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2016-12-20
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The Worst Best Christmas

Summary:

Starts lighthearted, ends dark and angsty. Harry is in Primary Two and they are putting on a nativity at school. But something is amiss when an elf appears outside the school fence. There is some violence and someone dies, but not an established character, and I don't think enough to warrant an archive warning.

Work Text:

This had been Harry’s very best year ever. Well since the end of the summer holidays anyway. He had turned five sometime over the summer, he wasn’t quite sure when, and he had started Primary Two. And that was when his very best year had started. Because Miss Lovelace, who taught Primary Two, didn’t believe in difficult children. And Miss Lovelace didn’t put up with bullies or let people tell her what to do. And Miss Lovelace always made sure Harry and Dudley were in different groups on different sides of the classroom. And when she caught Dudley or any of the other children being mean or unfair she always did something about it.

Not like last year where Mrs Dovey got Dudley in trouble once, then Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came to school to talk to Mrs Dovey, and Mrs Dovey just sighed and looked the other way after that.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had come to the school to talk to Miss Lovelace in September and they had come away very very angry, and if anything Miss Lovelace had been even nicer to Harry ever since then, and even firmer with Dudley. Dudley had been sent to the Headmaster eight times, it had been brilliant.

Of course Harry still had to look after himself in the playground, but if Miss Lovelace was on duty she kept a special eye on Dudley so sometimes even there he got a break. She didn’t even mind if Harry didn’t have his homework done, as long as he did it quickly once he got into class, or sometimes she let him sit in class during playtime and do it, which was even better.

And Miss Lovelace had asked him if he would like to play Joseph in the school nativity, which had made him feel warm and big and worried and anxious all at the same time. So he had said no thank you very much but please could he maybe play a part that didn’t have any words. So Harry was playing the donkey that carried Mary to Bethlehem. And he was going to do his very best at it, to make Miss Lovelace proud.

Dudley was playing King Herod, and Aunt Petunia had made him a very fancy costume. Much better than any of the Three Wise Men’s who were also supposed to be Kings. Dudley’s crown had loads of shiny plastic jewels on it, he had a cloak made of real velvet, and he had a gold painted stick called a sceptre that he used to prod people when Miss Lovelace wasn’t looking. But he only had two lines and he mostly had to sit quietly in the back row, because he was one of the biggest children in their class.

Harry had lots to do, and even though he couldn’t practice at home for real, he had practised in his head loads and loads so he would remember all of it.

Harry wasn’t really sure he understood what the nativity was for, but he thought he could understand being a donkey. Donkeys carried things like when he helped Aunt Petunia around the house, and lived in a little stall that was a bit like a cupboard, and ate leftovers and straw. Harry didn’t eat straw, but he did eat leftovers. When he was pretending to carry Mary to Bethlehem the rest of the class sang a really nice song all about him that talked about having to keep going and carrying a heavy load and not giving up and it was pretty and kind of sad as well, but in a nice way.

Harry wasn’t very good at singing, he thought maybe cause he couldn’t practise that at home without getting in trouble. Mind you Dudley practised the songs at home loads and he was still awful, and very loud. Miss Lovelace kept suggesting that perhaps Dudley might sing quieter, but he never did. He screamed the lyrics until his face went bright red and the girl sitting in front of him covered her ears. Despite this Aunt Petunia kept telling him he had a lovely voice, and Uncle Vernon seemed impressed by the extreme volume Dudley could produce.

Dudley thought it was hilarious that Harry was playing a donkey, and kept trying to make him bray and ride him around the house until Harry hid so he couldn’t do it any more. But Harry didn’t care, because Miss Lovelace said he was the best donkey she had ever seen. And when Dudley stood up to do his bit during practice she always got a kind of weary look on her face. Dudley kept trying to add new lines to make his speech longer.

It was the second last day of school before the holidays and the performance was this evening. Harry was in the playground in his hiding corner. Not many kids came down this end of the playground during wintertime because of the cold wind that whistled round the corner of the garages just outside the wire fence. Harry had found that if he came down here and wished really hard people tended not to find him. It was very cold though, and Harry was crouched down with his baggy jumper pulled over his knees. He didn’t have a coat at the moment because Dudley had taken it last week and thrown it into a tree.

Harry was practising being a donkey in his head. Remembering his cue, following the pattern he had to walk around the stage, remembering where he was supposed to sit once they were in the stable…

“Pssst,” said a very quiet, high voice.

Harry opened his eyes quickly and glanced around. He couldn’t see anyone. Maybe it was just the wind making a funny noise.

