The Star-Gazer

Thanks to a little nudge from my dear friend Andrea, I wrote a poem yesterday to go along with James Hance's magnificent painting of Luna. I find it delightful that he happens to have chosen my two favorite characters to paint first. Still very eager to see the rest of this series!

The Star-Gazer

Luminous Luna, wrapped up in wonder,
Gazes at gemstones that sparkle in space.
She’s never needed a wand to fall under
This spell of resplendence that brightens her face.

Inky and vast is the void far above her.
Still, as she joins the celestial dance,
Endless connections form figures that hover
In fresh constellations that gaily entrance.

Mystery rests like a shawl on her shoulders;
Nothing unknown is a peril to fear.
Darkest despair is unable to hold her;
Facing the grim, she knows light lingers near.

Some will insist that she couldn’t be stranger;
Different, indeed, is the sight of her soul,
Finding delight in the midst of each danger,
Seeing through sorrow a spirit made whole.

Cheered by the hare that is ever inside her,
Shining its hope through her numinous eyes,
Limpidly, Luna lets foolishness guide her.
Would that the rest of the world were so wise!

Hagrid's Hands

I've been trying to get myself back into poetry-writing mode. Here's one I wrote yesterday, inspired by James Hance's exquisite portrait of Hagrid holding an infant Harry.

Hagrid's Hands

His hands are huge and roughly worn
By ceaseless care for wondrous things
From hippogriff with mighty wings
To iridescent unicorn.

He’s shrugged off scorn for clumsy gaffes,
For addled wits and massive frame,
And felt the sting of misplaced blame,
But through the pain, still Hagrid laughs.

He laughs because the love he bears
Leaks out in heaping bursts of mirth
That heal the heart and shake the earth.
The night shines with the light he shares.

But sorrow mingles with his joy
And fills his mind with cloudy fears.
His gentle eyes fill up with tears
While handing off this baby boy.

A splashy droplet makes a mark
Upon the sleeping infant’s nose.
For just a moment, moisture glows,
Then fades away into the dark.

The lightning scar on Harry’s head
Will one day drive his hero’s quest.
When evil puts him to the test,
He’ll show that good prevails instead.

Perhaps this tear’s a tiny gift
To cradle him through his neglect,
A bit of love to recollect
When Harry’s soul could use a lift.

With heaving sighs, the giant stands,
A tender glimmer in his eye.
The time has come to say goodbye,
But Harry’s safe in Hagrid’s hands.

You Can Have Your Fit (You Can Have My Heart, Julie Miller)

Several months ago, I was browsing YouTube in search of videos from the new Celtic Thunder DVD when I stumbled upon Ryan Kelly's tender demo cover of singer-songwriter Julie Miller's Broken Things.  It's now ranks among my favorite of his songs, surpassing several of his Celtic Thunder solos, and has given me another songwriter to investigate as well.  Here's a reflection I wrote to her tune from the perspective of Dumbledore addressing Harry in the immediate aftermath of the Battle at the Ministry in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

You Can Have Your Fit

You can have your fit,
And I hope you do.
I've too many objects;
It's time I had too few.
I don't covet your load,
And I regret I've stayed away.
When I explain it to you, I expect you'll feel
Justified in your display.

You can have your fit.
You can go on breaking things.
You can fume and cry
When your next step is clear.
For you're right to want to rage at me,
But I need to share this prophecy.
Once you've heard it, you can have your fit.

So beyond my hopes,
You are brave and true.
You had been through so much,
I simply couldn't heap
More pain on you.
But I mustn't shrink any longer
From this message I give:
You will battle him again;
Neither can survive
While the other lives.

You can have your fit.
You can go on breaking things.
You can fume and cry
When your next step is clear.
For you're right to want to rage at me,
But I need to share this prophecy.
Once you've heard it, you can have your fit.

Yes, you're right to want to rage at me,
But I need to share this prophecy.
Once you've heard it, you can have your fit.

