ohhh I have no life! I decided to write a nice Christmas fic for you all and it's angsty, I write those best I think and from Draco Malfoy's point of view, the night before his wedding and coincidentally, Christmas. I have kept some lines in, because they apply, but practically all of it is my creation. Also, it has one more verse than the original "Twas the Night" but I needed it so I hope you don't mind.
Disclaimer: I don't own Draco Malfoy in any way shape or form, although I know most of us would love to….
'twas the night before Christmas and all through the manor
not a person was sleeping, not even the planner.
The streamers were hung and looked quite fair
Although secretly I hoped that they would all tear.
My fiancée snuggled all warm in our bed,
With visions of riches going 'round her head.
With her night cap all twisted and her face like a pug,
I wish I had never laid eyes on that mug.
When out on the lawn I heard such a noise
I rose from my chair with much grace and poise.
I went silently over to my windowsill
And saw black robes, men looking ready to kill.
The moon up above was just bright enough
To show that they meant it and looked pretty tough.
When all of a sudden I realized too late
That this is it; I was bound to my fate.
I saw at the head of the group clad in black
My father, but control did he lack.
I hurriedly went over to my dresser to pack
Knowing by leaving I could never turn back.
"Now MacNair, Lestrange, Nott Crabbe and Goyle!
Our Dark Lord bids us for toil."
I listened with care as he instructed them all
To carry out the good side's fall.
As the wind changes in winter I felt my eyes freeze,
Leaving this life would be met not with ease.
For up the tall steps they were climbing already
I double-checked my bags to make sure they were ready.
I went to the door and without looking back
Slung my bag right over my back.
I could hear them all talking they were always too loud,
"So these are the people of whom Father is proud."
Sneaking down the stairs I stopped with a jolt,
I wondered if through the door I should bolt.
Their faces were gaunt and pale with malice
Drinking hard liquor straight from the chalice.
Their eyes; how frosty! Their cheeks pale as snow,
Their hair ragged and dirty…standing all in a row.
Their eyes felt no feelings and gave out no pity,
Their five o'clock shadows made them look much less witty.
My father, a cigarette clenched in his teeth,
The smoke encircling his head like a wreath,
Looked down at them all with a face that could kill.
A face that could kill; and undoubtedly will.
I crept to the door and whispered a spell.
If I was quick, the Minister I'd tell.
They sat in the living room, somber as ashes,
Their pale faces accenting their lashes.
They spoke not a word as I walked out the door,
The cold bitter air I was so grateful for.
I ran like a madman and collapsed in the snow,
But now that I'd left, where would I go?
I heard a small clatter and a large outraged cry,
My Father can always detect a lie.
I quickly Apparated without a trace
And heard his frustration as away did I race.
In an alley I was, lost and yearning for warm,
Longing even for my Slytherin dorm.
The happy cries of shoppers outside filled the air,
"Merry Christmas to all!"…now that would be rare.
(this was very spur of the moment, don't flame me too bad! =) )