He closed his eyes again and thought about the song that they sang in the stable, he started to sing it very quietly under his breath, “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed...”

“Psssst,” said something, louder this time.

His eyes shot open again and he fell back from his crouch and landed on his bottom on the cold ground. “Who’s there?”

“Down here,” said the voice.

Harry looked in the direction it came from and nearly fell over again, except he was already fallen over, so there was nowhere left to go.

There was an elf on the other side of the fence, peering through. It had elf ears, and it was shorter even than he was, and it was wearing a funny green thing that looked a bit like a pillowcase with holes cut in it.

“You’re an elf!” said Harry.

“That’s right, sir,” said the elf.

“Did you come from Santa Claus?” asked Harry.

“Um… that’s right,” said the elf. “He… he wants to talk to you. Look there’s a hole in the fence right here, you can crawl through and I’ll take you to him.”

Harry looked at the hole, then back at the elf. “We’re not supposed to go outside of school on our own,” he said.

The elf looked anxious, and began twisting it’s ears. “Just for a minute,” it said. “Won’t take long at all, no one would even know.” It glanced over it’s shoulder.

Harry looked in that direction too, but he couldn’t see anything that looked like Santa Claus. Just the back of the shop on the next street over and the alley that ran between them. “What does he want to talk to me for?”

“It’s a secret,” said the elf. “A very important secret.”

Harry frowned. Miss Lovelace had told them a lesson last month about not keeping secrets and that a grown up shouldn’t ask you to keep secrets or to go away with them on your own… but this wasn’t a grown up, it was an elf. She hadn’t mentioned whether elves were okay or not.

He was about to ask another question when the bell rang for the end of break.

“I have to go now, maybe Santa could tell me the secret later?” he said, scrambling to his feet and untangling his jumper. “Bye.”

He ran back to the school quickly, cause he was a long way away from the door, and didn’t see the elf fall to the ground face first and pound it’s little hands and feet in frustration.

They didn’t go home at all at the end of the day, because the nativity was at 4pm. So Harry didn’t have any chance to find out what Santa Claus wanted yet. Maybe he could sneak into the garden this evening and see if the elf was there.

Uncle Vernon had taken special time off work to come and see Dudley perform. Standing on tiptoe and peering through the window in the door to the Assembly Hall, Harry could see him and Aunt Petunia sitting in the front row. Harry was at the front for going in because he was one of the smallest in his class and they were going in order of height. Which was good because then Dudley was nearly at the back of the queue, nowhere near him.

Miss Lovelace had brought him a donkey outfit that zipped up the front and covered him up almost completely, except his face which was visible through a hole just under the donkeys nose. He was hoping that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia might not recognise him at all if he kept his head down. Though since Dudley had made such a big fuss about how Harry was playing a stupid donkey, he supposed they would know it was him.

“All right, children,” said Miss Lovelace quietly. “When I hold the door open start filing in, the choir will be singing and you can sing along too if you want to. Remember, it’s ‘the holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown’.”

Harry nodded his head eagerly, although actually he didn’t really know that one very well. He had concentrated on his moves and on learning Away in a Manger. But he wanted Miss Lovelace to know that he understood and he was ready and he would do everything right.

He heard the piano begin to play, and the recorders being played by some of the older children, and the choir, which was Primary Three, start to sing the song. Miss Lovelace pushed open the door and held it for them as they walked in to take their places in three rows sitting on one side of the stage. Mary and the angel Gabriel led the way on as they were on first. By the time they got to the last verse of the three they were singing they had all sat down.

“The playing of the merry organ, sweet singing in the choir.”

Harry wondered again what a merry organ was, it sounded nice.

Now that the choir and the music was silent he could hear Aunt Petunia in the front row whispering, “Duddykins, darling. Mummy and Daddy are here.” As if Dudley couldn’t see them, they were right in the middle of the front row with several parents having to peer around them to see anything. Uncle Vernon had a large camera sat on his lap.

Miss Lovelace had crouched down at the front, about a metre in front of Uncle Vernon, and she was gesturing silently to Mary to stand up.

Mary and the Angel Gabriel came and stood in the middle of the stage and in a very loud voice the boy playing Gabriel announced, “The angel Gabriel from heaven came! His wings were drifty snow his eyes was flames!” He glared around the audience impressively, looking quite scary. Mary shifted from foot to foot behind him. He grabbed Mary by the arm and tugged her forward and glared at her. She looked like she might burst into tears. “Mary! A Mother you will be!” he bellowed into her face. “The Holy Spirit will come and you will give birth to a son and call him Jesus and he will be the son of God!” He let her go and glared at the audience some more.