Broken Things (scroll down to music player)

Trust in Their Friend (Dust in the Wind, Kerry Livgren)

I've had Dust in the Wind on the brain lately, and that's a bad song to have firmly lodged in my head, since I can't think of any other song that I find more depressing.  Yes, it's gorgeous, but if I run across it unexpectedly, it can put me in a funk for the rest of the day.  So in an effort to get it out of my system, I've used it to write a reflection from Harry's perspective following his discovery in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban that his parents were betrayed by their close friend.  Though it doesn't tell the whole story, it's still one of the most depressing moments in the series, but at least maybe now, the next time I hear the song on the radio, I will think of J. K. Rowling instead of Nietzsche...

Trust in Their Friend

They closed their door.
Only one outside it knew where they had gone.
How could he
Break the sacred contract of fidelity?

Trust in their friend.
All they had was trust in their friend.

Dad and Mum
Never would have had to give their lives for me.
Malfoy knew,
Taunting me with whispered hints of treachery.

Trust in their friend.
All they had was trust in their friend.

Now, tell me, Ron,
Do you wonder why I want to hurt this guy?
I’m sure you’d see
If you were forced to listen to your parents die.

Trust in their friend.
All they had was trust in their friend.
(He betrayed the trust of his friends.)
Trust in their friend.
All they had was trust in their friend.
(He betrayed the trust of his friends.)
Their friend.

Our Little Girl (My Little Town, Paul Simon)

I've been participating in an online discussion of the Harry Potter books, and recently a few of us commented on how strange this whole experience must be for Hermione's parents.  We barely see them throughout the series - and they barely see her, especially after the third book.  Here's a reflection from their perspective to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's My Little Town.

Our Little Girl

Well, our little girl,
She always is leaving.
We scarcely see her at all.
Oh, it would mean so much to us
If she would just stay here till the fall.
Boy, she's getting tall!
Our little girl.

Since she went to that school,
Flying on broomsticks and taking Arithmancy,
Our lives are defined by
Waiting for owls on a howling breeze.

She eases our pain with her parchment,
Her escapades shining in black,
But long letters cannot compare
To that precious presence we lack.
Wish that she would come back here.
Our little girl.
Our little girl.
Our little girl.

Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!

Well, our little girl
Was always a loner, but she's found some faithful chums.
Maybe we're greedy,
Maybe we're needy,
Thinkin' as we linger over patients' puffy gums

That we wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl.
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!


My Little Town

Feelin' Lucky (Feelin' Groovy, Paul Simon)

Here's a ditty from Ron's perspective in the chapter Felix Felicis in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's Feelin' Groovy.

Feelin’ Lucky
So what? He spiked my juice;
The potion went to perfect use!
Just watch me block another goal.
Quidditch is fun;
I’m feelin’ lucky!
Felix Felicis leaves me
Feelin’ lucky.

Not a Chaser can defy me
And not a Quaffle will sail by me.
Fans have changed their rhyme for me.
“Hail, King Weasley!”
Feelin’ lucky!
“Weasley will not let the Quaffle in!”
Feelin’ lucky.

Well, I bet I could Beat and Chase as well as Keep.
I feel like I could play this game in my sleep.
All it took was a boost to my low self-esteem.
Thank you, Harry.
I’m so lucky!

Slytherin (Yesterday, Paul McCartney)

I just finished a re-read of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and one of the scenes that jumped out at me was Harry's brief conversation with the Sorting Hat in Dumbledore's office.  Here's an homage to that moment to the tune of the Beatles' Yesterday.

Slytherin

Slytherin
Is the House you almost put me in.
What a big mistake that would have been!
I don’t belong in Slytherin.

Gryffindor
Is the House I’m clearly suited for.
Can’t you see the courage at my core?
Oh, I belong in Gryffindor.

I spoke to a snake.
Now they quake when I walk in,
Whispering, “Beware!
He’s the Heir of Slytherin!”

Slytherin
Left a lightning scar upon my skin.
Did it also burrow deep within?
Do I belong in Slytherin?

