A Poem for Harry
Raise up your goblets to the hero of our age,
a raven haired hero you'd hate to enrage,
since the day he entered the Magical School of the best,
he looked upon evil as a personal quest.
First year his heart was fresh and anew,
he learnt of his parents and a world he never knew.
the world was impressed that a first year can stand
to capture a stone from a mirror,
to make him all the dearer,
with his own bare hand.
Second year for himcame a threat to our lives,
for a mysterious creature slithered behind the stone walls,
the student's feared of him when they learnt of his skill,
but yet he defeated a basilisk with only a sword still.
Third year obvious and plain to see,
that the dark of his past weighed on him crudely,
when dementors of Azkaban brought him sadness,
he used his wand tobravely conjure a Patronus.
Fourth year had puzzled Harry the most,
for he unexpectedly was a candidate of the Tournament,
as worried and anxious as he might have been,
he succeeded the final task as first.
Fifth year was the fated day we met,
for I greatly admired his bravery from afar,
as we traveled with thestrals to the Ministry on a mission,
His courage displayed was quite bizzarre.
Sixth year was the end of Harry's school years,
I must admit I will miss him to tears,
with Dumbledore gone he endured so much;
Thus, we praise Harry's greatness throughout the years.
On the bottom of the poem, a pale hand scribbled a signature: Luna Lovegood.