Mary staggered back a bit and also turned to face the audience silently, her eyes large and damp.

Miss Lovelace gestured to Gabriel, who was being played by a boy called Barnaby who had decided he was going to be an actor when he grew up, to get off the stage, but Barnaby ignored her and glared at the audience for a further several seconds before spinning around impressively and taking the long way around the stage back to his seat.

In the meantime Joseph had stood up and tiptoed towards Mary and taken her hand. She clung to it gratefully.

“We must go to Bethlehem where I am from,” said Joseph quickly. “We must go there and be counted even though my wife is about to give birth.”

Miss Lovelace gestured to Harry and he scrambled quickly to his feet and went to stand next to Mary. They stood there in silence for a minute until Miss Lovelace began mouthing some words at them.

Mary finally spoke. “I will ride on this donkey,” she said very very quietly. Normally Danielle, who was playing Mary, was very loud and confident in her lines, but for some reason she seemed like a completely different person now all the parents were watching.

The piano began to play and Harry took Danielle's sweaty hand and began to lead her around the stage, with Joseph following behind them.

“Little donkey, little donkey,” sang the rest of his class. He could hear Dudley bellowing out of tune at the top of his lungs, purposefully singing the wrong words in places. “Bring out your farts tonight, Bethlehem, Bethlehem. Follow that arse tonight, Bethlehem, Bethlehem.”

Miss Lovelace made her weary face, but Harry ignored him, he was used to ignoring Dudley, and plodded onward with his heavy load. It was a lot hotter than usual now that he had the donkey costume on, and Harry could feel sweat trickling down the side of his forehead as if he really was carrying something heavy.

As they sang “Bethlehem’s in sight.” Harry came to a stop at the corner of the stage, facing the middle.

As the story went on Harry got hotter and hotter. Jesus was born and a different and less terrifying angel told the shepherds about him. They came to the stable and they all sang Away in a Manger, and Harry heard Uncle Vernon muttering about when Dudley was coming on.

Then the Wise Men stood up and the Primary Three’s sang We Three Kings of Orient Are with Dudley accompanying them by singing “One in a taxi, one in a car, one on a scooter blowing his hooter.” He was so pleased with himself about it that he forgot to stand up when it was his cue and Miss Lovelace had to audibly hiss, “King! Herod!”

Dudley and his two friends Piers and Malcolm, who were playing his guards, stood up and pushed through the rows in front of them to get out, treading on several people in their way.

Harry heard Aunt Petunia say, “My Duddikins!”

Dudley stomped to the front of the stage and struck a pose. “I am King Herod!” he said loudly, and then a large flash went off and blinded everyone on the stage. Uncle Vernon had taken a photograph. Dudley blinked slowly and gaped for a moment in surprise.

“Bring me...” mouthed Miss Lovelace.

“Bring me the Wise Men,” demanded Dudley. And Piers and Malcolm went and manhandled the three Wise Men over to Dudley rather more roughly than was necessary. One of them actually fell onto his knees when he was shoved into place.

Uncle Vernon took another photograph, and Miss Lovelace turned around and hissed, “No! Flash! Photography!”

Harry pretended he was a donkey and that he didn’t know who Dudley or Uncle Vernon were. But he was very very warm now and starting to feel a bit sick.

“When you find the baby Jesus, bring him to me!” said Dudley threateningly.

Aunt Petunia burst into spontaneous applause, she was so thrilled. Dudley grinned and waved at his parents.

“When I get Jesus I will kill him!” Dudley declared, unscripted.

Aunt Petunia cooed and clapped.

“I will stab him with a sword!” shouted Dudley, miming the action. “I will kill him and I will kill Mary and Joseph too! With swords and knives!”

At the back near Harry, clinging to her plastic baby, Mary started crying.

Finally Miss Lovelace, who had been gesturing and hissing with increasing vehemence, actually stood up and pushed Dudley back towards his place with the class. Which took some doing as she was quite slight and Dudley was very solid for a five year old.

The Wise Men continued on their way and while the audience were distracted with all the gift giving, Harry took a moment to shove his donkey head back and wipe the sweat off his face, as it was making his glasses slip off his nose.

As he resettled his glasses and reached behind him to tug his head back into place, someone behind Uncle Vernon shouted out, “It’s him! See! It’s Harry Potter! In the donkey suit!”

Harry froze and looked out into the darkened audience, his donkey head hood still only halfway up.

There was a further kerfuffle in the audience, but all he could see was Uncle Vernon stood up and glaring behind him, while Aunt Petunia sat facing forward, her face bright pink and her eyes furious.

