Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and no offense is meant to any piece of fan fiction that have used the cliches I've parodied.
2. Harry's Magic Trunk
I.
The Dark Lord was on the ascent
And Sirius Black was dead;
These were the only thoughts that swum around
In Harry Potter's head.
He realized he was woefully untrained
For the trials yet to come,
Caught between a rock and hard place,
He could depend on no one.
Then the answer came to him,
Like a bolt from the blue -
He needed to get a magic trunk
And a good spell book or two!
II.
Diagon Alley was completely filled
With witches and wizards,
Yelling their wares and chanting spells,
Shoving Fortescue's down their gizzards.
But Harry paid them no heed;
Into Tilbert's Trunks he went,
The bad alliteration didn't end there
As Tolly Tilbert gave his name.
"Bring me a trunk!" said Harry,
Jiggling his bag of coins –
A sound which had the strangest effect
On Tolly Tilbert's loins.
At once the shopkeeper became,
Servile and eager to please,
He oiled Harry up and fed him a sob story or two,
And for good measure, added some more grease.
And so young Potter finally bought,
The Trunk of Magical Trunks,
'Tis was the perfect thing for his life,
'Tis was no piece of junk!
It came armed with countless chambers,
And a pocket dimension or four,
For him to escape and learn his spells
When he could take the Dursleys no more.
And since other worlds of the mirror sort,
Lay out of Wizarding Law's reach,
Harry could whip out his wand – not that one –
And spells himself teach.
And the rooms – oh, the rooms!
Things of magnificence were they.
Hearing about them, Harry
Could barely keep his wandering mind to stay.
There were the bedrooms, with opulent beds,
And an attached bathroom with each,
A dresser, with clothes of every colour,
All of the finest stitch!
A library stocked with books
Of every different sort –
And a kitchen, a study and even a cellar
Filled with racks of wine and port.
A potions lab, of course,
For him to learn to brew,
With six tall hoops, a quidditch pitch,
Lined with trees of yew.
There was even a gym,
Filled with equipment of every kind,
And a meditation room with a zen pool,
For him to train his mind.
Wonder of wonders, there was a TV room,
Even though TV's shouldn't work,
But suspend your belief for this was a magical trunk
Of the most magical-est sort!
And of course, there was the duelling pad,
Filled with dummies for him to curse,
And in case he ever got hurt,
There was a really hot wooden nurse.
Let's not forgot the house elves,
At his every beck and call,
And the Hungarian Horntail hidden away,
To guard his mountain of gold.
And then there was the armoury,
With swords and even guns,
Even though he'd never used one before,
He'd master them all for fun.
There was the rocket launcher,
If he needed to fight the DE's -
And the USS Enterprise docked in one corner,
Was always the best bet to flee.
There was the port and bay,
And the hotel in the sea,
And even a strip club and a casino
For when Harry hit seventeen.
Oh yes it was a brilliant trunk,
It was the object of his dreams,
With it he could become truly great,
So Voldemort's ass he'd cream!
But how much did this cost him?
I'm sure, is the question on your mind.
A cool two million galleons, yessiree!
With a celebrity discount of five.
Never mind that it was more money,
Then all Purebloods could bring together,
This was fanfiction, and the economy,
Could change with the weather.
Besides, he could afford to splurge,
This was as good as it got,
His key to defeating Voldemort,
With his own blood to open the lock!
III.
And when his other friends saw it,
They were mighty impressed,
Ron was really a bit jealous,
But Ginny's pants were strangely wet.
Only Hermione turned and frowned,
And then posed the query,
"If you had so much money to burn,
Why not buy a house, Harry?"
Miss Granger's body was never found,
Ron Weasley never came out of his funk –
Her body lay forever,
In one corner of Harry's trunk.
