I DISCLAIM: I don't own Harry Pothea- er, Potter, nor any characters you recognize. I do own my original characters, including, but not limited to JD, Moosk (kinda), and Stephy (kinda). I also don't own the poem 'Twas the Night Before Christmas' by Clement Moore (who owns it, obviously) nor do I own the title "Nightmare Before Christmas" (that would be the most awesome Tim Burton). I thank you.
A/N: Welcome to Day 1 of the Christmas Trio. Enjoy and please leave a contibution in the little box.
WARNING!!! PLEASE READ FIRST!!! This is for all of you 'anal' readers out there who will complain if I don't mention this beforehand.
A) A lot of this won't rhyme. I'm not good with rhymes. It happens.
2) This is mostly making fun of Santa, though Voldie gets a bit of it.
B) THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE! Due to the large alcohol content, this might need a slightly higher rating.
NOW, IF YOU FLAME ME, BUT DIDN'T READ THE ABOVE MESSAGE, I WILL TOTALLY IGNORE YOU. No, seriously, I will.
Twas The Nightmare Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the mansion
Not a creature was stirring, not even Voldie was out.
The Death Eater masks were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that they would soon dry from the moist England air.
The Death Eaters were nestled all snug in their chairs,
While visions of Voldie's humiliation danced in their heads.
And the girls in their pjs and Voldie asleep,
All had settled their nerves for the greatest showdown.
When out of Voldie's room there arose such a noise,
V-man sprang from his bed as JD stabbed him with a pin.
Away to the window Voldemort hit like a flash,
Broke up the shutters and threw up on the sash.
As the girls peeked out to the new-fallen snow
The moon gave lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to Moosks' wondering eyes should appear,
But a neon orange sleigh and eight tin reindeer.
With a large old driver, so drunk and slurring,
They knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than Superman his coursers they came,
And he hiccupped and shouted and called them by name!
"Now You! now, Stooge! now, Patsy and Wimp!
On, Blitzed! On, (burp)! on, on Donny and Pimp!
To the top of Voldemort head! to the top of that ego!
Now move away! Move away! Move away all!"
As dry heaves that before the worlds largest toilet fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, move out the way.
So up to the house-top the tin coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Booze, and that drunk St Nicolas too.
And then, in a mad rush, all ran to the roof
The Dark Lord getting pushed and shoved with an 'oof!.'
As all hit the third floor and were beginning to turn around,
Out of the john St Nicolas came with a blelch.
He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts,
And his clothes were all stained from greasy food and cheap beer.
A six pack of tequila he had just opened,
And he looked like a bartender, just closing for the night.
His eyes-how they were glazed! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as stained as his shirt.
The stump of a cigarette he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled Voldie's head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a big round beer belly,
That shook as he burped, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right rude old elf,
And JD laughed when she saw him, in spite of the look she received!
A squint of his eye and a twist of his hand,
Soon had JD fighting the bonds that held her from him.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings with coal, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger inside of his nose,
And pulling out a big one, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whip,
And away they all flew with a sound like a train.
But all heard him exclaim, over the roar of the engine,
"Happy Christmas to all that don't live in Voldie's manor!"