Auntie Muriel’s Coming for Christmas

By Rose Weasley

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“Auntie Muriel’s coming for Christmas!” Hugo says with glee.

He’s only four, he doesn’t know how awful it will be.

I’m six. I remember the Christmas he was one.

When Auntie came to stay with us, and ruined all the fun.

Toys picked up and put away to make room for Auntie’s case.

Always told, “Quiet, please! She’s not used to a noisy place.”

Auntie makes you fetch her teacup, and she’s always drinking tea.

Says, “You’re too big for picking up. Now you should carry me!”

She can’t read Christmas stories. The Muggle print is far too small.

She doesn’t want to play outside, doesn’t like playing much at all.

No bed, no toys, no play, no fun. I could tell my brother of doom.

But then I have a better thought.

I say, “This time she gets your room.”