How The Dark Lord Stole Christmas
Twas the eve before Christmas; in a land of yore
awoke the dark lord, and man, he was sore!
None of his plans ever seemed to go right
but that would all change, on this very night.
So as quick as a flash he sat up in bed
and formulated a plan that danced in his head.
Nothing meant more to the orphan boy
than a house full of friends spreading Christmas joy:
He would steal all the gifts that were stashed in the burrow,
and all of those fools would be filled with sorrow!
You-know-who was giddy as a fairy;
finally, he had a way to beat Harry!
Away with his wand and his dastardly plan
the stealing of Christmas finally began
He stole all the presents, and packages too,
all the broomsticks and droobles best chew.
He blasted the food, he tore down the tree,
he burned all the wreaths and chuckled with glee!
He tried to make not a sound, held his breath in the air
but of course Ronald Weasley should have a nightmare.
The ginger screamed and ran through the hall
at the sight of ol' Voldy, he began to bawl!
"Where are you going with our cookies and toys?"
"Oh, I'm just...here to repair them, my boy!
These cookies are old, they aren't any good,
and this broomstick doesn't fly as well as it should."
"Oh, okay," said the young little Ronnie
but wait, down the stairs came his good friend Hermonnie!
"What are you doing Ronald?" the bushy-haired witch asked.
"And why on earth does Santa have on a mask?
Wait! That's no Santa!" cried the young night troll.
She quickly smacked him on the head with a candy-filled bowl
Voldemort cursed as he held his bleeding head,
And moments later, the Dark Lord was dead!
"MERLIN'S PANTS, YOU KILLED SANTA!" Harry cried from the doorway,
as he took in the scene that was really quite gory.
"No, Harry!" the witch protested. "It's not what you think!"
As Harry looked further, in the truth began to sink.
It had finally happened, his opponent was dead!
No long would his dreams be met with dread!
So they tied up his body and shoved it under the tree
It would make a fabulous present for their pal Buckbeak.
Now the trio was tired, so they trotted off to bed
with no more worries hovering over their heads.
Whispering to each other in the shadow of the night
they pondered what Christmas would truly be like
With the dark lord defeated; so prevailed the light
all would be well, and all would be right.