"Christmas Dinner" is an actual song, so I thought it appropriate. I don't know the original writer as a mentor taught it to me and she learned it the same way. Cheers!
Christmas DinnerAnd it came to pass on a Christmas evening
While all the doors were shuttered tight
On the street, a lonely boy-child,
Cold and shivering in the night.
Harry Potter walked alone on the streets of Little Whinging one cold and windy Christmas night. The Dursleys were having company and had shut him in his cupboard for the evening, not wishing to be pestered with awkward questions. While they dined, Harry had snuck out of his cupboard, out the front door and into the night. He knew the Dursleys would never miss him, and he always made sure to leave the first level window to the toilette unlocked so he could sneak back in later at night.
Many times, Harry would hide in the bushes along the street, listening to the carolers as they walked along after everyone had finished their feasts. The music was beautiful, and it heartened him to hear it. He had never went caroling himself- the Dursley's wouldn't allow it- but he had always liked when any singers had come to Number 4, Privet Drive. That is, Harry had always liked it until they had stopped coming. Uncle Vernon usually slammed the door in their faces, muttering about charities and how he wasn't going to give his 'hard-earned Pounds to some swotty nancy-boys'.
Somehow the knowledge that he would rather be out in the cold seeing what Christmas was like with other families than being shut in his cupboard didn't disturb Harry. He would rather imagine being inside with a loving family than really be locked in his cupboard hearing the superficial chatter coming from Vernon and Petunia Dursley's kitchen. He would rather hide outside in the cold bushes and hear the carolers than Dudley's whining about how there wasn't enough dessert.
Harry was hungry- the Dursleys never fed him much to begin with, and he didn't see why Christmas should be any different. Ten years living in a cupboard had made him small, pale, and scrawny, but it didn't matter to him. He was small enough to hide in a crowd, and therefore had been saved from quite a bit of ridicule. Stuffing his hands deeper into his over-sized jumper, Harry bit his lip and shivered. He liked his Christmas walks- then he could at least look into everyone's happily lit windows and imagine he was there, too, eating a delicious feast.
On the street, every window,
Save but one, was gleaming bright.
And to this window, walked the boy-child,
And peeking in saw candlelight.
Through other windows he had looked at turkeys,
Ducks and geese, cherry pies,
But through this window saw a gray-haired old lady
Her table bare and tears in her eyes.
Harry had never walked this far before, and had never seen this house. Carefully, he tiptoed up the front walk and peered in through the curtains. Harry had never seen anyone so sad in his life, and that was saying something as he lived with the Dursleys and had had to witness the demise of Dudley's poor mistreated parrot. Looking around, Harry saw the street was deserted- the carolers from the local church must not have made it this far. Acting much braver than he felt, Harry stepped onto the porch and pushed the bell. He heard a distant scraping of a chair and his hands shook nervously inside his jumper pockets as the door opened.
"What do you want?" asked the lady, trying to wipe away her tears.
Harry blanched- what DID he want? Nothing really- just to see the old lady smile. He felt so bad for her, sitting all alone. Even he at least had spiders in his cupboard to keep him company on Christmas- this woman had no one.
"I—I—" He began, but nothing would come out.
The woman smiled sadly at him, "I haven't got any money, dear. I'm terribly sorry."
Harry shook his head- WHY did he ring the bell? He opened his mouth, and began to voice the first thing that came to mind-
'On the first say of Christmas, my true love gave to me- a partridge in a pear tree!
On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- um—oh, darn, um—'
The old lady laughed, and continued, 'two turtle doves,' and she and Harry finished together 'and a partridge in a pear tree!' chortling merrily. They stood there, she inside peeking out, he standing outside peeking in, both laughing fit to burst. Harry put his hands back in his jumper pockets, and felt what Aunt Petunia had given him that night for his meager Christmas dinner. Giving the lady a brave, small smile, he brought out the food and held it out to her.
In his coat, reached the boy-childKnowing well there was little there.
He took from his pockets his own Christmas dinner,
A bit of cheese and some bread to share.
His outstretched hands held the food and they trembled
As the door, it opened wide.
Said he, "Will you share with me Christmas dinner?"
Gently said she, "Come inside."
"Um, ma'am, would you like to share Christmas dinner with me?" Harry asked nervously, fearing she would turn down the pitiful portions.
Her eyes widened at the generosity of the small child on her doorstep- he had next to nothing, and yet he was willing to share it with her. She stepped back, and for a moment Harry thought he was going to be shut out, but then the door opened wide.
"Come inside, dear," the old lady said, smiling. Harry couldn't help but notice that the tears were back in her eyes.