I spoke to a snake.
Now they quake when I walk in,
Whispering, “Beware!
He’s the Heir of Slytherin!”

Slytherin
Left a lightning scar upon my skin.
Did it also burrow deep within?
Do I belong in Slytherin?

The Lightning-Struck Tower (The Green Fields of France, Eric Bogle)

There's a critical moment in The Sound of Music during which Captain Von Trapp appeals to Rolfe, the zealous young Nazi in training, not to turn him in to the authorities, to instead join his family in their escape from an increasingly dangerous Austria.  I was startled when it came to that point in my high school's production and Rolfe, rather than hollering for his commander as he'd done in the film, reported back that there was no one there.  He didn't join them, and he only bought them a few minutes, so the impact upon the play was minimal, but what a difference it made in the future I could imagine for the character!

I think of that scene every time I read The Lightning-Struck Tower, the twenty-seventh chapter in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, in which the cornered Dumbledore appeals to Draco Malfoy's better nature.  Before we can get a definitive answer as to what Draco will do, Rowling interrupts their conversation, and the matter goes out of Draco's hands.  But the fact that he's still teetering in indecision suggests a great deal about what his ultimate choice might have been.

When I was browsing YouTube earlier this week for the tracks on Take Me Home, Celtic Thunder's latest album, one of the last songs I listened to was The Green Fields of France.  I'd never heard of it before, so I didn't really know what to expect, but by the end of the second exquisitely delivered line, I knew I'd stumbled upon something special.  I was sure I wanted to use it as a springboard, but I needed to find just the right subject.  Something solemn, something personal, something involving a choice.  I kept coming back to Ben Linus and Jacob in the season five finale of LOST, but it just didn't feel quite right.  Then I made the leap to the comparable scene in Harry Potter, and it practically wrote itself...

The Lightning-Struck Tower

Well, how do you do, young Draco Malfoy?
Do you mind if we speak for a moment, my boy?
Your face seems so pale, but please don't be alarmed,
For you've caught me alone and completely unarmed.
I hear by the clatter reaching us from below
You've succeeded in letting in Death Eaters, so
You may wait till they come here to deal the death blow,
For killing is harder than the innocent know.

Will you lower your weapon and allow me to step in?
Will you stop while your soul is untarnished and whole?
Will you trust the benevolent will win?
Will you veer from the path of a villain?

I'm impressed with your efforts.  You've thought this thing through.
The Vanishing Cabinets...  How clever of you!
And magical coins and a brainwashed barmaid.
It's time I applauded you, Draco.  Well played!
I know desperation has been driving you, son,
But please, while the damage is yet to be done,
Turn away from the darkness of Voldemort's side.
I'll offer protection and I'll help you to hide.

Will you lower your weapon and allow me to step in?
Will you stop while your soul is untarnished and whole?
Will you trust the benevolent will win?
Will you veer from the path of a villain?

Now, Draco Malfoy, I can't help but suspect
Your heart isn't in this.  With all due respect,
Did you really believe that the necklace you cursed
And the mead that you poisoned would come to me first?
They were feeble attempts, and most fortunately,
Your victims were not injured permanently.
Now I hope you'll go over your options with me,
For it's my mercy now, and not yours, that is key.

Will you lower your weapon and allow me to step in?
Will you stop while your soul is untarnished and whole?
Will you trust the benevolent will win?
Will you veer from the path of a villain?
Will you veer from the path of a villain?

Green Fields of France 

Expecto Patronum! (Heartland, Phil Coulter)

One of the most impressive songs in the Celtic Thunder catalog is Heartland, a haunting ensemble number in which storm-tossed seafarers pray for protection from the elements.  With its Gaelic chorus that translates to "Lord, have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy," it's also perhaps the most overtly religious song they perform.  I've been itching to do something with it ever since I heard it, but I was clueless as to what that might be.  Then tonight, the solution hit me over the head.  So here's my tribute to my favorite of J. K. Rowling's many creative spells.

Expecto Patronum!
 
