You're a Badger, Harry

36: You're a Poet, Harry

Summary: *pats chapter on top of head* This bad boy can fit so many rhymes

Definitely one of the more fun chapters to write

Twas the night before Christmas break
when all through the dorm
Not a creature was stirring, for the beds were very warm;
Such peace in the wizarding world is extremely rare
Because some people out there make living a nightmare

The boys were nestled all snug in their beds,
Never mind, twas a lie, for up went Ernie's head
And then he opened his mouth and grumbled out —

"Shut the fuck up!" and wow, did he sound braindead.

Harry rolled his eyes and decided to say —

"It's almost Christmas, which means it's almost Louis Tomlinson's birthday."

But he had to admit that rhyming was indeed hard.

On an unrelated note, one meter is a yard.

Remus looked as though he hadn't slept a wink.

"Full moon?" Harry guessed sympathetically.

"No, I kept hearing this voice making these annoying rhymes."

From the kitchen, Sirius' voice sounded. "Hey, Moony, Molly says we're out of thyme!"

Remus groaned loudly.

"Geez," muttered a disgruntled Sage, "you'd think someone just committed a crime."

But she took pity and backed off anyway. At least, for now.

Harry did not. "You know, Moony, this is not a good time to have a cow."

He escaped to his room before Remus could turn him into werewolf ch-

"SAGE!!"

"I WAS GOING TO SAY CHIMICHANGA!!!" Sage lied like a lying liar who lies.

Hermione and Draco arrived two days before Christmas. One look told Harry that they had also been subjected to poetic nonsense.

"On the bright side," said Draco as he helped himself to a bag of crisps, "it convinced Father to let me come here a day early."

"Wow," Harry remarked, "he sounds a bit surly."

Draco muttered to himself, "What the fuck?"

Somewhere far away, Voldemort got bit by a duck.

("Are you for real, Author Sage? You couldn't come up with something better?"

Just for that, Barty got smacked with the sleeve of a sweater.)

Before they knew it, it was Christmastime. The kids had a grand snowball fight, which for some reason involved a... lime?

"Thanks, Harry," grumbled Ron, who was the unfortunate target for the fruit.

This was what he got for befriending the little shit, a gremlin to boot.

And when they were back inside, sipping delicious hot chocolate from their mugs...

... somewhere far away, Umbridge slipped on a rug.

(The rug had been an anonymous gift for being such a wonderful person, though why she kept slipping on it and only it, no one could say for certain.

Not even a certain pair of mischievous red-haired twins, or so they would say if asked while wearing matching grins.)

On an unrelated note, just to keep the rhyming streak in motion, Professor Sprout put on some hand lotion.

... Er... notion? Ocean? Snape thought about potions?