A Hogwarts Christmas Carol
Stab two: The First of Three Spirits
The clock that Malfoy did not own, and which did not hang by the fireplace, rang out 12 o'clock. Malfoy sat bolt upright in his four-poster.
"What the...?"
The bed curtains were drawn back and floating by his bed was a strange figure.
"Moaning Myrtle you pain in the arse, what the fu...?"
"Oh sure," wept the depressed ghost. "Let's all make fun of Moaning Myrtle. She has to take on a second night job as the ghost of Christmas present just to afford the rent so she can live in the u-bend in her toilet." Myrtle floated, her limp pigtails hanging as limp as the holly she wore on her limp... where was I?
"What in blazes are you talking about Myrtle? Ghosts don't pay rent!" fussed Draco.
"Sure we do now. Dumbledore's new policy. The money to pay the house-elves a higher salary has to come from somewhere. This is all the fault of the stupid mudblood Hermione Granger. 'S.P.E.W.' my transparent arse. Galleons don't grow on trees unless you live in that enchanted back alley in Beverly Hills.
"You'll have to give me the address of that back alley later. Where were we? So, let's see, you're the first spirit Crabb and Goyle told me of? Well, go away you fat dead wench." Malfoy shut the bed curtains to block out Myrtle.
Myrtle passed through the bed curtains. "Fat? Oh sure, call me fat! Fat Myrtle, why don't you fling your used skivvies at old fat Myrtle, she's..."
"Look Myrtle," said Malfoy sitting up. "I can't abide by cheery people in the wee hours of the night. So why don't you run along then, eh?"
"Oh sure, make Myrtle run off without finishing her work so she doesn't get paid and doesn't get to live in the u-bend of a toilet anymore! Ha, ha, ha, that's so funny I forgot to laugh," Myrtle floated miserably staring at Draco, big silvery transparent ghostly tears pouring down her face.
"All right, all right! What do you want?"
Myrtle looked startled that she would get to say her main line. She said almost cheerfully, "Rise and walk with me to see Christmas past."
"Kiss my supple white arse," said Draco rudely and pulled the bedclothes up over his head.
"Oh sure, ha, ha, ha! Let's tell Myrtle to kiss our arse when we know her lips would pass right through an arse! Ha, ha, very funny, Ooo see how Myrtle can't even kiss a git's stupid arse, yes let's..."
Draco uncovered his head, reached for and pulled on his dressing gown, made of deep emerald quilted satin trimmed with the belly fur from unborn Tibetan Yeti pups, stitched with gold thread, fastened by ivory buttons hand carved by unbuggered virgin sailors, with large silk tassels hanging from the hood. Draco only wore that dressing gown when he didn't care how he looked.
Malfoy said, "You stop that irritating and incessant moaning. I go with you. Deal?"
Myrtle reached out and touched Draco's nose, and said, "But the touch of your conk and you are uplifted!" Draco rose from his four-poster, screaming bloody murder and the two floated out through the dorm room window.
The world of Hogwarts melted away and they floated before a huge mansion in front of which a few dozen house-elves were participating in what only can be described as mass self-mutilation. All over the place where house-elves ironed their hands, smacked their foreheads with bedroom lamps and watched cinema featuring Madonna. The mansion and grounds were approximately the size of Orlando Disney, Paris Disney and Tokyo Disney kingdoms all pieced together into the happiest place on earth, more or less, after the happiest place on earth that we all know to be Las Vegas on a day the slots are paying.
"You recollect this over-furnished, overly expensive mansion?" inquired Myrtle sobbing.
"Remember? By Salazar's Manky Man-bits, yes I do!" squealed Draco with delight!
Myrtle and Malfoy floated through the front door of the mansion and she released Draco on his own recognizance on the front hall carpet.
"Home at Malfoy Mansion!" shouted Draco gleefully. The smaller mansion that mother had torn down and rebuilt when I was but a child!"
The two walked along the plush hall carpet, so thick their feet were not visible in the depth of the pile. They entered a massive parlor, sized like the hanger for a muggle supersonic jet. By the cavernous fireplace sat a small pale boy, dressed in a Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit. The young lace collared wizard endeavored to set fire to a cat's tail through the use of a toy wand.
