'Twas the second night at Hogwarts, no need to beware.
For not a Kreature was stirring, cause he wasn’t there.
The broomsticks were resting by the garbage with care,
In hopes that ST. Nicholas soon would be there…even though it wasn’t Christmas and magical people probably have no idea who that is.
The Gryffindors were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Snoop Dogg danced in Ghetto Neville’s head.
And Harry in his sailor moon pajamas, and Seamus in his cap,
Had just settled down for a short 1234567890-hour nap.
When out of the darkness there arose such a clatter,
Harry sprang from his bed to see what was the matter…
It was Ron, sitting up in his bed and loading his rifle.
“Could you do that LATER…you’re ruining the poem!” Harry huffed, standing at the side of Ron’s bed.
“Oh, sorry,” Ron answered, stashing his gun under his pillow for safekeeping.
-Harry Potter and the Technicolor Dream Phoenix
Edited by ♫Deathwoodoak♫ on 11/7/09 at 1:30:43 pm
Edited by ♫Deathwoodoak♫ on 11/7/09 at 1:30:52 pm