Harry: When Dementors threaten and all is cold,
Deliver me from the darkness in my soul.

All: Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!
Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!

Luna: When my world is lonely and friendships rare,
Call to mind my comrades, little hare.

All: Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!
Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!

Snape: Silver doe, I have kept you secret so long.
Lead the boy to the sword and make him strong.

All: Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!
Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!

Harry: Deliverer, deliverer,
I wait for you!

All: Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!
Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!

Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!
Expecto patronum!  Expecto patronum!

There Was Only Ever One (Ashokan Farewell, Jay Ungar)

Well, Poetry Month is up, and I didn't write quite as much as I'd hoped, but here's a filksong to the tune of Ashokan Farewell to close out the month, inspired by our peeks into Snape's memories late in the Harry Potter series.  Poor Sev...

There Was Only Ever One

There was only ever one in this world so unforgiving
Who banished the darkness dementing my days,
Only one who made me see that a life could be worth living,
Dissolving despair with her gossamer gaze.

But I pushed her away and lost her forever.
Seduced by their silky lies,
I abandoned the wise to follow the clever,
Becoming a beast she was bound to despise.

Though my love for her endured, she was wedded to my rival,
The smug interloper I longed to destroy.
I'd revoke that bitter wish for the sake of her survival;
The best I can do is watch over her boy.

Lily, fairest of all the blooms in the garden,
My penance has now begun.
I will dream of one day perceiving your pardon
Alight in the emerald eyes of your son.

Sympathy for the Snake

Taken from a poetry prompt about being an outsider...

Sympathy for the Snake

When Harry was a boy of only ten,
He joined his aunt and uncle at the zoo.
He'd never even heard of Hogwarts then;
Neglect was all the orphaned wizard knew.

So when he saw the snake behind the glass,
His pity penetrated to the bone.
He too was trapped, a creature to harass,
A being both imprisoned and alone.

In later years, the serpent's specter loomed,
And Harry fought a battle deep within.
The Boy Who Lived refused to be consumed
By deadly pride, the mark of Slytherin.

But as the final confrontation neared,
He once again found cause for empathy.
The Slytherin he most despised and feared
Had grown up disregarded.  So had he.

Thus Harry, seeing how destructive zeal
Could follow from egregious childhood aches,
Became the one to help the Houses heal:
The Gryffindor who sympathized with snakes.

Those Twins (Belle, Alan Menken / Howard Ashman)

I've never been much good at practical jokes, so I thought I'd acknowledge the first of April with a tribute to my favorite pranksters, to the tune of Belle from Beauty and the Beast.  Here's to you, Fred and George!  Happy April Fools' Day!

Those Twins

[The sun rises on the Burrow on a summer day in 1993]
Ginny: Little house.
It's a tiny cottage.
Ron: Could be dull
As Professor Binns.
Percy: But this house
Full of red-haired people
Is in disarray...

Molly: Those twins!
Percy: Those twins!
Molly: Those twins!
Percy: Those twins!
Molly and Percy: Those twins!

Fred: (peeks from around corner)
There goes our brother with his badge like always.
How can he walk with that big head?
George: You would think he’d know my name
Since we live here in the same
Overpopulated house... (goes into kitchen)

Spoken
Percy: Good morning, Fred!
George: ‘Morning, Perce!
Percy: Where‘s George?
George: Upstairs.  Starting to smell up there; I think he just set off some dungbombs in your bedroom, and -
Percy: That George...  Mother!  I’ll show him...  Mother!
(George leaves and dashes off laughing with Fred)

[in a Hogwarts corridor, that fall]
Filch: Look, there they go.  Those boys are brats, no question.
They strut around with cheeky grins,
But their antics aren’t allowed.
Since they first came here, I’ve vowed
To revive the old deterrents for those twins.

McGonagall: They liven up Transfiguration.
Snape: Those hooligans!  They cause me strife.
Flitwick: Their flair for Charms is quite extensive.
I’ve never taught such students in my life!

