Advent Day 3: Tripple Drabble
Name: Harry's Wish
Author: Me (mein_einhorn)
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Summary: Sometimes, Santa is delayed in delivering his gifts.
Disclaimer: You know the drill by now, I hope.
Author's Note: This is as close to ickle!fic as I will ever get, I think. Enjoy it while you can, indigo_kitti. Everyone else: you can enjoy it too!
Harry sighed and put the final ornament on the Christmas tree. After much abuse from his aunt, he had finally got around to decorating the tree. The practice was usually to have Dudley do so, but the lump had decided to be “ill” today.
“Harry!” Aunt Petunia hissed. Harry groaned: he was ten years old, so how could he possibly mess up the decorations? “You’ve put the star on the wrong way.”
Harry hung his head and climbed back atop his chair to get the star. As he looked into the golden depths of the ornament, he thought he could see more than just faux gold flakes. It was as if he were gazing into a crystal ball and seeing his own happy future. A second later, though, he was rearranging the tree topper and shaking his head. He loved the tree, he really did, but harassment never made anyone happy.
Aunt Petunia, apparently satisfied now, turned on her heel and strutted out of the sitting room, leaving Harry with Uncle Vernon, who read the newspaper on the sofa. Outside, snowflakes meandered through the air on their lazy way to the ground. Harry glanced back at the star, and with a longing sigh, put his hand on the tip.
Screwing his eyes shut, he wished with all his might: I wish I could get away from here. I wish Christmas wasn’t all about Dudley’s presents. I wish... I wish someone loved me.
But it would never happen. Wishing upon any kind of star was not an effective way to get things done. Harry opened his eyes and stepped down, regarding the tree.
“What are you doing, boy? Waiting to be flown away by a fat man in a sleigh?” Vernon barked.
Maybe I am, thought Harry with a small smile, maybe I am.
Author: Me (mein_einhorn)
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Summary: Sometimes, Santa is delayed in delivering his gifts.
Disclaimer: You know the drill by now, I hope.
Author's Note: This is as close to ickle!fic as I will ever get, I think. Enjoy it while you can, indigo_kitti. Everyone else: you can enjoy it too!
Harry sighed and put the final ornament on the Christmas tree. After much abuse from his aunt, he had finally got around to decorating the tree. The practice was usually to have Dudley do so, but the lump had decided to be “ill” today.
“Harry!” Aunt Petunia hissed. Harry groaned: he was ten years old, so how could he possibly mess up the decorations? “You’ve put the star on the wrong way.”
Harry hung his head and climbed back atop his chair to get the star. As he looked into the golden depths of the ornament, he thought he could see more than just faux gold flakes. It was as if he were gazing into a crystal ball and seeing his own happy future. A second later, though, he was rearranging the tree topper and shaking his head. He loved the tree, he really did, but harassment never made anyone happy.
Aunt Petunia, apparently satisfied now, turned on her heel and strutted out of the sitting room, leaving Harry with Uncle Vernon, who read the newspaper on the sofa. Outside, snowflakes meandered through the air on their lazy way to the ground. Harry glanced back at the star, and with a longing sigh, put his hand on the tip.
Screwing his eyes shut, he wished with all his might: I wish I could get away from here. I wish Christmas wasn’t all about Dudley’s presents. I wish... I wish someone loved me.
But it would never happen. Wishing upon any kind of star was not an effective way to get things done. Harry opened his eyes and stepped down, regarding the tree.
“What are you doing, boy? Waiting to be flown away by a fat man in a sleigh?” Vernon barked.
Maybe I am, thought Harry with a small smile, maybe I am.