Rubies and emeralds line the halls,
Glinting brightly as their curtain calls.
Remind me why we continuously gaze,
Engulfed in their ridiculous seasonal haze.
The trimming, the bells, the fairytales,
The gift of snow turning to hail.
The annoying cheers that are repeated,
Make my burning anger even more heated.
Retelling of the old story of Christmas,
One of the things that make my ears rust.
Stars and cookies and ugly sweaters,
Who comes up with this crap each December?
The reindeer rides are infuriating,
The music is overly nauseating.
All the fruitcake and gingerbread,
I'd rather be in a coma instead.
I try each morning to look my best,
To stand out from all the rest.
The frost making my appearance instead,
Turning my nose an embarrassing bright red.
A white blanket covers my soul,
How I wish black stained it whole.
Release me from this holy Hell,
So I may return to my desolate shell.
And thus, my pleas have been ignored,
But you have found something to settle the score.
Although I despise Christmas each year,
Your evergreen eyes remind me there's more to what's here.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You sure your not coming, Harry?" Hermione asked, poking her fuzzy head outside the train window. Harry stood on the station platform, his hands in his pockets.
"I'm sure. You and Ron need some alone time, and he needs to be with his family. He was with them only two months after the war ended. I don't want to butt in." Harry explained. Ron's ginger head shoved itself next to Hermione's, crushing the two heads together against the edges of the window.
"You're not butting in, mate. Mum really adores you. You're a member of our family and you know it." Ron pleaded. Harry smiled.
"I know, but you guys need this time alone. Even if I did come, you two would be shagging each other so much, it's as if I wasn't even there." Hermione laughed into her hand, Ron's eyes going wide.
"Wait, what?" The train whistle blew, the wheels starting to turn. Harry raised his hand, waving as the blushing faces of his friends passed by slowly. He continued waving, waiting until the smoke disappeared from view. Harry turned on his heels, starting his short journey back to the castle.
Christmas holidays. They seemed to have arrived faster than usual. At least Harry thought so. He loved the holidays. The ability to be alone and do as he pleased without anyone peering over his shoulder, questioning his every move. He was the only Gryffindor in his year for this holiday, probably in the entire school. Having the dorm to himself was something he was looking forward to.
Harry stepped inside the large oak doors, an abandoned foyer greeting him with barely a whisper. The Bloody Baren floated by silently as he muttered to himself, giving him an acknowledging nod before floating up into the stone ceiling. Harry smiled, making his way down the brightly decorated halls to his dorms, laughing with the occasional glittery fairy leaving a pine tree to hug his finger. The fairies seemed to have taken a fancy for him, for some odd reason. They tried to tell him why, but their voices only came as soft, tiny bells to his ears. Even so, he thanked them. When he did, the beings' faces seemed to brighten as they flew back into the trees, illuminating the pine's branches nicely.
Harry walked up the many stairs, feeling content as he did. Like the world was perfect. He approached the Fat Lady, the woman dressed in a long, billowing ball gown.
"Ello, Harry dear! Are you not leaving for the holidays again?" she asked sweetly.
"Not this year, my Lady. I'm staying." Harry replied.
"Well, Headmistress McGanogall has asked me and the other house portraits that the dorms are being moved here for the winter holidays, so the other houses are present inside as well. Only ten students are here, almost one from each year, and Gryffindor has the closest dorms to the Great Hall." the Fat Lady informed. "The pass is Stardust."
"Really? Stardust, I guess." Harry said, his voice filled with disappointment over his wishes for a quiet three weeks.
"Oh, Harry dear!" the lady called, Harry retreating his foot from the air. "Please don't be too mad with the current dorm arrangement. I told the Headmistress it was a horrible idea, but she wouldn't listen to reasoning if it stared her in the face."
Harry scrunched his eyebrows downward. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Harry dear. Go on inside." Harry nodded slowly, stepping inside the portrait hole, the common room holding eight people. They surrounded the fire, seeming to get along quite nicely.
Three Ravenclaws, third and seventh years, sat together on the couch, each of them inspecting the bright colors of Griffindor. Three Hufflepuffs, second, fourth, and sixth years, huddled closer to the fire, keeping each other warm. They were taking to a second year Slytherin, who was making himself seem even more superior than he ought to be. The students looked in Harry's direction, smiling and waving happily.
"Hi, Harry." the Cho Chang welcomed, smiling sweetly at the brunette.
"Hi Cho, everyone." Harry gazed around the group, counting silently to himself. "There are supposed to be ten of us. Isn't someone missing?"
"He's upstairs in the seventh year boys dorms." the Slytherin said. Harry smiled, walking toward the staircase.
"Harry." The brunette turned his head, Cho giving him a sympathetic face. "Good luck."
"Um... thank you, I think?" Harry said, walking up the spiraling stairs. His heart rate seemed to heighten. Who was in his dorm? Why would anyone think he'd be upset? It it was Zabini, he was going to punch someone. Or be sick. Or faint. No, he wouldn't faint, he'd be venerable. He'd punch something.
Harry turned the door knob, slowly creaking the door open. A man, about a head taller than he was, was casually laying on Nevile's bed, parchment and a Self Inking quill in his hand. The man had his suitcase at the foot of the bed, his shoes and socks removed. He had a dress shirt untucked from his pants. Platinum blonde hair was shining in the light. The man looked up revealing smoky silver eyes. The signature smirk he sported was more than burned forever into Harry's memory.
Much, much worse than Zabini...
"You lost, Potter? The train left, you know. I knew you were daft, but this just raised your ignorance bar."