Sending You a Little Christmas, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: The seniors preformed this song at the Christmas concert at my school and I fell in love with it. I came up with this though much later after I heard it. I felt as though with all the running around and Christmas shopping and gimmie this and gimmie that that goes on during Christmas we all needed a little reminder of the true meaning of what Christmas is all about. The orginal song was written by Jim Brickman and preformed by Kristy Starling for the American soldiers spending Christmas in Iraq this Christmas, somthing I feel I had to accknowledge.

It was almost midnight on Christmas Eve and every little girl and boy around the world both naughty and nice were tucked away in their soft, warm beds anxiously awaiting the arrival of old Saint Nick himself. Everyone that was, except for one little boy who was still very much wide awake. He was sitting up in his his tiny bed in his tiny room in the little cupboard under the stairs of his aunt and uncles' home. He was a very small, underfed boy with messy jet black hair, glasses, emerald eyes and lightening bolt shaped cut on his forehead. He quietly opened the door to his small bedroom and peeked out. Everything was quiet and it looked as though his uncle and aunt had finally gone to bed. He carefully opened the door, stopping every time he heard a squeal in the hinges in case his aunt and uncle should hear him, which would have been bad news for him, until at last the door was finally opened wide enough for him to barely slip though. He crept timidly down the hallway, pausing at the sound of grunting from his uncle upstairs and continuing at a last past the lavishly decorated Christmas tree and toward a nearby window. He first set his parcel, a small cardboard box filled with a variety of leftover Christmas things the Dursley's hadn't wanted, onto the window sill and then sidled himself up onto the window sill after it.

The boy, seven year old Harry Potter, took a second look over at the Dursley Christmas tree. It was packed with all sorts of gifts of every shape, color and size and anyone who did not know any better would have thought that there were enough presents under that tree to satisfy both the Dursley boy and Harry ten times over but that wasn't exactly how it world. Harry was neglected by his aunt and uncle, who preferred to spoil their only biological child Dudley Dursley, rather than spend a cent on Harry. Harry looked down at the cardboard box again and decided to take one last look to see if everything was there. It was a Christmas present for his father and mother, both who had died in a car accident according to his aunt, leaving Harry behind.

He pulled out a large assortment of gifts among them were his only photograph of his parents he had out of the box. The photograph was of him as a baby with his parents six Christmas's ago under thier Christmas tree. All of them were smiling up at Harry, their faces frozen forever in time, a warm soft blanket that the Dursleys had thrown away because it had a small hole in it. Harry was sure that his parents wouldn't mind, it was better than freezing out there in that ice cold snow, a paper angel he'd made himself; not much of a Christmas tree angel, but he was sure that his parents would like it, and a drawing he'd made of Santa Claus in bright colored red and black crayon that were broken that he'd found in an abandoned crayon box in between the seats in the couch. Harry had put a lot of thought into drawing it; he'd want it to look perfect for his parents. He wasn't an artist however but it was probably the best drawing he could ever remember doing.

A photograph, a blanket
Some mistletoe, confetti snow
An angel to put on a tree.
Santa Claus in crayon,
To make you smile today;
While you're so far away.

Harry looked out of the window for a moment to check if Father Christmas had arrived yet but all seemed clear. The stars were twinkling in the dark, chilly night sky. He wondered if anyone else was thinking about his mum and dad on Christmas Eve, surly he couldn't be the only one…could he? He set the gifts back down into the box and turned his head back to the window. He was wondering if his parents could see him sitting all alone on Christmas Eve. He was wondering if they missed him as much as he missed them.

So I'm sending you a little Christmas,
Wrapped up with love.
A little peace, a little light,
To remind you of
How I'm waiting for you, praying for you
I wanted you to see.
So I'm sending you a little Christmas,
Till you come home to me.

Harry returned his attentions to the box again and pulled out another Christmas item he'd snatched for his parents. It was a gingerbread man with red frosting, peppermint eyes, a chocolate chip nose and gumdrop buttons; the only gingerbread cookie he'd been allowed to make and he'd wanted to send it to his parents rather then eat it himself. Suddenly Harry's stomach began to rumble and he swallowed, the Dursleys hadn't fed him any dinner because he'd accidentally made his aunt's ladle float at the dinner table. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know how he'd done it, he just had. He shoved the gingerbread man back into the box again as to not be tempted to eat it. Harry couldn't understand why strange things always occurred when he was around and most of the time whenever they happened Harry was punished most severely. Most of the time Harry just figured it was some kind of disease that he had; but a small part of him had always told him otherwise. Harry wondered if his parents would hate him if they had lived to find out about his weird disease.

A broken candy cane was also tucked into the box, the Dursleys had allowed him to have it after Dudley had accidentally sat on it and refused to eat afterward. Surely it would still taste good anyway considering that the package hadn't ripped.

The last two things he had tucked in the box were two stockings. They were very old and looked like the kind that you would find at a dollar store. Not very majestic, but Harry was certain that his parents wouldn't mind. He'd taken a red marker and written Mum on the stocking with an angel on it and Dad on the stocking with a reindeer on it, that way they could tell which one was theirs. Harry had stuffed the stockings with all manors of things that he thought his parents might like. For example in his mother's stocking he'd put a pretty gold necklace with a broken chain. In his father's stocking he'd put an old scarf of his uncle's; it was very tarnished and looked as though it had been patched up a few times. His uncle never wore it though, so surely he wouldn't mind if Harry took it for his father right?

Some gingerbread, a candy cane
A stocking I made with your name.
I filled it with your favorite things.
A way to say I love you,
Like kisses through the air
Hoping you'll feel me there.

