Fire and Buttons
Buttons. That was my favourite word for a long while.
I named my first teddy bear Buttons. And the teddy bear after that as well.
My mother was always sewing on buttons that had fallen off the coat of my father, but mine never came off. I looked after them well.
Buttons were what held my clothes together.
When a boy in school tore a button off my shirt and took it, I cried. I wrote a poem about my dear little button:
Button oh button, oh where hath thou fled?
Did thee tarry too long amongst fabric and thread?
Did thee roll off my bosom and cease to exist?
How I wish I could follow thee into the mist!
I threw the shirt out, but not before I had carefully taken the other buttons and out them in a bag around my neck.
When I met Lily Evans, she was a Button Superior. She held my life together. Buttons, even with their beauty and power, were nothing to her.
She was fire.
Fire became my favourite word after I met her, and for the rest of my life so it shall remain.
Lily was the fire in my soul, and the buttons for my life.
When she died, it was like my soul was a frozen wasteland, and my first thought was:
Who's going to hold me together now?
A/N: yes, I took the poem about the button from Potter Puppet Pals… but again without shame. :) I couldn't resist.
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