[approaching Ludo Bagman at the Yule Ball, winter of '94]
Spoken
Ludo: Ah, boys!
Fred: Good evening! 
George: We'd like to request the funds you promised.
Ludo: Bugging me still, boys? 
George: Look, that was all our savings!
Fred: We'll give you another trick wand...
Ludo: You're too young to gamble anyway!
Fred: Ha!  That's not what you said at the World Cup!
Ludo: World Cup...  Well, I had a lot on my mind!
George: Well, we have a lot of tricks up our sleeves!
Fred: Canary Creams -
George: Ton-Tongue Toffees -
Fred: All sorts of stuff, but we need supplies!
Ludo: Say, boys, isn't that your brother headed this way?
Fred and George: Oh, blast!
Ludo: Toodle-oo!
Fred: We'll see you...
George: See you very soon!

[Gryffindor common room]
Hermione: The twins are whispering.  It's so peculiar;
They're always making so much noise!
As I pore over my book,
I will just steal a quick look.
Oh, I wonder what they're up to now, those boys...

[on the Hogwarts Express at the end of the school year]
Fred: George, isn't this amazing?
We can start that joke shop, you and me.
George: And when it's up and running,
We'll let Harry take his pick of merchandise for free!

[at Grimmauld Place, late summer of '95]
Molly: I'm putting both of you on clean-up duty.
Go empty out the rubbish bins.
Fred: Here's a cheerful little thought -
We'll recover what she got.
Oh, she'll never get the best of me.
George: No, she won't get the best of me.
Molly: Oh, they won't get the best of me, those twins!

[a few days later, huddled around Ron's Hogwarts letter]
Spoken
George: No way!
Fred: No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect!
George: (to Harry) We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!
Fred: I guess you've caused too much trouble.  Good for you!
George: Bad for us.  Mum's going to be revolting.
Fred and George: (chanting) Ickle Ronnie Prefect, ickle Ronnie Prefect...
Fred: At least one of you's got their priorities right.

Hermione: Can you believe this, Ron?  We'll both be prefects.
These two had best tone down their sins.
Molly: Now with any luck you will be a Head Boy just like Bill.
What a shame it didn't rub off on the twins...

[in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, fall]
Fred: We have no use for school achievements.
George: We have our O.W.L.s, so who needs N.E.W.T.s?
Fred: It won't be long before we leave this,
But first we've got to find some test recruits.

[in the Gryffindor Common Room, where first-years are sampling Skiving Snackboxes]
George: Pastilles!
Fred: They're good!
George: They're safe!
Hermione: They're not!
Fred: No harm in puking!
George: Nougats are tops!
Hermione: Nosebleeds!
Fred: So what?
George: They're fine!
Fred: You'll see!
Hermione: Not on your life!
George: What can you do?
Hermione: I'll write -
Fred: Oh, no -
Hermione: Your mum!
George: Not her!
Hermione: You need rebuking.
Fred: Now that's just low!
Hermione: One warning.  Just one warning!

[back at the Burrow]
Arthur: I think their tricks are funny, but my wife...
Molly: Those boys will never get ahead in life!

[at Hogwarts, spring of '96, as Fred and George make their grand exit]
Fred: I think we've had enough of education.
Time for our real lives to begin!
Students: Though we hate to see them go,
There's one thing that we know:
They are on their way to great careers.
Hermione: Unusual but great careers.
Students: They're on their way to great careers,
Those twins!

Norbert the Ridge-Backed Dragon (Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Johnny Marks)

Here's a silly little ditty about Hagrid's pet dragon Norbert to the tune of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Norbert the Ridge-Backed Dragon

You know Chinese and Swedish and Welsh ones are scary.
Horntail from Hungary tried to kill Harry.
But do you recall
The most fearsome dragon of all?

Norbert the ridge-backed dragon
Had a fire-breathing nose.
When the gamekeeper hatched him,
He ignited Hagrid's clothes.

All of the burns and scratches
Added up, and Hagrid knew
He had to banish Norbert,
Send him to a dragon zoo.

