The girl looked around the dormitory, her eyes flickering over the familiar furniture.
She was sitting on her bed, a magnificent four-poster, filled with books and charts.
She knew that downstairs, her two best friends in the world were having fun, kissing their girlfriends, trying out their birthday presents.
Friends and friends, though.
They hadn't spoken to her for weeks.
Not because of some silly fight or stupid quarrel, - no, it seemed like they just had...forgotten her.
They were busy, both of them, she knew that.
No time for a bushyhaired know-it-all.
But they could at least speak to her!
She didn't have anyone else here!
No one to talk to when loneliness sung it's bitter song, and life was black hole of despair.
No one to sit with her through those lonely nights of studying.
Did they even know that her parents were divorced?
Did they know that she got sleeping potions, just to have one night without nightmares?
Not that they cared.
No one ever cared.
The bitterness.
She slowly opened her fisted hand, and looked down at it.
In her palm lay some small, white pills.
A bittersweet smile played her lips.
A single tear ran down her cheek, before she swallowed them all.
"Merry Christmas."
~~*~~
The boy's grin was so big and shiny, one could almost think it was fake.
Which of course, it was.
How could anyone smile with those thoughts he had?
After the Christmas Day dinner was over, instead of following his friends to their house, he ran to the toilet. He made sure no one else was there, made sure no one would see him.
He could feel that weird and uncomfortable feeling in his stummock, like Cornish Pixies were having a fight in there.
The familiar dizziness, and the taste of blood in his mouth.
The wave of nausea hit him like a rock.
He made a small squeak, and ran into one of the stalls.
He clung to the toilet, his eyes closed, determined not to see, smell or hear it.
Damn this!
After flushing the toilet, he sank down at the floor, leaning his head at the wall.
He couldn't hold it back anymore.
He was soon shaking, sobbing, crying silent tears.
Removing a silvery bang of hair from his face, he had only one thought in his mind.
Why him?
And all this, just because of one try.
The despair.
He didn't know how long he sat there, but when the clock far away struck eleven, he got to his feet. As he was about to walk out of the room, he shot a longing look out of the window.
He had always wanted to fly...
~~*~~
The teachers lounge was deserted; nothing else could be expected on Christmas Eve.
Only the thin, tired-looking man was sitting there.
He stared down at the old photo.
His friends waved and beamed at him, all happy, all carefree.
God, how young they had been.
Live dangerous, die young and make a nice corpse, one of them once had said.
He had no idea what he was talking about, the man thought bitterly.
And the others had laughed at his joke, before they had continued chasing the baby dragon through the woods. After all, life was a game.
The memories.
The man sniffed.
Two betrayed and killed.
One died a traitors death.
One worse than dead; a dementors kiss had seen to that.
He knew that even though that was years ago, even though the game had stopped, they were all playing, only now, in heaven.
Oh, how his body ached to join them!
He closed his eyes, and drank his last zip of wine on this earth.
~~*~~
The elderly witch walked slowly down the street.
It was freezing, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around her.
She knew she didn't have to walk, but she wanted to.
All around, the Christmas spirit was showing.
Through the wonderful decorated windows, she could see happy families, children trying out their new toy-broomsticks, youngsters kissing under the mistletoe.
Everything around was decorated; the streets, the houses, yes, even the little bridge she now was walking over.
Halfway over her, she stopped, and gazed down at the lake below.
So silent, so beautiful.
The reflection of the new moon was shown at it, and silvery lights of pixies flying by played the lake. The banks were all covered with white snow, and she wondered what magic protected the lake from freezing over.
Over at the other bank, at the lawn in front of the castle, a black-haired boy with a lightning-shaped scar, kissed a redheaded girl.
The old witch smiled bitterly, and her eyes were filled with tears by the lovely scene.
Lovers.
As she watched, another redhead, this one a boy, emerged from the castle's front doors.
he just stood there, and when the two others broke apart, he went over to them.
Family.
Friends.
Something the witch never had had herself.
The loneliness.
She looked down at the lake again.
The mermaids were singing tonight.
When she was little, she had been warned never to let herself be charmed by the beautiful song, because the lake was deeper than one could measure.
But it was so wonderful, so sad.
A sadness came over her, and she could do nothing but cry.
Like she had done so many times before.
With a slow motion, she loot her long, black hair down from its severe bun.
She carefully removed her glasses.
She stepped forward, and as she felt the cold water, she knew she didn't have to be alone again.
~~*~~
And as the clock struck twelve, and Christmas Present became Christmas Past, four souls closed the door to this earth, this life, knowing they didn't have to suffer anymore.
A/N: If you can tell who the characters are, a brownie point you'll get.