Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the home,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a gnome.
The wooly stockings were hung by the chimney with ease,
So everyone hoped Charlie would not sneeze.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar dragons danced in their heads
And Mama in her ‘kerchief and Pa in his cap,
Had settled the twins’ brains that they would have a long winter’s nap.
When out on the roof arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a fly
I went so fast I thought I’d die.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the objects down there a very curious glow.
And then, to my wide blue eyes would appear,
A miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a guy as the driver, a bit lively and quick,
I really hoped that it’d be St. Nick.
More rapid than brooms, his reindeer they came,
And he attempted to whistle and call them by name:
“Now, Dasher, now Dancer!
Now Prancer and Vixen!
Er, Comet! Hey Cupid!
C’mon, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the roof!
Hey, don’t hit the wall!
Let’s go! Dash away!
Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
So up to the house top those crazy reindeer flew,
With a sleigh of red, and St. Nick too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
A slip, then a curse, and then a poof!
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
My Pa stood there, and fell to the ground.
He was dressed in the fur, from head to foot,
And his clothes were tarnished with ashes and soot.
And muttering how he had thrown out his back,
He looked like St. Nick- hit with a rack.
His eyes- wow, they twinkled! He must have been learning for weeks,
And that cherry-like nose and rosy cheeks.
His mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And in haste he spat out some snow.
Part of his wand he held in his teeth,
And it was smoking, going around like a wreath.
He looked perfect, without any flaw,
But I knew right away he was really my Pa.
I stood there mesmerized, just like an elf,
I stared at him and stared, in spite of myself.
But with a smile on his face and a hug with an arm,
I knew ol’ Pa had meant no harm.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And filled everyone’s stockings, even Percy the jerk.
And giving a small squeeze to my long freckled nose,
My dad gave a nod, and up the chimney he rose.
He went back to the sleigh, and gave the hippogriffs a whistle,
And away they flew, until Pa hit a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he cursed the dark night,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
A Weasley Christmas by PadfootnPeeves
Chapter Notes: I don't own Harry Potter or the original poem. Again, this is told from Ron's POV form when I like to think he is young. Many thanks to my beta, Katie616, who is absolutely wonderful. Enjoy!