Miranda...
At slow speed we all seem focused
In motion we seem wrong
In summer we can taste the rain
Professor Flitwick sat on his mound of brightly coloured cushions at his desk in his office. He could, of course order his-size desks, he pondered. But, since Mrs Flitwick, his beautiful Miranda, ran away with most of his savings, that was out of the question. Flitwick winced, and buried his head in his hands. It was 35 years ago, to this day, and the memories still hurt.
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene
He always wanted to be a professor. At his time at Hogwarts, so long ago it was hard to remember when, he always excelled at charms. He'd remember when it was, but he burnt the yearbook. The picture of himself as Head Boy, standing next to the 4th year Miranda, who had been put in there because he had insisted the photo wouldn't be taken without her, was a painful reminder. He chuckled dryly, without emotion, remembering. , he had decided in 7th year. I want to be a Professor . Miranda wanted to travel. Flitwick wanted to stay put.
Two can play this game
We both want power
In winter we can taste the pain
On the outside, to his class and colleagues, he was a bouncy man. A little blustery, a little eccentric, but pretty much a kind little man. But to himself, talking to the picture of his Miranda he still kept on his desk, he was sad, solemn, bitter. He looked again at the picture. Miranda turned her face away.
In our short years, we come long way
To treat it bad and throw away
He remembered when they first met. He was in 5th year, she in 2nd. He was a Ravenclaw, she a young Slytherin. Although the Slytherins were cunning and sly, Miranda seemed gentle, sweet. But this was all a façade. He didn't realise it then, but this radiant, beautiful Slytherin would be his emotional downfall.
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene
They were looked upon as a 'perfect couple.' They exchanged wedding vows two years after Miranda left Hogwarts. But Miranda could not mother children. She because depressed, stubborn, angry. Flitwick remembered that morning. He had woken up, to find she was gone. There was a note on the bed. He had read it and stiffened. He threw it in their fire, where it reduced to ashes, like his life.
You won't cry, I won't scream
Since then, he vowed to forget the pain and hardship of God knows how many years of unhappy marriage he and Miranda had endured. He sold all her clothes, her books, her blankets, her pictures... save one. He looked at it. Miranda was crying too, but inconspicuously. She had her side to him, her face covered by her long dark hair, her body shaking gently. After all these years, he still longed to comfort her.
In our short years we come long way
To treat it bad and throw away
And if we make a little space
A science fiction showcase
He sought refuge at Hogwarts. He lived there, in a hidden chamber, rather like Dumbledore's quarters. He taught. Charms, he loved since first year. He remembered the first one he learnt. Wingardium Leviosa. And he remembered the one he used constantly. The Cheering Charm.
In our short film, a love disgrace
Dream a scene to brighten face
In our short years we come long way
To treat it bad, just to throw it away
He looked angrily at the picture of Miranda. With sudden violence, he slammed it face down on his desk, looked at it with guilt and straightened it up again. Miranda looked shocked, her tearstained face looked up at him. She looked away again. "It's your fault." He muttered incoherently. He looked down at his desk, lost in thought again.
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene
There was a knock at his door. It was Hermione Granger, one of his second year students. She was probably the only one to notice what came over him at the feast, when Lockhart mentioned Love Charms. A Love Charm... if only. "Umm, sir, I'm sorry to come in, but you're supposed to be teaching our class now..." She trailed off. "Right, right, be with you in a sec." Professor Flitwick's voice was hoarse. Hermione left, confused. Professor Flitwick cast a Cheering Charm on himself, grabbed several rainbow cushions, and trotted off to his second years.
You won't cry, I won't...scream...
============
At slow speed we all seem focused
In motion we seem wrong
In summer we can taste the rain
Professor Flitwick sat on his mound of brightly coloured cushions at his desk in his office. He could, of course order his-size desks, he pondered. But, since Mrs Flitwick, his beautiful Miranda, ran away with most of his savings, that was out of the question. Flitwick winced, and buried his head in his hands. It was 35 years ago, to this day, and the memories still hurt.
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene
He always wanted to be a professor. At his time at Hogwarts, so long ago it was hard to remember when, he always excelled at charms. He'd remember when it was, but he burnt the yearbook. The picture of himself as Head Boy, standing next to the 4th year Miranda, who had been put in there because he had insisted the photo wouldn't be taken without her, was a painful reminder. He chuckled dryly, without emotion, remembering. , he had decided in 7th year. I want to be a Professor . Miranda wanted to travel. Flitwick wanted to stay put.
Two can play this game
We both want power
In winter we can taste the pain
On the outside, to his class and colleagues, he was a bouncy man. A little blustery, a little eccentric, but pretty much a kind little man. But to himself, talking to the picture of his Miranda he still kept on his desk, he was sad, solemn, bitter. He looked again at the picture. Miranda turned her face away.
In our short years, we come long way
To treat it bad and throw away
He remembered when they first met. He was in 5th year, she in 2nd. He was a Ravenclaw, she a young Slytherin. Although the Slytherins were cunning and sly, Miranda seemed gentle, sweet. But this was all a façade. He didn't realise it then, but this radiant, beautiful Slytherin would be his emotional downfall.
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene
They were looked upon as a 'perfect couple.' They exchanged wedding vows two years after Miranda left Hogwarts. But Miranda could not mother children. She because depressed, stubborn, angry. Flitwick remembered that morning. He had woken up, to find she was gone. There was a note on the bed. He had read it and stiffened. He threw it in their fire, where it reduced to ashes, like his life.
You won't cry, I won't scream
Since then, he vowed to forget the pain and hardship of God knows how many years of unhappy marriage he and Miranda had endured. He sold all her clothes, her books, her blankets, her pictures... save one. He looked at it. Miranda was crying too, but inconspicuously. She had her side to him, her face covered by her long dark hair, her body shaking gently. After all these years, he still longed to comfort her.
In our short years we come long way
To treat it bad and throw away
And if we make a little space
A science fiction showcase
He sought refuge at Hogwarts. He lived there, in a hidden chamber, rather like Dumbledore's quarters. He taught. Charms, he loved since first year. He remembered the first one he learnt. Wingardium Leviosa. And he remembered the one he used constantly. The Cheering Charm.
In our short film, a love disgrace
Dream a scene to brighten face
In our short years we come long way
To treat it bad, just to throw it away
He looked angrily at the picture of Miranda. With sudden violence, he slammed it face down on his desk, looked at it with guilt and straightened it up again. Miranda looked shocked, her tearstained face looked up at him. She looked away again. "It's your fault." He muttered incoherently. He looked down at his desk, lost in thought again.
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene
There was a knock at his door. It was Hermione Granger, one of his second year students. She was probably the only one to notice what came over him at the feast, when Lockhart mentioned Love Charms. A Love Charm... if only. "Umm, sir, I'm sorry to come in, but you're supposed to be teaching our class now..." She trailed off. "Right, right, be with you in a sec." Professor Flitwick's voice was hoarse. Hermione left, confused. Professor Flitwick cast a Cheering Charm on himself, grabbed several rainbow cushions, and trotted off to his second years.
You won't cry, I won't...scream...
============