The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Round 3

Title: Poetry for the Soul

Team: Falmouth Falcons

Position: Keeper - Bragi "The God of Poetry" (Norse): Write about someone reciting a poem or verse during an important/major scene in your story.

Word Count: 1,536

Warning for canon prejudice and extreme one-sided Jegulus fluff. I hope you all enjoy Poetry for the Soul.


Poetry. Ever since Regulus had been old enough to read he'd had a true love of poetry. He didn't understand where it came from. He didn't understand why he didn't love any other form of prose. It was just a fact that he'd known for what felt like forever.

A loud chorus of raucous laughter made him look across the lake to where his brother Sirius and his friends were fooling around, balancing on the limb of a tree that extended over the lake. He shook his head as his eyes wandered from Sirius to him.

James Potter. He could feel the flush cross his face as he watched the raven-haired boy in his actions. He couldn't pinpoint when he'd started to grow feelings for James Potter, but he knew he had them. He just didn't know how to express them, so he turned to poetry.

He could more easily express the things he didn't know how to express through poetry than anything else. So, looking up towards where James and his friends were, Regulus put quill to paper.

He wrote, and he wrote and he wrote some more. Closing his eyes every so often and thinking of his muse he continued writing. A few minutes into his next poem, he noticed that everything had gone quiet. He looked at his watch and mentally cursed himself.

He raced toward his Muggle Studies course knowing he would be five minutes late if he didn't hurry. He raced through the school hallways coming across his brother and friends strolling along.

"Run, Reg, run!" Sirius called after him, laughter coloring his words.

Regulus didn't know how his brother, James, and their friends got around the school as fast as they did. He sure as hell wished he did at moments like this.

Of all the times to get lost in my writing, I choose the moment before Professor Plum's class.

Regulus looked towards the open classroom and then at his watch. Was he going to get lucky and make it before class started? He put on an extra burst of speed and skidded into the classroom as the Professor was closing the door.

"Cutting it close, aren't we, Mister Black?" asked the bespectacled young blonde man, tucking his thumbs in the pockets of his tweed jacket.

"Sorry, Professor Plum," Regulus said, taking his seat next to something or other Diggory. "It won't happen again."

Professor Plum, who looked like he was old enough to be a student here and not a teacher, shook his head and closed the door. He walked to the front of the room, picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the blackboard.

Poetry.

"Can anyone tell me what this word means?" the young Professor requested of his class, looking around each of the younger faces in front of him. "Anyone?"

Regulus wracked his mind for the right answer. He didn't know what poetry meant in the Muggle world. Did it mean the same thing there as in wizarding contexts?

"Is it a sort of spell?" asked Nott from the back of the classroom, causing the rest of the class to burst into a fit of laughter.

Professor Plum shook his head. He then made a strange sound with his mouth that he claimed was a buzzer sound. "Thank you for playing, Mr. Nott," the professor told him. "Does anyone else have a guess as to what this could be?"

"A way to express one's self," Regulus mumbled under his breath, not thinking that anyone could hear him, let alone his professor.

"Could you repeat that louder, Mr. Black, for the rest of the class to hear?"

Regulus looked around, his face going a slight pink. He knew he must look like a deer that had been caught by a Muggle hunter or in those, what did they call them, headlights.

"Yes, you, Mr. Black."

"I just said that poetry was a way for a person to express themselves," Regulus said, wishing he wasn't the center of attention once more in this class.

"That is correct." The professor picked up a book from his desk. "I've taken the liberty of providing your textbooks for this section of the lesson plan. I was told that most of your parents wouldn't be willing to buy a book of Muggle poetry if it meant living."

This caused the rest of the class to laugh. Regulus, already having a copy of the book in the professor's hand, raised his hand.

"Mr. Black?"

"I don't need a new copy," Regulus said, feeling pride that he'd gone out on his own and bought a copy of the book. "I've got my own."

Regulus half listened as continued to work on his poem from earlier. Maybe he'd actually pluck up the nerves to give one of his poems to him. James. James Potter. His very own muse and best friend of his older brother.

"Alright, class," the professor called for everyone's attention, "for tonight's homework assignment I want you to write a poem of your very own. It can be about anything you want, and I want you to read your creations aloud in front of the entire school."

Regulus paled as he packed up his books to head back to the Slytherin common room. How was he going to read a poem for James Potter in front of the entire school when the thought of just reading one in front of the boy scared him practically to death?

Regulus scribbled down a few words once he was safely inside his room. He looked at them and then crumpled the piece of paper up. Tossing it, he scribbled a few more words down and shook his head. Who was he kidding? He wasn't a poet. He was just a silly boy with a crush on his brother's best friend. He was pretty sure that James wasn't interested in other young men the way Regulus was.

He sighed, setting aside the assignment and putting his head in his hands. How was he going to attempt this assignment? Or for that matter even get up in front of people and read the darn poem?

"Man, are you worrying about that stupid Muggle Studies homework?" Nott asked, slipping into his own bed.

"Not the writing part," Regulus admitted. He loved writing poetry and could be found writing under one of the many trees around the Great Lake on nice days.

"Public speaking isn't one of your strong suits, is it?"

Regulus shook his head.

"Just pretend everyone in the crowd is naked or something like that," Nott suggested, laughing. "They say that's supposed to work. At least it should make for an interesting sight."

Regulus sighed. That didn't help him at all. But he would figure out how to read his poem when the time came. Right now he just needed to concentrate on getting the words right. The rest would fall into place. At least he hoped it would.


The next night when dinner was over and before the house elves set out the dessert, Professor Plum stood up from his seat at the Head table. He smiled fondly at the students as he walked around the table.

"Most of you know me as the Muggle Studies teacher," he began, looking toward his students who were interspersed in the crowd of confused faces. "Some of you may remember me from my time as a Hufflepuff student here. But tonight I'm here as a Muggle Studies teacher and I am proud to present some of our fine poets this evening before we have our dessert and go to our rest."

As each student read aloud his or her poem Regulus could feel the tension building in his stomach. Perhaps he could excuse himself to the bathroom and not have to read his poem? Perhaps he could pretend to be sick and be excused to Madame Pomfrey's? But no, she'd see through that and send him right back. He was just about to bring up another idea for a way to get out of this when Nott tapped his shoulder.

"It's your turn, mate," the blonde boy whispered.

Regulus could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks as he walked to the front of the Great Hall. He could feel all the students' eyes on him. He could feel James's eyes on him. He took a deep breath as he turned and faced the entire school.

Here goes nothing.

"This is a poem I wrote for a special someone."

He took the page of parchment and looked at the words he'd written. He wondered if James Potter would know they were for him. Taking a deep breath he began to read the poem.

"My love's beauty is dark,

In my heart, it leaps a spark.

A flame,

A fire from within

It even makes my head spin.

Raven-haired and bright-eyed,

Never away from a fight will be shied.

Bravery, strength, and a heart of gold,

In his arms forever I wish to behold,

A glorious life forever more,

For me and the one whom I adore."

Regulus bowed and walked back to his seat. He never noticed James Potter watching him as he walked away.


I hope you all enjoyed Poetry for the Soul as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would like to take this time to thank everyone who beta-read this story for me. It truly means a lot that you would take the time to help me out like that. So, thank you all very much!