Merry Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Slytherin house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The cauldron was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the Race Car Driver soon would be there.

The Slytherins were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-snakes danced in their heads.
And Girle in her robes and wizarding cap,
Could not settle down for a long winter’s nap.

The coffee she drank from her pumpkin cup was the matter,
Sugary donughts and caffeine made her mad as a hatter.
Malabrigo consoled her, her needles did flash,
Till she saw movement from the window and threw open the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature race car, with a pit crew and gear.

A black and gold paint job! And a number "31" - she was certain!
She knew right away it was her dear Jeff Burton.
More rapid than 750 horsepower he came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called her by name!

"Now Girlie I know you've been waiting for me!
And I have brought something I'd like you to see!"
And then, in a twinkling, she heard in the hall,
Jeff Burton and pit crew and race car and all.

As she drew in her head, and was turning around,
Down the Dungeon stairs the Race Car Driver came with a bound.
He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with road dirt and soot.

A case of champagne he had flung on his back,
And he looked love starved as he gazed at her rack.
Then his face lit up with that boyish grin,
And Girlie said, "Well, don't just stand there, come on in!"

...then several hours later...

He ran to his car, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and thanks for a good night!"