A/N: Lucille goes carolling. I have a story called The Muggle-born Queen staring my OC, Lucille. She's muggleborn and in this fic, she's four and this happens some time before her parents' death. She has a bit of accidental magic, and her parents are aware that strange things happen around the little girl sometimes.

Submission for:

DECEMBER Fanfiction Scavenger Hunt Competition: An OC

Countdown to Christmas Drabble/Oneshot Competition!: Day 22 - carol singers

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Little Lucille walked along the snow-covered sidewalk, her hand in her mother's, as they moved with the large group of carol singers. She had been so excited when her mother suggested they go singing outside in the snow. Lucille loved singing but so far, all they were really doing were walking and getting the doors slammed in their faces.

"Does no one like singing?" Lucille asked her mum as they walked away from yet another angry old woman and another shut door.

"Some people can't sing, Lucille," her father said from her other side. "So they don't like when other people sing."

The four-year-old pouted. How could someone not like singing? Maybe they just had never heard her sing.

They stopped at another house and one of the ladies in the group walked up to the front door and knocked. "Everyone, get ready," she said to the crowd behind her.

The door opened and a large man opened it. He glared out at the crowd that had forced him to get out of his comfortable warm armchair in his boxers.

"We wish you-" everyone began but then the man screamed.

"No! No singing! I've had it with you carollers! Every year it's the same thing and I've had enough of it."

Lucille started to cry from the man's loud words. Why would no one hear her singing?

But then suddenly, the snow on the roof above the man's front door slid down, covering him the cold ice.

Lucille's parents looked at their now smiling daughter and at the fuming, spitting man. "Let's just get out of here," Lucille's father said loudly, picking up his daughter and moving away from this house.

Lucille smiled as she watched the man try to brush the cold snow off his porky pink skin. That would teach him not to listen to her singing.