Musings on Padfoot
By MidnightWhisper7
Disclaimer: Characters are the sole property of JK Rowling. No payment is being received for this poem.
He sits at ease
Long legs crossed underneath the desk
Leaning back on two chair legs
As though this were a game,
And not an O.W.L. examination
The girl's gaze goes unnoticed
By those cloudy gray eyes,
Slightly obscured
By hair, raven-black and gently brushing
The sharp lines of his chin
He witnesses his best friend fall in love
And fall from life
In equal bravery
Attends a wedding rushed
By the ever-growing threat
Of the Dark Lord
He becomes a godfather
Accepts the sleeping baby,
With an unknown tenderness
The black tuft of hair and narrow face
Are exactly that of his father
While the emerald gems of his eyes
Are Lily's own pride
The motorcycle
Relic of a time not yet gone,
Reminiscing on childhood trouble-making
And the carelessness of youth
But he suddenly ages ten years
When he sees the Dark Mark
Lingering over the Potters' house
Godric's Hollow,
A shattered past
And a baby sleeping
In the arms of a gentle giant
He is refused this one comfort
To care for this tiny infant,
Last memory of his best friend
Wormtail
A rat in more than name
A faked death,
Falsely accused
His laughter is bitter
He has no more to lose
Prisoner
In his own mind
He needs no cage to contain him
Only a tiny hope, innocence
His smile fades away,
Leaving no trace
Of a past not yet forgotten
Revenge
Cold hearts never burnt
With such blazing fury
The rat will be his
If only for the memory
Of betrayal
Redemption, of a sort
Harry's trust releases him
From twelve years of emptiness
The boy is more like his father
Than he'll ever know
Trapped again
In the house of his childhood
Facing old demons
And closet skeletons
He left this place for a reason
And ma is such great company
Freedom
Somehow he always knew
He'd go down fighting
His spirit is too fierce to be contained
Upon mortal earth
But still alive
In the memories of those he left behind
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