'tis the season to be simping

an xmas tomarry oneshot.

Christmas really was the most wonderful time of the year...

When he'd been unemployed.

It turned out that being a working adult around the festive period - especially in, say, a sweet shop - was actually not all snowflakes and jingle bells.

Harry groaned as he lifted the millionth box that day, containing gumballs and candy canes and whatever else was popular with the youth nowadays. Harry breathed in slowly, relishing these last few moments alone in the cool storeroom before facing the door that led to the rest of the store, a cold feeling of dread creeping up his spine. The ruckus of the outside world had been muffled with charms, and Harry intended to get as much peace as he could before being forced out into the wilderness of screaming children and hassling parents once again.

With that final breath, inhaling the sugary fumes of whatever diabetes-induced treats lay down there in the musty room, Harry shifted the weight of the box in his hands and opened the dreaded door.

The noise hit him like a tonne of bricks, so much so that Harry physically staggered at the force of it. A small child ran by, almost knocking the box from his hands, and he struggled to contain his scowl.

Christmas may have been the most wonderful time of the year when he was seven, but at 30 years old it was no more than a bother.

Yes, Harry had often wondered what he was still doing here, in Honeydukes, wearing a stupid green apron and a stupid 'Manager' badge in the middle of stupid Christmas.

He sighed to himself, but began to stock the shelves anyway, keeping one eye on the gaggle of children standing shiftily by the Pick 'N' Mix stand. One wrong move and he'd be on them.

"Hey, Harry." A voice said, and he turned his head to see Stacy, an employee, untying her apron. She eyed the heavy box in his hands with thinly veiled glee, and Harry grit his teeth.

"Hello, Stacy." He said as cheerily as he could manage, and she popped her ever-lasting bubblegum with a click. "What's up?"

"I'm going on my break now." She said, still watching the box and making absolutely no indication to try help. Harry groaned inwardly, but smiled through a clenched jaw anyway.

"Is it that time already?" A nod. Her blonde ponytail bobbed, and her lips produced yet another bubble. "Alright, well, is Ned here yet?"

Ned was the other Saturday employee, who switched with Stacy for her break. A polite but meek boy who often struggled with socialising with customers; Harry preferred him over Stacy.

"Not yet." She said nonchalantly, tucking the hideous apron under her arm. "He said he's running a little late."

Perfect. A full shop with one worker. Desperate, Harry spoke up.

"Can't you stay on shift until he gets here? The shop's packed, and I don't know if I'll be able to-"

"It's my break." Stacy cut him off, and Harry snapped his mouth shut with a glare as she walked away without another world, ponytail swishing and all.

Fucking Stacy.

Harry huffed in annoyance, setting his box down on a nearby stool to prevent the cramps from forming. A quick glance at the Pick 'N' Mix station confirmed his earlier suspicions; the kids were nowhere to be seen, and the tubs of sweets were significantly emptier. Harry rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the last few threads of patience he'd had begin to fray. He was really beginning to hate Christmas, and the shop just made things worse.

The blanketing scent of sugar and chocolate would be welcoming and nice for some, but for Harry it was suffocating, as if his lungs were clogging up with toffee and peppermint and caramel and-