Harry Potter hated his lot in life, especially during the most wonderful time of the year. He abhorred Christmas with a burning passion, with a passion so strong, even his girlfriend’s fire couldn’t compare.
every fucking year, she would hear, “Hey Harry! Let me take a guess now, you’re wearing Dudley’s clothes again!
It ground his gears every single time, along with the hatred for that phrase came hatred of Christmas carols, particularly deck the halls.
Whenever that blasted song played, he could only shout, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”
Suddenly, a mental light switched on; a twisted, malicious, hate filled grin slowly edged its way onto his face. He had a phone call to make.
A phone call and 30 minutes of planning later, in the middle of Privet Drive were 1000 gifts and 23 Christmas trees lumped into a pile.
Harry looked over the large pile before returning to his accomplice, “Thank you very much my Lunar Rose.”
His beloved girlfriend, Fleur, responded, “You are very welcome my Solar Lion. Let’s not waste any more time, it’s almost midnight, meaning it’s going to be Christmas, what better present than this?”
With renewed conviction, he kept his hands around his mouth and shouted loudly, “Hey everyone! Look outside your window, I have a surprise for you!”
From that point on, December 25, 1998 was the day that Christmas burned.