Merry Christmas from Hogwarts, McCoven! Holly jolly and all that.
I wrote and performed this as an e-Christmas card, and you guys most certainly deserve a card. Enjoy!
A Wizarding Christmas (via bluemax1119)
Read along below, if you'd like.
A Wizarding Christmas
by David Leisk
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the castle
Not a creature was stirring, from Hedwig to house-elf.
The stockings Leviosa'd, hung by the tree's star;
The boggart Ridikkulus'd back to its armoire.
Those students not home nestled snug in their beds
While visions of corridors danced in one's head.
The cat Mrs. Norris purred in old Filch's lap;
All mischief was managed on the Marauders' Map.
Then from the Room of Requirement there arose such a clatter,
Myrtle moaned from her toilet to see what's the matter.
Up to the ceiling she flew with a flush,
Her curiosity piqued for new gossip to gush.
She emerged in the hallway, where her pearlescent glow
Cast an eerie half-light on the proceedings below;
For what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But a flying Ford Anglia filled with Death Eaters
And a pale thin driver, such a cold individdle,
She knew in a moment it must be Tom Riddle.
"The Vanishing Cabinet," he icily hissed,
"Can't handle a car, you bumbling twits!
Bellatrix! Lucius! Goyle! MacNair!
Dolohov, Yaxley, Crabbe and Rosier!
To Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff Halls!
Now dash away, dash away, 'til you feel my call!"
Then from the wrecked Anglia Death Eaters poured,
Each anxious to avoid letting down the Dark Lord.
Not one, though, to Gryffindor Tower did flee,
As Voldy had told 'em, "Leave Potter to me!"
Through the Fat Lady's portrait Myrtle did dash
But saw to her horror green flames in the ash.
Before she could move, out strode from the Floo
The frightening figure of old You-Know-Who.
He was hairless and scaled from his scalp to his toe;
His color of skin the white of the snow.
'Pon his shoulder he carried a great bulging sack-
Like Mundungus he looked, from robbery just back.
His phoenix-core wand twitched in his grip
His malicious smile danced on his lip.
His crimson eyes flashed from vertical pupils
His demeanor was regal, with no hint of scruples.
The tales of terror of Slytherin's Heir
Impedimentia'd Myrtle like Basilisk stare.
He emitted an aura that glowed so e-velly,
She shook where she stood as if cursed by legs jelly.
He was august and eldritch, a right mighty old mage;
The cruelest of creatures in at least an age.
So she was even more shocked when he dumped out his presents
And sang out a carol in a voice rather pleasant.
Each sleeping student from Mudblood to pure
Had presents awaiting- he double-checked to be sure.
He said, "Albus and I may have our wee tiffs,
But none should awake without any gifts."
He pressed his tattoo, his team jumped in the car,
They shot over the castle a Christmas-tree Mark.
His voice echoed back as the Ford disappeared,
"Hoggy Christmas to all, and I'll get you next year!"