of disbelief upon his face, before it slowly became one of happiness, as he lowered his head and affectionately nuzzled his little sister.

"I would like that, Tulip. I really would."

The future version of Scrounger looked upon this union, specifically at the filly, with great nostalgia in his heart. It was brief, but he felt more comfort in this sight than he had done in years. He didn't even bother turning to look as the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Past stood beside him.

"She was special, wasn't she?"

Scrounger nodded at that.

"Yes...she was."

The filly looked up at him after that, hearing the melancholy in his voice.

"But...she's no longer with you...is she?"

The stallion shook his head.

"No. She...she died in childbirth. My nephew, Prancer, is all I have left of her now."

The filly nodded.

"Do you get along with him?"

Scrounger’s eyes narrowed.

"No. Every time I look at him, I see the only member of my family I ever loved, and am reminded every time that she was taken from me. I have pushed him away many times because of this."

A look of regret passed his face once more.

"Though...perhaps that was a great error on my part."

The spirit nodded at that before deciding to herself that perhaps now was the best time to continue their journey through this stallion's past. With another wave of her hoof, the scene changed once more, and this time the entire location was morphing before Scrounger's eyes. Suddenly, they were outside, in the cold, looking upon what looked like a factory of some sort. The sun had long since set and there was yet more snow falling. But Scrounger was not concerned with all that, as a look of utter shock now covered his face.

"I know this place! I was an apprentice here! My first employer, Jolly, was the kindest stallion you could ever hope to work for."

As if on cue, the front doors of the factory burst open, revealing a rather portly-looking unicorn stallion stepping outside. Although he had a wide smile upon his face, the thing anypony would notice first is that fact that he had a clearly-fake toupee on his head. Scrounger's face lit up when he saw him.

"And there's the stallion himself! Ha! I almost forgot how ridiculous that carpet on his head was. We used to call him "Fuzzy Wig" behind his back. Ah, good times!"

The former employer looked around at several of the mares and stallion walking about the area outside his factory before inviting them inside. Realising what this meant, Scrounger smiled a little before following them, making his way within the old building. And sure enough, there were massive celebrations abound within. Streamers, balloons, every party treat one could imagine. And there were ponies of all walks of life gathered here to dance together. Scrounger remembered it well, though he never thought himself one for dances himself. Looking around, he remembered all those familiar faces, how he once worked alongside them. How happy his employer always was. A look of sadness crossed him once again as it began to dawn on him just how different a person he became from the stallion he once worked for.

But that all changed as he looked upon yet another familiar face. It was himself, again from the past. Older and wearing a sensible-looking suit, he was smiling with all the rest of them in this place, albeit not joining them on the dance floor. Scrounger chuckled to himself as he saw his younger face, remembering how there was once a time when he actually enjoyed this kind of celebration, to the point where he would actually look forward to the holidays. However, as he watched his younger self begin to make his way towards the buffet table, he saw him stopped when he accidentally bumped into another pony. It took only a few moments for the young stallion to compose himself, but when he saw who he'd collided with, his jaw hung open with sheer shock.

The older Scrounger also reacted in a similar fashion, as both felt the same thing. That the mare who stood before them was the most beautiful pony they had ever laid eyes on. She was a pegasus, very slender and possessed of a chestnut-coloured mane. Her eyes were a sparkling green and her face bore a number of adorable freckles. As the mare too tried to compose herself after the collision, she saw the gaping mouth of the young stallion before her, leading to her giggling somewhat. The young Scrounger, cleared his throat nervously before smiling a little, offering his hoof to her.

"Oh, I er...I'm terribly sorry but..."

But he was prevented from finishing by the mare, who placed a hoof upon his lips before speaking.

"Would you...care to join me on the dance floor?"

The stallion looked around nervously at the other dancers before turning back to her. He knew this was an opportunity he'd regret for the rest of his life if he didn't take it. So, smiling back to her, he took her hoof in his and began to lead her onto the floor. As the two walked together, the older stallion let out a sigh, all while the small spirit beside him looked up at him with sadness.

"This wasn't the last Hearth's Warming Eve you'd spend together...was it?"

He knew exactly what she meant by that, though it brought him no joy to actually speak an answer to her. Instead, he simply gave a grim nod, knowing full well what was coming. And come it did, for the tiny filly waved her hoof yet again, changing the scene before them. Now, Scrounger found himself in the most familiar place of all, his counting house. Every inch of it was exactly the same as when he left it mere hours ago. But he knew that this was not today he was seeing, but many years ago, for the stallion sat behind his desk was himself. No longer carrying the coltish good looks he once had, his face had aged considerably, as evidenced by the grey hairs that had cropped up in his mane. But it was who sat opposite him that caught Scrounger's eyes this time. It was that same mare, also older than when he last saw her, looking upon the stallion with sadness and regret.

"When we last spoke...you said thing would change. Tell me, Scrounger...have they?"

The stallion, who had lost much of the happiness his younger self once possessed, looked upon the mare in a stern fashion.

"Tender Heart, things aren’t easy. The business isn't picking up like it should be. Once profits are up, maybe then we can talk about marriage."

Tender looked down with no small amount of remorse in her eyes.

"That's what you said last year...and the year before that."

The younger Scrounger narrowed his eyes at that.

"Do you think life is easy? If one ceases to work for better, then they go lower. My work is important to me. Securing my future is important to me."

Tender looked up at him.

"What about OUR future? Is there no thought for that? What...what happened to you, Scrounger? When did work and bits become so important that you made them a higher priority than...than others?"

Scrounger got up from his seat and turned to the window, his eyes bearing a look of anger.

"There will be no more talk of this, Tender!"

Scrounger didn't turn to look, but heard her get up and make her way towards the door, opening it. When she spoke next, he heard the great sadness in her voice.

"No...there won't be."

It took only a moment for Scrounger to realise the message behind those words, as he turned immediately to see her leave, closing the door hard behind her. He moved forward to stop her, but knew deep down that there would be little point. She was gone now, and he knew that. There was only one thing he had now, and that was carrying on with what he'd been doing before. Work. So, letting out one final sigh, he sat down on his desk and began looking at his precious numbers, all while his future self looked on, feeling more and more hatred for himself and his actions with every passing moment. He practically choked on every breath as he witnessed the scene before him, turning to the spirit with tears growing in his eyes.

"Spirit...why do you show me these things? Why do you torture me with my mistakes?"

The young spirit looked at him angrily.

"These things have already happened. Don't blame me for how they turned out."

The stallion turned away angrily at her.

"Just...leave me."

He shut his eyes tightly, wanting all of this to go away. He hated it. All of it. The mistakes that led him to be so lonely. The fact that he failed to live up to the example of those who taught and apprenticed him. The loss of those most important to him. He hated all of it. He felt nothing now but pain, and wanted nothing more than to just go back. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and realised that this is exactly what he had been given. No longer was he in his counting house of old, but his own room.

The spirit had gone, and he was alone. Just as he always was.