Was the night before
Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was
stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by
the chimney with care,
In hopes that Santa for
Wizards would turn up there.
The children were nestled
all snug in their beds,
While visions of muggles
danced in their heads.
And Hermione waving her
wand, an eye in her lap,
Had just settled her brain
for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there
arose such a clatter,
Ron sprang from his chair
to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Ron
flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters 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 Ron’s
wondering eyes should appear,
But a Drunk Harry Potter,
with eight tins of strong beer.
With a little can opener,
so lively and quick,
Ron knew in a moment Harry
must be feeling quite sick.
Then into the night a
voice suddenly came,
And it whistled, and
shouted, and called Ron by his name!
"You’re my best mate
Ron you cute little Vixen!
I’ve had a great doner kebab at a party in Blitzen!
but I’ve been sick on the
porch! and the top of the wall!
but must dash away! Dash
away! because I might be sick in your hall”
As dry leaves that before
the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an
obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up on the house-top Ron
he just knew,
With a sleigh full of
Toys, was Hagrid drinking Homebrew.
And then, in a twinkling,
Ron heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of
each little hoof.
As Ron shook his head, and
then turned around,
Down the chimney fell
Hagrid with a terrible sound
He was dressed all in fur,
from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all
tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bottle of gin he had
tied on his back,
And he looked like a
madman, about to attack.
His eyes-how they
twinkled! his dimples how scary!
His cheeks were like
roses, his nose rather hairy!
His droll little mouth was
drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin
was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he
held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled
his head like Banshees in the heath.
He had a broad manic face,
was incredibly smelly,
And he shook when he
laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was grumpy and plump,
spitting bits of food on a shelf,
And Ron cringed when he
saw him, in spite of himself!
A wink of his eye and a
twist of his head,
Soon gave Ron to know he
better watch what he said.
He spoke not a word, but
went straight to his work,
And filled all the
stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger
aside of his nose,
Giving a nod, out the
window he then chose!
He sprang to his sleigh,
and to Harry Potter gave a whistle,
And away they both flew
like the down of a thistle.
But Ron heard him exclaim,
‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Here Harry I know of
this bar that is open all night!"