Myrtle moaned, "Remember, these are but the shadows of things past. They are not aware that we are spying on them, or they'd pitch a fit. See the solitary young wizard, neglected by his parents, and left without adult supervision to torture the family pet."
Draco stood amazed, taken aback by the patheticness and early signs of wickedness in his earlier self. He giggled but only a little bit.
"Yes, Myrtle! Why that child is me as a rug rat! Left to fend for myself because Father and Mother went to the East wing of the Mansion! I was lost and so hungry I was trying to roast and eat Mother's cat!"
Moaning Myrtle's ghostly nose dripped plasma-bogeys she wiped on her sleeve. "Malfoy, why didn't the house-elves find you or at least feed you?"
"Oh, the house-elves hated my guts, wouldn't come near me. Disobedient, bulbous eyed gits. Refusing to serve me. That's why the little monsters were outside of the castle mutilating themselves.
"Let us see another Christmas," said Myrtle.
The room became darker but more luxurious. An older pale child with whitish blonde hair and of nine years sat, tiny on a massive comfy chair by the fireplace. The room held a massive Christmas tree, a giant redwood, decorated with live goblins, tied up with a riot of festive red and green ribbons. The goblins had their mouths fastened with spello tape to muffle their screaming. Massive presents lay festively wrapped, attempted to attack each other under the tree.
A tall and statuesque woman entered the room. The woman was beautiful but her nose was crinkled as though she was not quite sure if she had stepped in something smelly or not. She went to the child, who looked up at her, a sour look on his sallow face.
Myrtle spoke, "A delicate creature. Unfortunately, still alive to this day, and just as big a bitch as ever she was."
"Yeah, Ma is a right bitch all right," said Draco.
The statuesque woman spoke. "Pack your things Draco dear! You're going to visit your father!"
"Oh joy!" shrieked the younger Malfoy.
"Yes, at breakfast this morning your father was in ever so good a mood, having read that a school bus carrying 47 muggle children escorted by 14 muggle nuns and seventeen orphaned muggle kittens overturned on one of those muggle road systems. I was not sure what a bus is exactly, but your father was so happy that the muggles all perished that I was not afraid to ask him one more time if you might visit him on this festive Christmas day and he said yes!"
"Happy, happy, joy, joy!" shouted young Malfoy. To celebrate he kicked a nearby house-elf in its tiny shins.
"Thank you master! May I have another?" shouted the House-elf, rubbing its tiny bum.
"I kicked you in the shins you incompetent!" shouted Malfoy petulantly.
"Yes, Master," shouted the squeaky voiced house-elf. He jumped, rubbed his tiny shin and squealed "OWWWCCCHH!"
"That's more like it, now get lost you tea-toweled git," said the younger Draco aiming another kick at the at the house-elf.
"Do come along dear," said Mrs. Malfoy. "I've had the house-elves pack your things and lunch for you. It's a long way to the east wing and your father hates when we use floo powder. Gets soot on his favorite carpet in his den."
"Mother... if father is in such a great mood, might I actually speak to him?"
"Don't press your luck dear," said Mrs. Malfoy. "Not to put too fine a point on it, I never... um... I never exactly told your father about you. When I was pregnant he thought I was just 'letting myself go'. To this day he still thinks you are an overgrown albino goblin. But I hear there is an orphan muggle child that fell down a well in Wales and is likely to meet an unfortunate end and hence put a smile to your father's evil lips. I suspect we may be able to tell your father that you are his son and heir today. How would that be my popkins?"
"Happy, happy, joy, joy!" said Draco dancing a little jig.
The older Draco Malfoy looked at Moaning Myrtle, tears streaming down his face. "I remember the day. A nuclear plant melted in some foreign muggle country and mother not only introduced me to father, but..." tears streamed down Malfoy's pale cheeks. "I was allowed to kiss his arse. That was a proud, proud day."
"A small matter to make a small obnoxious child so happy."
"Yes," said the older Draco, drying tears as his allergies were acting up.
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