Title: Tickling Christmas.

Summary: Why I hate Christmas. By Draco Malfoy.

Rating: PG. Why not?

Disclaimer: I own many things. The Harry Potter characters are not added to the list.

I spend every Christmas day from three stories up, peering out into a mysteriously dark white, world of skeletal trees and very few of them. Everything is quiet during my Christmas days, because my father is in his study, and because my mother isn't as stupid as she looks, and doesn't make any noise.

Chrismtas day-a time for family together-ness.

Hah.

No, Christmas day at the Malfoy Manor is unpleasant, and cold, at best. My father tends to be particularly pissy on Christmas, and my mother always hides out in one of the one hundred fifty eight rooms in this god forsaken home.

But. when I was younger..

When I was younger, I remember having Christmas. With a loving family, in a cozy house, next to a big tree. I had Christmas, just like all my friends. I've cherished those early memories as I would a kitten. Sadly, I know all they are, are memories.

When I was five years old, I remember having Christmas, just like my friends. My mum and dad would have all their friends over to visit us and open gifts with us. The dining room table was always filled up, the chairs, and the table, with huge plates, always shining gold. And the air always rang of laugher, and always smelt of really good things.

There would always be a lot of kids there, too, all my age, and my dad, and all the adults would always shoo us away to the kids table. But Francis and Jo were so lucky, Their dad would let them go in with him to the grown-up table, and he even let them have tastes of his butter beer!! And then this other time, me and Michelle Bonnie were hiding under the grown up table, and we couldn't stop laughing. We started taking of my mums shoes and tickling her feet, but then it turned out to be someone else's mum, I didn't even know whose. But then me and Michelle had to run out of the table, really quick so no one would see us, so we did, and then she put me under the missletoe and got on her toes and she kissed me right in front of everybody!

And when I was six we had the biggest, greenest Christmas tree I've ever seen. And I know it wasn't just really big because I was little, because I remember it was twice as big as my dad, and we had to magic the star all the way up to the top.

. We had a smaller Christmas that year. A large tree, but a small party. I got my second broomstick, which . was rather nice. But that year, only two of my friends came to visit-both heavy set boys. I don't remember their names. neither one of them tried to kiss me.

Then the next year, there were a about seven adults, but all the children had gone away. I tried asking my father a few days beforehand, if Michelle was going to come that year-he only glared at me.

I never asked about what happened to my friends again.

But I think its my fault we don't have anyone over anymore. I should have never let Michelle Bonne give me a kiss. I should have never tickled anyone under the table.

I was just having fun.

Sometimes I dream I'm doing it again.

I'm sorry for ruining your Christmas parties, father, so you would never have them again.

Next year, Christmas eve, I'll ask you if Michelle is coming to our party, and hope that you say yes.

But until then.

I'll hide out in my room on Christmas day, watching the mysterious white world from three stories up. Wondering about all the families who love each other, and show it on Christmas day.