Then one balmy summer's eve,
Charlie Weasley said,
"Norbert's fine, and by the way,
It's Norberta, with an 'a'."

Hagrid was most astonished,
Crying in perplexity,
"Norbert the ridge-backed dragon,
How'd I miss that you're a she?"

Unhinging Hagrid

I have always been cursed with a very, shall we say, weak constitution. I've gotten carsick on the way to the post office before - and that's four blocks away. So I think I know just what Hagrid is going through when he boards that cart with Harry, and I'm guessing that he dreads having to make the trip to Gringotts whenever the need arises. I wouldn't want to go on that roller coaster either...

Unhinging Hagrid
Hagrid could handle a blast-ended skrewt -
Actually thought that the buggers were cute.
He never worried about getting germs
While he was digging for fresh flobberworms.

Norbert the dragon had lived in his hut.
He'd gently coddled a three-headed mutt.
Hagrid was puzzled by others' alarm,
Wondering why no one else saw their charm.

Big, hairy spiders excited to eat
Wandering students? He thought they were sweet.
No living creature, no matter how grim,
Bothered, befuddled or terrified him.

Yet Hagrid shivered as he slowly neared
Gringotts, for this place held something he feared.
No sword-like teeth and no fiery breath
Made Hagrid's face turn the color of death.

No killer claws haunted him as he stopped,
Clutching his stomach, which fluttered and flopped.
No spiky spine and no peaked pinchers loomed.
Still, Hagrid walked like a man who was doomed.

Once in the bank, as he silently shook,
Poor Hagrid followed the goblin Griphook,
Dreading the journey he knew would soon start.
Hagrid, unhinged by a rickety cart.

Vernon's Dream

Poor Vernon was having a very bad day in The Boy Who Lived. Here, I imagine him chalking it all up to a bad dream, until he can't deny it anymore...

Vernon's Dream

The most bizarre, disturbing dream
Assaulted me last night.
I thought, "It must be something that I ate."
What else could make the city teem
With sights that caused such fright
And left my mind in such a frenzied state?

It started when I saw the cat.
An ordinary beast,
Except... Since when do cats know how to read?
Well, what was I to make of that?
I didn't have the least
Intention of remaining. No, indeed!

I hurried on away from there,
But then what did I see?
A bunch of dodgy, closely clustered blokes
With scandalously unkempt hair -
Some just as old as me! -
All loitering about in colored cloaks.

And then, the lowest blow of all!
A fellow, barking mad,
Insulted me, I think; what did he say?
Ah, yes. The ruddy rotter called
Me "Muggle". Then he had
The gall to hug me! What a dreadful day...

The evening news reported birds
Were swarming in a host
Of wicked wings and evil beaks and claws.
To top it off, I know I heard
The name that I hate most:
The Potters, my degenerate in-laws.

Such fear I'd never felt before,
But still it didn't turn
Me inside-out or make me quail and quake
Until I opened my front door
And was distressed to learn
That all that time, I had been wide awake.

Weatherby (Let It Be, Paul McCartney)

Poor Percy, working so hard for Mr. Crouch in Goblet of Fire, and his boss can't even get his name right. Here's a little parody to the tune of Let It Be.

Weatherby

When the tournament is too much trouble and I lack the energy,
I call my assistant, Weatherby.
And when I see the Dark Mark and am shamed before the Ministry,
I call my assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

And when I've been outsmarted by the boy who's out to ruin me,
I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
I fear that someone's started to suspect I helped my son to flee.
I'll make great demands of Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Yes, I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Bartemius is rowdy, as disgraceful as a boy can be.
I would rather borrow Weatherby,
A young man to be proud of. Oh, why couldn't he belong to me?
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Oh, I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

The Waltz

It's such a tiny, throwaway moment, but I love the dream that Harry has in OotP of Professor Sprout and Neville dancing with each other while Professor McGonagall plays the bagpipes, so I couldn't resist writing about it...