Not sure what to do Harry just sat there, terrified that he was about to get into trouble, but not understanding at all what might be happening.

Miss Lovelace had turned back to face them and was gesturing them to continue. Yet another angel appeared from out of the rows of children by the stage and warned them all not to go near King Herod, but to go home a different way. That was Harry’s cue, along with everyone else, to stand up and process off the stage and then back on again for the final song.

As they filed around the shadowy back of the stage a hand grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck and yanked him behind a curtain before he could so much as protest.

At first Harry thought it must be Uncle Vernon, angry at him about the person in the audience. But as he was tugged on through a door and outside he realised that the person pulling him was much thinner and taller than Uncle Vernon.

“Where are we going?” he gasped. The costume was cutting into his neck because he was being pulled by the back of it. They were outside around the back of the school, in a small fenced off area that he had never been in before. The figure threw Harry toward the fence.

“Crawl under it,” they demanded.

Harry looked and saw there was a bit of a hole under the fence where the ground dipped down. It looked like maybe he could just about fit through it if he went on his tummy.

He looked back at the stranger. “We’re not supposed to go alone with strangers,” he said. “And we’re not supposed to go out of the school without a grown up, and I’m supposed to stand on the stage and sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas.”

“But we’re not strangers,” said the figure, leaning down to him. “You’re Harry Potter, see, I know you. So we’re not strangers.”

“But I don’t know you,” said Harry, confused.

“I was a friend of your parents, a very good friend of your parents. Now crawl under the fence, there’s a Christmas present for you on the other side.”

“My parents?” said Harry, amazed. “You… you knew my Mum and Dad?”

“Didn’t I just say so? Now hurry up.”

“What were they like?”

The figure clenched his fists in frustration. “I promise to tell you all about them once we get to your present, but you have to go under the fence first.”

Harry looked at the gap again. “Are you coming under the fence too?” he asked. “Will you fit?”

“Don’t you worry about me,” said the figure.

And then suddenly the elf from earlier appeared outside the fence.

“Come through the fence, sir,” it said. “Santa Claus is waiting with a present for you.”

“Are you friends with Santa Claus,” Harry asked the figure. “Why does he want to see me?”

“You’ve been very good this year,” growled the figure. “Now through you go.”

Harry wasn’t sure he liked the figure, he seemed kind of angry. But if he had been sent by Santa Claus he supposed he must be a good person really. And it would be nice to get a present this year, he hardly ever got a present for Christmas because he wasn’t ever good enough. He looked back towards the school, he was missing the final song and the bows. But he couldn’t really go back in now when it was already in the middle of it. He hoped Miss Lovelace wouldn’t be angry with him. He stepped toward the fence.

“Harry!” called a voice from behind them.

Harry turned back around, it was Miss Lovelace.

“Harry, who are you with?”

“I’m Harry’s Uncle,” said the figure.

“No you’re not,” said Harry immediately.

“Salazar!” said the figure and ran unexpectedly at Miss Lovelace, grabbing her around the neck and covering her mouth even as they kicked the door she had come through closed again.

Harry shouted out in shock, the man was hurting Miss Lovelace. He forgot all about the hole in the fence and the elf on the other side and ran toward where the man and Miss Lovelace were struggling.

“Get off her! Get off her!” Harry shouted, kicking at the man’s shins.

“Just kill her,” someone shouted from beyond the fence.

“How?” gasped the man. “I can’t do any bloody magic on the school grounds can I!”

Harry’s cheeks were wet with tears, and his fists were starting to hurt from battering them ineffectually against the man. “Let her go!” he howled.

“Shove her under the fence,” said the woman outside. “She’s a skinny thing, I’ll do it once she’s under.”

“No!” said the man, “Pull her under, but don’t kill her.” He began to drag Miss Lovelace over to the fence, with Harry at his heels trying to slow him down.

“Why...”

“Just do as I say!” He shoved Miss Lovelace head first down against the hole in the fence and whoever was on the other side grabbed her by the hair and began to pull her under. Harry grabbed onto her legs and tried to pull her back, but all that happened was he got pulled along after her. With the man on this side tugging the fence upward to make the hole bigger, Harry had to let go as a squealing, crying Miss Lovelace was pulled all the way through.

“No,” wept Harry, sat in the dirt. “No you’re bad. You’re not from Santa. You’re bad.”

“That’s right,” said the man. “We’re bad, and if you don’t climb under that fence we’ll kill your teacher. You don’t want that do you?”

“No!” cried Harry. “Don’t kill Miss Lovelace!”

