'Twas the Night before Today
[ Agent Bambi ]
'Twas the night before yesterday,
Not a house elf was stirring.
Even Mrs. Norris was silent,
Without so little as purring.
The Boy Who Lived was lay dormant,
Hissing and muttering under his breath,
Something about Peter Pettigrew,
Someone was arranging his very death.
He dreamed of the Dark Lord,
And promptly sat up in his bed,
They were going to kill him;
They wanted him dead.
Clutching his throbbing scar,
He wildly looked around,
But Voldemort wasn't present,
He wasn't to be found.
He trembled with terror;
Was this a warning?
But he couldn't think now.
It wasn't yet morning.
Who could he tell?
Not Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon,
Definitely not his cousin Dudley.
Who else could he turn on?
Could he tell Dumbledore?
He imagined the note,
But he knew he'd sound stupid,
Just like a dope.
He thought of his friends,
He imagined Ron Weasley,
Then Hermione,
But their suggestions were measly.
Then finally it struck him,
Who knew lots about magic?
About Lord Voldemort,
Who'd made Harry's life tragic.
Of course, Sirius Black!
Best buddy of his dad,
He knew lots about magic,
Especially the kind that was bad.
He got out his quill,
And his parchment as well,
And wrote Sirius a letter,
Relieved he had someone to tell.
He skipped over some aspects,
Wormtail and the dream, too,
'Cause he felt ashamed,
I would, wouldn't you?
- fin -
Not part of the book:
As he looked over his poem,
He glanced down and sighed,
He felt an aching in his heart,
Because his parents had died.
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