Post by stefdarlin on Dec 11, 2007 10:28:29 GMT -5
Title: ‘Twas a Charming Night Before Christmas
Summary & Disclaimer: A charming little twist on the classic poem ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. This poem was originally written by Clement Clarke Moore to read to his family on Christmas Eve. I do not own it or claim it. He wrote a wonderful poem. I have just played with it a bit to include some charming characters from the potterverse (which, BTW are owned by JKR and I am only playing). I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.
Rating: Everyone =o)
*I don't know about you but it kinda made me snicker*
Happy Christmas Everyone!!
Stef =o)
Summary & Disclaimer: A charming little twist on the classic poem ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. This poem was originally written by Clement Clarke Moore to read to his family on Christmas Eve. I do not own it or claim it. He wrote a wonderful poem. I have just played with it a bit to include some charming characters from the potterverse (which, BTW are owned by JKR and I am only playing). I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.
Rating: Everyone =o)
‘Twas A Charming Night Before Christmas
'Twas The Night Before Christmas, when all through the castle
Not a creature was stirring, not even the Headmaster.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
Our sprouts were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of mandragoras danced in their heads;
And ‘Mona in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out in the courtyard there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the draperies and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Lord Voldemort with eight Death-Eaters near,
I set off my patronus to warn the keepers of our fortress,
Then turned at Pomona’s gasp with her hands clasped at her breast.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dolohov! Now, Rookwood! Now, Crabbe and Goyle!
On, McNair! On Lestrange! On, Pettigrew and Malfoy!
To the top of the turret! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! The hopes of them all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the astronomy tower the coursers they flew,
With wands at the ready, and Lord Voldemort too.
And then, in a crashing, I heard on the roof
the stagger and fumble of each Death-Eater’s goof.
As I drew out my wand, and was turning around,
Up to the Astronomy Tower I went with a bound.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A heap of Death-Eaters seemed flung at his feet,
and he looked like he should, perhaps, just admit to defeat.
Then, to my wondering eyes did appear,
The Headmaster of Hogwarts with his great flowing beard.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! 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 white as the snow;
His wand at the ready just pulled from its sheath,
and his hair encircled his head like a wreath;
Ensuring the safety of everyone near,
We both cast our spells before Voldemort could give even a leer.
Our minds being like in our thoughts of the night,
Caused Voldemort and his cohorts to vanish from sight.
Then there before us the menacing group came to view,
Not as themselves, but as a jolly old crew.
The Death-Eaters morphed into tiny reindeer,
All hitched to a sleigh and ready to veer.
Lord Volde was now, as far as we could see,
Why, a vision of St. Nick was all he could be.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
He grimaced and fought but could not overcome,
These spells which were cast so he looked rather dumb.
His shoulders, they slumped with no triumph in sight,
So he admonished himself and ran from his plight.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
With a sigh of relief I turned to my wife,
Took her hand, kissed her gently just grateful for life.
A smile quirked my mouth as what would come next I knew,
I heard the Dark Lord yell in anger and seem to struggle as he flew.
Try as he might he just couldn’t win,
He threw up his hands so he wouldn’t begin.
But forced from his mouth, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
'Twas The Night Before Christmas, when all through the castle
Not a creature was stirring, not even the Headmaster.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
Our sprouts were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of mandragoras danced in their heads;
And ‘Mona in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out in the courtyard there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the draperies and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Lord Voldemort with eight Death-Eaters near,
I set off my patronus to warn the keepers of our fortress,
Then turned at Pomona’s gasp with her hands clasped at her breast.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dolohov! Now, Rookwood! Now, Crabbe and Goyle!
On, McNair! On Lestrange! On, Pettigrew and Malfoy!
To the top of the turret! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! The hopes of them all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the astronomy tower the coursers they flew,
With wands at the ready, and Lord Voldemort too.
And then, in a crashing, I heard on the roof
the stagger and fumble of each Death-Eater’s goof.
As I drew out my wand, and was turning around,
Up to the Astronomy Tower I went with a bound.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A heap of Death-Eaters seemed flung at his feet,
and he looked like he should, perhaps, just admit to defeat.
Then, to my wondering eyes did appear,
The Headmaster of Hogwarts with his great flowing beard.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! 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 white as the snow;
His wand at the ready just pulled from its sheath,
and his hair encircled his head like a wreath;
Ensuring the safety of everyone near,
We both cast our spells before Voldemort could give even a leer.
Our minds being like in our thoughts of the night,
Caused Voldemort and his cohorts to vanish from sight.
Then there before us the menacing group came to view,
Not as themselves, but as a jolly old crew.
The Death-Eaters morphed into tiny reindeer,
All hitched to a sleigh and ready to veer.
Lord Volde was now, as far as we could see,
Why, a vision of St. Nick was all he could be.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
He grimaced and fought but could not overcome,
These spells which were cast so he looked rather dumb.
His shoulders, they slumped with no triumph in sight,
So he admonished himself and ran from his plight.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
With a sigh of relief I turned to my wife,
Took her hand, kissed her gently just grateful for life.
A smile quirked my mouth as what would come next I knew,
I heard the Dark Lord yell in anger and seem to struggle as he flew.
Try as he might he just couldn’t win,
He threw up his hands so he wouldn’t begin.
But forced from his mouth, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
*I don't know about you but it kinda made me snicker*
Happy Christmas Everyone!!
Stef =o)
, but then had a big sigh of relief!