The lady led him to a small, but cozy dining room, where she sat him at the head of the table. She brought out two place mats, and two sets of dishes. Taking the bread Harry offered, she sliced it and placed the cheese with it on the two plates. Going to the cupboard, she removed two glasses and the remains of a bottle of wine- barely enough for one. Pouring it into the two glasses, she sat one in front of Harry and one in front of her own place. She smiled at the few sips that were in front of them, and shrugged as if to say 'it's all I've got.' Harry didn't mind- it wasn't as if he had contributed a whole lot either.
The gray-haired lady brought forth to the table
Glasses two and her last drop of wine.
Said she, "Here's a toast to everyone's Christmas,
And especially yours and mine."
"So what brings you to my doorstep, dear?" she asked kindly.
Harry swallowed his mouthful of bread before he spoke. "Well, ma'am—"
"Please, call me Seraphina."
Harry smiled, "Well, Seraphina, I—um—like taking walks on Christmas."
She nodded appraisingly, sipping delicately from her wine glass, holding it carefully at the stem.
"Your family doesn't mind?"
Harry blushed. "I live with my Aunt and Uncle, ma'am—Seraphina—and I would be surprised if they even noticed I was missing."
"I see…"
"They don't like me much, and so they shut me—um—ask me, to um, stay in my—um—room when they have company. So I usually leave and go take walks."
"And so you ended up on my doorstep, and decided to sing Christmas carols?"
Harry blushed once again. "Please don't be mad, ma'am—"
"Seraphina—"
"Sorry. Please don't be mad, Seraphina, it's just I saw you sitting alone and I felt just horrible. I don't think anyone should be alone on Christmas—it's just too awful. So I rang your bell and then I got scared and didn't know what to say, so I said the first thing I could think of… Too bad I couldn't remember the words very well."
Seraphina smiled at him, and took another sip of wine. "It doesn't matter, I don't think I could have remembered it all, either."
Harry grinned- Seraphina made him feel very comfortable, nothing at all like the Dursleys.
"Why were you sitting alone, Seraphina?"
Harry saw the lines on her face tighten ever so slightly, but she relaxed almost instantly.
"My family doesn't care for me much either. They think I'm… strange… So they don't visit me any more. Normally I don't mind, but Christmas is always hard."
"Strange?" asked Harry, puzzled. "People think I'm strange, too. Funny things happen when I'm around—things no one can explain.
"Like this one time at school, I got a really bad note I was supposed to take home because the teacher said I made the water fountain squirt Jeremy Madden in the face. I didn't- but she said I did and made me take a note to my Aunt. When I got home, my Aunt read the note and said that it was nice I was doing good in Maths, but she didn't really need to know!"
"Did she now?"
"Yeah!" Harry gushed, for once feeling completely at ease. "It was the strangest thing, because I had read the note right before I gave it to her, and it was awful! I read it when she handed it back and it had completely changed! I had no idea how to explain it!"
Seraphina raised her eyebrows and folded her hands in her lap. She looked at Harry very intensely—she seemed to be choosing her words carefully.
"Couldn't explain it, you say?" She paused briefly before continuing, "What did you say your name was, dear?"
Harry put down his glass carefully- he wasn't used to holding something so delicate- Aunt Petunia wouldn't let him touch her glassware even to wash it, let alone drink out of it.
"I didn't- it's Harry."
Seraphina started, ever so slightly, but Harry was too preoccupied with his cheese to notice.
"Well, Harry, I am ever so delighted that you happened upon my doorstep tonight."
"Thank you, Seraphina."
"I imagine you must be about ten or eleven, Harry, am I right?"
Harry nodded. "That's right. I'm having my eleventh birthday in July."
"July? Goodness, you must be very excited."
Harry shrugged. "Just another birthday, nothing special. I don't like them much."
Seraphina nodded, understanding a little more about the boy sitting at her table. "Well, Harry, let me tell you what I think…"
"What?"
"I think that after this birthday, your Christmases will get a lot better."
Harry grinned up at her, "Really? You think so?"
Seraphina smiled. "I know so."
Harry and Seraphina enjoyed the rest of their dinner and then extinguished the candles. She walked Harry to the door and waved him goodbye. Harry smiled and headed back to the Dursleys, hoping that maybe Seraphina was right, and Christmas would be better from now on. Seraphina watched as Harry walked down the street until he disappeared around the corner.
She whispered into the night at the last of the young boy's shadow, "Good luck, Harry Potter."
And it came to pass on a Christmas evening
While all the doors were shuttered tight,
That in that town, the happiest Christmas
Was shared by candlelight.