Author: BeatrixForNow
Updated: May 16, 2006
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters etc. etc. belong to J.K.Rowling.
Summary: Poetry: a view of Harry Potter's 5th year, describes mostly in sounds. Mild HPDM slash to follow, but only if you squint.
Notes: All reviews and comments are appreciated—truly. Flames will be disregarded. Enjoy.
Part One
silence
so impenetrable that breaking it
would be a gross mutilation
of the stillness that hatred's
burning creates.
-
deafening
it's there, a roar raging in your ears
as you tighten your grip
wings pulsing weakly against your fingers.
A metallic light blinds you, reflecting off your glasses
and you look
away
as the perfect sphere of gold
rolls out your palm
victory.
-
white noise
of everyone buzzes around you
a myriad of colors swish by
only supported by offered arms
and lethal heels.
-
laughter
loud and raucous, as a lithe
redhead tumbles into your arms
loosely gripping her glass
spiked.
A byproduct of the celebrations,
And you walk away.
Ginny is still laughing.
-
echoes
humming in the lofty hall
as your footsteps lead away from
the beat of the Wicked Sisters behind you.
-
pianissimo
doleful chords murmur through
the hallway
Opus 62, No. 2
You enter the small room and
stare
as a flaxen head bows over
the keyboard
and it seems that the music has been
plucked from the very
air itself, living a tune.
The head does not lift but the
music stops
reluctantly
on E sharp.
He lifts the pedal and averts his gaze,
Chopin,
he declares simply
and begins again
sadly.
Waltz in B Minor.
-
broken frenchthe faint smell of peeled newts
permeates the air of the
dank corridor
as you stride towards your weekly façade
You enter the familiar classromm;
a sharp face blazes in the fire
greasy hair and dark robes squats
in front of it.
You cough and the blonde female in the fire
scowls and mutters
while the man
spits out a string of broken French
And you find yourself wishing that you
could understand.
Even though
'Merde'
Seems pretty obvious.
