It was a Dark and Stormy Night…
It was a dark and stormy night--or so the prefects say--
And lightning striking constantly transformed the night to day
The thunder roared the castle round--or thusly runs the tale--
And rising from the Northeast Tower there came a fearful wail.
It was no beast nor banshee that, the students there knew well,
Nor prisoner in agony, nor demon trapped by spell,
No ghost that moaned in penance, nor soul in mortal fright--
'Twas just Professor Rowe "singing"--for she practiced every night
The Professor was convinced that she should have been born a Bard
And thus she made the lives of students in her classes hard.
For they must listen to her sing, and smile at what they heard,
And swear she had a golden voice that rivaled any bird
The Professor was convinced that she had hired 'neath her class
And so the worst lot fell upon the staff's ears of glass
Not only must the staff each night endure her every song
But suffer silent her abuse, be blamed for every wrong
It was a dark and stormy night--or so the staff aver--
And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir
When suddenly the "music" ceased; so when dawn raised his head
Within the Tower house-elves found the Professor stiff and dead.
The Ministry of Magic came at once to judge if there had been foul play
They questioned all most carefully to hear what they would say.
And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light--
That every moment of the staff was vouched for on that night.
The students and house-elves by ones and twos came forward on their own
To swear the staff had never once that night been all alone.
So though the Tower had been locked tight, with a bunch of keys to the door,
One hers, one for each other staff member; the staff of guilt was plain absolved for sure.
At length the Ministry then pronounced her death as "suicide"
And all within the country voiced themselves quite satisfied.
It was a verdict, after all, that none wished to refute--
Although no one could imagine why she'd try to eat her lute.