I'll Be Home For Christmas

    -I'll be home for Christmas.....-

    His breath formed a cloud in front of his nose as it escaped his lips. It was cold. Very cold. His black mittens did little to protect his hands, and although his sweater was home-made, it was no match for the bitter snow. A scarf wound about his neck to keep out the wind, and every so often he'd remove his glasses to rub away the fog so he could actually see where he was going. Not that it mattered. Even when he could see the ground, the snow hid thousands upon thousands of twigs and rocks, over which he was constantly tripping.

    -You can count on me...-

    At last he made it over the last rise in the blinding blanket of frost, and he could make out the Burrow in the distance. Just as he remembered it. Unfotunately, his last few faded memories of his beloved home were none too pleasant. Of course there were the happy-go-lucky days of his childhood, but those were old like forgotten photographs, yellowed with age. No, his more recent memories were dark and angry. His Mum crying, his father yelling. The twins glaring, wanting to do much more he was sure. And the others... The others were confused, it seemed. Didn't know how to feel or think.

    -Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents 'neath the tree....-

    But that had been over a year ago, and he was ready to put the past behind him. He had already screwed up one Christmas; he wasn't about to do it again. He felt miserable, guilty, upset.... Everything was going wrong. And it was all his fault. He had refused to believe his own family, his own former Headmaster. Instead, he chose to believe the one man who couldn't have been more wrong. Not only that, but he had torn his life apart in the proccess.

    -Christmas Eve will find me, where the love lights gleam...-

    As he got closer to the Burrow, something seemed to be a bit off. The usual decorations weren't strung about the outside of the Burrow, and it appeared as if the gnomes had raided the garden more than usual. There was no smoke floating above the roof, and the lights were off, causing the windows to appear dark and gloomy. Maybe they went to bed early... It -was- getting dark out. And, well, maybe Mum was feeling a bit off.

    But as he approached the Burrow, he knew he had been telling himself lies. The house was dark, and appeared as if none had been there for months upon end. Dust was gathered on the window pane, and the weeds had overgrown the already overgrown garden. The gnomes seemed carefree and unafraid of the house. Even the twins' window, which was almost always open, was shut and locked tight.

    -I'll be home for Christmas...-

    His hand went to the knob of the front door, and he twisted it and pushed. But it was locked, just as he knew it would be. He shoved his entire body weight against the door. Didn't even budge. Shaking, he slid down against the door, landing as a crumpled heap on the cold, hard doorstep. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, Percy cried.

    -If only in my dreams.....-