II
AUTHOR, ARE YOU QUITE SANE?
No!
Yes!
No!
Guess! Or get ready for the show.
And never read the Sonnets of a Sorcerer! Cool book; that author, though—he's a crook!
Writing helps. Writing badly helps more, but—oh boy—doing this was sometimes a chore.
But don't worry, I'm probably fine. So just sit tight and enjoy my plight.
For they almost escaped me this time, o dear reader of mine. But this tale was just too sweet not to tell: the delightful and happy story of Harry Potter and Katie Bell.
It took them long enough to finally sort that out; long enough that I wanted to shout: "Harry, you midwit!"—"Katie, why don't you just admit it?!"
So I'll not torture you very much … just a bit. And then you'll want more, you'll see. I think you'll agree with me that stories like this—while not trendy or new—are very pleasant to read through.
There are some differences here and there to the stories you already know—I hope, however, that you do not find my characterisation unfair; this is surprisingly a rare pair; it is a cute one, though—which is why I write this: to tell stories of precious friends, of fast brooms, of hidden rooms, of charming story-ends.
Like the songs and the fairy tales: of little Prongs and that girl from Wales. And at the end, if you—like me— feel a bit sad, do not worry. Those two are just a tad mad that I would not be surprised if in a hurry, they just manage to spring up on another adventure still—they were always fond of that danger thrill.
It is not possible, after all, to be both sane and play a game that has a ball especially designed to make you fall, and break a rib or two—or the whole of you!
Tis' but a glimpse of the hijinks of our favourite Quidditch crew.
Tis' the story of the Seeker and the Magic Snitch; of Harry and his Golden Witch.
Notes:
Thank you for reading. I appreciate any and all feedback.