A Death Eater's Christmas
A Holiday Fan-fiction written by Catherine Rookwood.
A/N – I can't help myself, I heart Lord V. I wanted to do an insanely fluffy piece about a Death Eater Christmas and this is what resulted! The themes I incorporated are snowballs, Christmas trees, and a gift from an unexpected person.
-x-
It was Christmas morning, and light was streaming into the bedroom where the Dark Lord usually slept in, well, darkness. He was not pleased to find his black velvet draperies slightly open, revealing the softly falling snow outside. He threw back his covers and strode to the large window, intending to close the drapes and retire once more to his bed. When he got close enough to the window to see the individual snowflakes clinging to the cold glass, he heard it. Gleeful shouting, laughter, things that sounded suspiciously like happiness. In short, everything he did not expect to hear anywhere in within a good five-mile radius of himself.
Perplexed, he whipped out his wand and gave the window a vicious tap. It swung outward with protesting creak, letting in a gust of freezing air and snow. Voldemort drew his night-robes closer about himself and shivered as he leaned over the casing and looked down into the yard below, ready to hex the first person he saw. Instead, his cat-like red eyes widened with disbelief.
"Ahaha, Bella! I've got you cornered. You can't hide in there for – AUGH!" yelled Lucius, as he was hit in the face by a bewitched snowball. "MacNair, I'll CRUCIO you for that!"
"You'd have to catch me first!" cackled Walden MacNair, disapparating.
Bellatrix Lestrange, back to back with her husband Rodolphus, emerged from a gigantic igloo that had somehow sprouted from Voldemort's lawn during the night, and was promptly pounced upon by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Get them! Get them!" screamed Bella disappearing beneath the snow, as Rodolphus sent several enormous snowballs flying at the two men.
One hit Crabbe in the face, knocking him flat on his back. Spitting out a mouthful of snow, he turned to help Goyle, who had been hit in the stomach and propelled into a nearby fir tree. A fir tree which, Voldemort noticed with rising displeasure, had been decorated. It looked like a Christmas tree, with what appeared to be bottled fairies providing twinkling lights of various colors.
Rookwood and Dolohov were engaged in a violent-looking scuffle, rolling through the snow like schoolboys with MacNair egging them on. Two other Death Eaters were flinging more bewitched snowballs down at the rest from their brooms. A particularly wayward snowball flew straight at Lord Voldemort. He jumped aside, batting it away, and began considering the various unpleasant things he could do to his followers for this display of idiocy.
Stepping back to the window, he raised his wand. He paused, then with a twisted sort of smile he brought his wand whistling through the air, pointing it at the largest Christmas tree on the lawn. In the snow underneath the tree there suddenly appeared many green-and-silver packages, replete with bows and tags.
They wouldn't suspect it of him, anyway, he thought as he climbed back in bed listening to their delighted exclamations wafting through his window.