“Then crawl under the fence and we won’t.”

“Harry, don’t...” he heard Miss Lovelace say, but then her voice was muffled and he couldn’t hear her any more.

“Do it!” demanded the man.

Crying and gulping, Harry went down on his hands and knees to climb under the fence after Miss Lovelace. The fence caught on his donkey head and he got stuck with only his head and shoulders through. The man on his side was struggling with the hood when there was a flash of light from a way off.

“Expelliarmus!” shouted someone far away.

Suddenly there was lot’s of shouting and flashes of light and more words Harry didn’t recognise. The man behind him was swearing and trying to shove Harry under the fence, but nothing he did seemed to move him any further.

He heard a scream and then one of the flashes of light hit him in the face and everything went black.

The boy lay against the wall, his donkey costume a bit torn where it had been caught on the fence.

The old man with the long beard looked down at him sadly where he lay, asleep on the grass.

He waved his wand over the boy, repairing the costume, and then saying quietly, “Obliviate.” Then he picked him up and took him back inside.

--

“How much do you think he saw, Albus?” asked the woman waiting in his office for him.

“Too much,” answered Albus Dumbledore. “I had to obliviate him.”

“And how did you explain his absence? And his teacher...”

“Do not fret, Minerva. I know this evening came as a shock, but all is well, or as well as it can be. I thought it best if Miss Lovelace left a message on the school telephone, explaining that she received an unexpected message about an emergency at home. We cannot remove all memory of her from so many people. She will send a letter in a week’s time, resigning and explaining that she has had to move home unexpectedly.”

“And the body? What about her family?”

The old man covered his eyes for a moment in sorrow. “It will be found in a month’s time by the Muggle police, having appeared to have only died a few days before that. Her family will believe they have seen her within that time. Harry will never hear about it, he will simply think his teacher has moved away. Mundungus is dealing with it.”

“You trust him with it?”

“For this, yes.”

“And Harry?”

“Harry fell over something backstage and bumped his head, in the dark nobody noticed. The school nurse checked him over, he will be quite all right aside from a bit of a bruise.”

“Thank Godric for Arabella Figg, getting that message to us,” said Minerva, shaking her head. “But I don’t understand how they even found him. He’s supposed to be safe there.”

“An unfortunate series of coincidences. A very distant relative of one of Harry’s schoolmates came to stay in Little Whinging for a week, a distant relative who happened to be a squib and who was familiar with the story of Harry Potter. He recognised Harry’s scar and told his brother, who as it turns out was working towards becoming a Death Eater before the end of the last war. They couldn’t touch him when he was in Privet Drive, or within the grounds of his school, or when he was with his Aunt or cousin. So they planned to lure him out of the school.”

“To do what?”

“It no longer matters, I obliviated all involved after I had finished questioning them. It was a small plot of only three people and one house elf. It will not happen again. I have placed wards around Little Whinging to alert us to any witch or wizard or squib entering the area.”

“Well, if you are sure.”

“I am certain, go and rest, it has been an unpleasant evening for all.”

The woman left the office and the old man remained seated in his chair staring off into the distance.

Miss Lovelace wasn’t at school on their last day. Instead the Head Teacher watched them as they played board games and did quizzes.

Danielle gave Harry a Christmas card, and Harry put it in his school bag before Dudley could see it. But in the end it didn’t matter because Dudley stuck his bag in the sink and filled it with water while Ms Alderman was taking Peter to the toilet cause he felt sick from eating too many sweets.

He didn’t know exactly how, but he knew Miss Lovelace would never have let that happen.

He hadn’t seen Miss Lovelace after the nativity yesterday either, he had bumped his head backstage and had to go to the nurse and then Aunt Petunia had come to get him and she had been really angry about the man who had shouted his name and taken them all home straight away.

Uncle Vernon had asked Harry over and over in the car, “How did that man know your name, eh? What have you been up to?”

Harry had just said he didn’t know and obediently got into his cupboard when they got home and heard the bolts click shut on the other side. He wasn’t really hungry anyway cause they had been given a mince pie at the end of class and he still felt a bit queasy from bumping his head.

He had still been wearing his donkey costume, but Aunt Petunia had told him to give it back to the school today. So he had.

He had wanted to wish Miss Lovelace a Merry Christmas before it was the holidays. So at the end of class he slipped over to her desk and pushed a bit of paper onto it, hoping that she might come in before Christmas and see it. On it he had drawn a donkey and a Christmas tree and written in clumsy red pencil,

‘Merry Christmas Miss Lovelace love from Harry
Thank you for beeing nice!’