A Merry Potter Christmas

(This poem was originally written in December 2020 as a holiday parody poem following our favorite wizards and witches.)

Disclaimer: This is a parody of the original Night Before Christmas poem published anonymously in the Troy (New York) Sentinel on December 23, 1823, combined with the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling.

’Twas the night before Yule, when all throughout Hogwarts
Not a creature was stirring, not even Draco’s cohorts.
The icicles were hung in the common rooms with care,
In hopes that Headless Nick soon would be there.

The students were nestled all snug in their beds,
Whilst visions of Chocolate Frogs danced in their heads.
With Minerva in her gown and Dumbledore in his slippers
Not a sound would be heard, not even mermaids’ flippers.

When out on the grounds there arose such a clatter,
Albus sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the lake he apparated in a flash,
Lit up his wand and looked round in a dash!

The full moon’s glare on the new-fallen snow,
Gave a hazed, eerie light to the objects below.
When what to Albus’ eyes should appear,
But a werewolf, Greyback, wearing a sickening sneer.

With a learned sense of evil, and so was its horde,
That he knew in a moment it must be the Dark Lord.
More rapid than thestrals his Death Eaters came,
As he screamed and shouted and called them by name.

“Now Carrow! Now Dolohov! Now Goyle and Avery!
On Lestrange! On Crabbe! On Malfoy and Yaxley!
To the top of the castle, to the top of the wall!
Now Avada Kedavra forever to all!”

But Dumbledore, as quick as a phoenix will fly,
Appeared on the rooftop in the blink of an eye.
And the Death Eaters, unaware, took their broomsticks and flew
High over the castle with Voldemort too.

Right then, in a scurry, house elves climbed on the roof
To join Professor Dumbledore with each tiny poof.
As he stuck out his wand, and whipped right around,
Down from the sky Tom Riddle came with a bound.

He was dressed all in black from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all tarnished with dampening sleet.
A green-glowing orb came forth from his wand
But fell into limbo just as it had Harry’s bond.

His eyes how they raged! His lips how they screamed!
His veins began popping! His nose had been dreamed!
His confused, pale mouth was drawn up in contempt
As he no longer could magic in his failed attempt.

For it was Yule’s Eve and though he may doubt
Father Christmas was indeed still up and about.
And Dumbledore, with a smile of knowing and smarts
Whisked all of the darkness away from those parts.

Then Father Christmas, a right jolly old fellow,
Shook Albus’ hand and guffawed with a bellow!
With a wink of an eye and the nod of his head,
All Hogwarts would sleep without knowing this dread.

For they spoke not a word and went straight to work
Filling all of the trunks near the beds with a smirk.
And laying upon the floor a fine cloak with care
Albus smiled down at Harry’s unruly hair.

Father Christmas gave a quiet nod to his friend,
And Dumbledore gave to him Fawkes for a lend.
Yet one thing he said as he grabbed hold in flight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”