Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart's Christmas at St Mungo's.
No Presents
It is Christmas. From the windows of this room in this room of the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's, you can see the thick layer of snow in the street outside. It is as cheerful as a room could be in a hospital.
The patient in this room is still sleeping when the Healer, Miriam Strout, a motherly woman dressed in green robes, enters. "Good morning, Gilderoy," she says, a warm smile on her face. "It is time to wake up."
The man buries his face in the pillow, his blond hair sticking out in various directions. "G'way!" he mumbles and tries to burrow himself into the pillow.
"Um hmm," the Healer says, smiling cheerfully. "Do you not know what day is today?"
The man hums something; it sounds like he is reciting the seven days of the week. "L'me sleep!"
"Merry Christmas, Gilderoy!"
At this, the patient, Gilderoy Lockhart, turns over and his blandly handsome face with blue eyes comes into view. The once bestseller writer throws the blanket off and jumps out of the bed clumsily, hitting his toe on leg of the bedside table.
"Oww!" He flops back on the bad and rubs his foot, then remembers it is Christmas. He looks around for his presents and frowns when there's nothing but a small box lying on the bedside table. "Where are my presents?" he asks the Healer.
The Healer gives him a sad smile and picks up the small box, which is given to all the patients who stay there on Christmas by the hospital. Gilderoy takes it and rips the packing off. Inside is a single chocolate frog. He quickly opens it and stuffs the chocolate in his mouth, making the Healer giggle. He turns the card over and scowls at the picture of Albus Dumbledore that comes into view. That man has too long hair, and isn't even handsome. Why don't they print his picture, instead?
Tossing the card on the bed, Gilderoy look up at the Healer. "Where are my other presents?"
"No more presents for you," the Healer says, shaking her head. She pities the man, even though she knows he's just paying for his own sins. She doesn't think anyone deserves a fate like this. She shakes a finger at him. "Perhaps you've been a naughty boy this year, so Santa didn't get you any more presents."
Gilderoy stares at her, open mouthed. Did she not no Santa isn't real. He isn't a kid, for Merlin's sake! "There's no such thing as Santa. And I should get presents! I always get heaps of presents from—" Gilderoy frowns when he can't remember who gives him presents. But someone—no, a lot of people—do. He is sure.
A small smile spreads on the Healer's face. If he remembers that much, perhaps not all hope is lost. "All right, Gilderoy. Now I'm going to go wake up others. Don't be naughty. Perhaps Santa will send someone to visit you."
Gilderoy grins. "They will take my autograph?"
The Healer smiles. "They will." She just hopes someone comes by to see the poor man.
Word Count: 520
Prompts used:
From The Nativity Play
• Roman Soldier 2: (scenario) Opening presents on Christmas morning (500 minimum words)
• Gilderoy Lockhart