Harry replaced all of the gifts and pulled out at last from a red ribbon, perhaps the best thing in the box in Harry's opinion, and a red crayon. He scribbled down on the box as best he could.

To: Mum and Dad, From: Harry, Sending you a little Christmas until you come home to me.

Harry looked examined the sentence, it seemed to explain everything well enough for him. His handwriting was terrible though and he hoped that his parents could read.

Harry set the box down beside him when suddenly he heard something stirring in the house. Fearing it might be his uncle, Harry sat perfectly still hoping that if he couldn't hear Harry, than he wouldn't notice him. The moments ticked away slowly because if his uncle or aunt caught him up this late, he'd be stuck in his cupboard for a whole other month without food again. As he sat there, frozen in fear, wishing that his parents were there beside him, telling him it would be alright.

Home-into these arms of mine.

Home, where you belong.

At last the stirring stopped and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, it had only been a mouse or something of the like. He looked out of the window; one of the stars was winking at him from outside. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them and for a moment he could almost feel the warm embrace of his parents' arms as he sat alone that cold Christmas Eve. It was almost as if they were there with him now. But it only lasted a second and soon that feeling of warmth and serenity was gone. Harry sighed; there was no escape for him from the horrible truth no matter how hard he tried.

Home, till you come home, to me

"Santa," said Harry to the window sill. "If you can hear me, I just want to let you know that all I want for Christmas is for my Mum and Dad to see this Christmas present so that they can know that I still care about them and that I love them and that I think about them a lot. And also Santa if you could, could you tell them that I said Happy Christmas and that I'm still waiting for them? Harry yawned, he was growing sleepy, he didn't even think for a second about what would happen to him if the Dursleys caught him out here in the late of night as he leaned his head up against the window sill, closed his eyes and fell fast asleep, hugging the box close to his chest.

In the corner of the room another person had been watching Harry. He was a large, white bearded man in a red suit and black boots with watery blue eyes. Tears of sadness were falling from them. Part of him couldn't understand it. This poor boy had so little and was treated so badly, who was sad, but not for himself, rather his deceased parents. It was a small reminder to him in the busy season of Christmas filled with all the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers and decorations that the greatest gift that anyone could give was love. The white bearded man walked over to the boy, very swiftly and quietly for a man of his size, and picked him up. He was shocked for the boy was very light for someone of his age. He walked over to the little cupboard under the stairs and laid Harry down in his bed, took the boy's glasses off and pulled the blankets over him. He dug down into his big red coat and pulled out a letter and a small gift. He laid them beside Harry's bed and quietly slipped the cardboard box away from Harry's fingers. He gave Harry a small kiss on the cheek, climbed out of the cupboard with a bit of difficulty and with a small pop vanished into thin air.

oOo

The next morning Harry awoke a bit shocked to find himself in his little bed under the cupboard. He decided he'd best start making breakfast before his aunt and uncle came in and started rapping on his door again. He yawned and reached over to get his glasses when suddenly he felt his hand close over something else. He pulled it up and examined it as best he could without his glasses. It was a box wrapped in red wrapping paper; on the tag it was written: To: Harry, From: Santa. Harry reached down and grabbed his glasses he couldn't believe it, a Christmas present, an actual Christmas present, for him. He looked over the side of his bed again and noticed a cream envelope with his name written on it in curly red writing. Harry opened it with trembling fingers as carefully as he could so that he wouldn't wreck the envelope and took out a letter written in identical red curly writing.

Dear Harry,

I wrote to tell you that I saw what you did last night. I had almost forgotten what Christmas was all about had it not been for what I you do last night. I admire you for your ability to set all of your own worries aside to worry about someone else. You reminded me that the greatest give that anyone can give cannot be wrapped up in wrapping paper, or put in a box. It does not come in the form of an object or a toy, but in the form of a feeling. You reminded me of something that I almost long forgotten; you reminded me that the greatest give that can be given is love.

Your parents enjoyed the gifts that you sent them and they say that they miss you very much. They are very sorry that they cannot spend Christmas with you and would give anything for the chance to be able to. With this letter is a box that your parents gave to me to give to you. They say that they hope you enjoy your gifts as much as they enjoyed thiers.

Have a Happy Christmas,

With Love, Father Christmas.

Harry smiled, just the letter itself would have made him happy, but he was still curious as to what could be in the box. Harry carefully peeled the wrapping paper away and opened what appeared to be another cardboard box. Inside Harry found a small bag of gingerbread cookies and three perfectly intact candy canes. He also found a little angel ornament made of diamonds and drawing of Santa Claus that looked as though it had been done by an artist. There was also beautiful woven blanket with a white reindeer as the design. Harry wrapped it around him, the blanket was very warm. He also found underneath the blanket a photograph album. Harry had never seen so many pictures of his parents in his life, he flipped through it eagerly. After a few minutes he put the album aside and found at the bottom of the box a stocking. It was very long and looked as though it had been crocheted. The pattern of a white reindeer was stitched into it and his name had been woven into it with care. Inside the stocking Harry found a pretty diamond chain and a warm scarlet winter scarf.

And at the way bottom of the box Harry found a little tag and on it he read:

Sending you a little Christmas, until you come home to me.

Happy Christmas, Mum and Dad

Harry grinned, this had to be the best Christmas ever.

"Happy Christmas Mum and Dad," Harry said. "Thank you Santa, I knew I could count on you"

A/N: So whatcha think? Remember reading is good, reviewing is rad! SO REVIEW!

Merry Christmas

Prongseh