The Waltz
The scene exists only within Harry's dream.
No others will see this event,
And that is a shame, for the three of them seem
Completely serene and content.

Pomona, the kind-hearted lover of plants,
And Neville, the student who shines
In each of her classes, are locked in a dance
As graceful as blossoming vines.

In daylight, the teacher would find it bizarre
To waltz with a pupil like this,
But here in the vision, by light of a star,
They're caught in a whirlwind of bliss.

Minerva stands by in an emerald gown,
And, giving her bagpipes a squeeze,
She sways to their music, displaying no frown,
Her locks flying loose in the breeze.

It's only a snapshot that dims with the dawn,
Yet he'll return once in a while.
In silvery slumber, he'll stumble upon
The dancers and piper and smile.

Dumbledore (El Shaddai, Michael Card)

Harry has suffered a lot of losses throughout the books. Here, to the tune of Michael Card's El Shaddai, he reflects on Dumbledore's death.

Dumbledore

Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
What did you drink poison for?
Did you know back in that cave
You were headed for the grave?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
I am shaken to the core.
I can't stay here anymore,
Dumbledore.

I'm still learning who I am.
I doubt I'll pass this last exam,
For without your guiding hand,
I can't hope to understand
That perplexing prophecy
Or where those Horcruxes could be.
Oh, how do I fulfill my destiny?

Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
What did you drink poison for?
Did you know back in that cave
You were headed for the grave?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
I am shaken to the core.
I can't stay here anymore,
Dumbledore.

Though I'm fearful, it is clear
That I have to persevere,
Since I can't help but agree
That this task belongs to me.
You were the wisest of all men;
Won't you counsel me again?
When I face the great unknown,
Must I do it on my own?

Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
What did you drink poison for?
Did you know back in that cave
You were headed for the grave?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
I am shaken to the core.
I can't stay here anymore,
Dumbledore.

She's Got a Whole World in Her Head (He's Got the Whole World in His Hands, Traditional)

Here's a little tribute to J. K. Rowling to the tune of He's Got the Whole World in His Hands.

She's Got a Whole World in Her Head

She's got a whole world in her head,
She's got a whole wide world in her head,
She's got a whole world in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got the wizards and the witches in her head,
She's got the Muggles and the house-elves in her head,
She's got the centaurs and the giants in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got Hermione and Harry in her head,
She's got Minerva and Albus in her head,
She's got Dolores and Draco in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got the Ministry of Magic in her head,
She's got the sleepy town of Hogsmeade in her head,
She's got the hallowed halls of Hogwarts in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got foamy butterbeer in her head,
She's got sorcerers that scare in her head,
She's got books beyond compare in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got a whole world in her head,
She's got a whole wide world in her head,
She's got a whole world in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

Burning Rage (Turn the Page, Bob Seger)

Harry's got an awful lot on his mind in Deathly Hallows. Here's a reflection by him to the tune of Bob Seger's Turn the Page.

Burning Rage

It's a long and lonesome journey lacking room and board,
And I listen for the not-so-distant murmurs of discord
As I think about my mission, to at last bring down that evil lord.
Though I'm glad to have some company, I sometimes think the glue
That has bound us three together may grow weak as we pursue
Heinous Horcruxes in hiding. It's a taxing thing to do.

Hey, that vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort's burning rage...

Well, in retrospect, Ron didn't want this unwieldy load.
Now I realize despondently the bitter seeds I sowed
When I let him and Hermione come follow me upon this road.
When he left, he didn't walk; Ron just up and ran,
And he Disapparated like that always was his plan.
Oh, I just can't help but wonder, is he a splinching fan?

That vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort's burning rage...

Xeno's tricks were not right, but at least we got away.
I'm still glad we went, 'cause he enlightened me today.
I'll preserve my feeble body with the Hallows. Where are they?
Those two don't believe me, think I'm dizzy in the head.
Now distraction comes to camp, and I am chortling at Fred.
The broadcast ends, and I forget whose name must not be said.

Now that vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort's burning rage...

Oh, that vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort, Voldemort...