Harry Potter Severus' Savior

I wrote this a while ago in the theme of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven".

Pathetic? Yes. But it took me a lot of time and effort anyway.

KEEP IN MIND I AM NO POET! I can't rhyme, and I gots no rythem, bro.

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**Severus' Savior**

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**Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,**

**Over a hot and simmering potion for Headmaster Dumbledore,**

**While I chopped, mincing finely, a knock there came unkindly,**

**As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.**

"'**Tis some student," I muttered, "always wanting something more-**

**Only this, and nothing more."**

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**Ah, distinctly I remember of the many I'd dismembered,**

**And each separate screaming face did plead for me to end their life.**

**Every day I wished tomorrow would relieve my endless sorrow**

**Repaying mercy I had borrowed – borrowed for eternal strife.**

**Can't be forgiven, yet told that I am, he's just twisting the knife –**

**Twisting it for evermore.**

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**And still the knock persisting, I insist upon resisting**

**Flinging open my door to hex the trespasser with a roar;**

**So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,**

"'**Tis some teacher here to borrow ingredients like before –**

**Out past curfew to leach my resources from my private store – **

**This it is, and nothing more."**

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**Soon my temper then grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,**

"**A reason," said I, "from you for this intrusion I implore;"**

**Silence then, my wards disarmed; I freeze my potion with a charm. **

"**Until then, I say no one is admitted through my chamber door."**

**Staff speak by now – Death Eaters cross my mind, as I throw open the door –**

**Darkness there, and nothing more.**

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**Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there glaring, sneering,**

**Before me is Miss Granger, removing the Invisibility Cloak she wore.**

**Fear is absent from her gaze, beneath my scowl she remains unfazed.**

"**Out past curfew, Miss Granger? Twenty-five points from Gryffindor."**

**She walks past me into the room, my early warning thus ignored,**

**Merely this, and nothing more.**

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**Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me yearning,**

**I whirl to face she who entered my chambers from the corridor.**

**Miss Granger looks up at me for what seems to be an eternity;**

"**What brings you to my private chambers, why wash up on my shore?"**

**She points to my Dark Mark, bleeding where I had scratched, cut and tore,**

**Which I'd forgotten heretofore.**

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**Quickly here I wrap my cloak, shuddering as a stabbing pain evokes;**

**I catch a hint of concern in her eyes, when mine in them bore,**

**If I'm in pain, why should she care? My welfare is not her affair.**

**My tongue is ready – ready to spit a hurtful metaphor,**

**But it stuck in my throat at her sight, and refused to outpour,**

'**_Tis my fatigue and nothing more._**

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**Miss Granger sat down in a chair, and into the fire did she stare;**

"**Don't waste your concern on me, child, this is no business of yours."**

**She didn't reply, and for games I was not in the mood, so I stayed standing and silently stewed.**

"**I highly doubt you came down here to hear my tales of yore,**

**So do please enlighten me, as my telepathy is poor."**

**Here she smiled, and nothing more.**

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**Much I pondered this mystery, she did not act like her history,**

**Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;**

**For she was still intruding where humans I had been eluding.**

"**Is that what you want?" I sneered, "to hear of murder, blood and gore?**

**For if you refuse to talk, a 'yes' I'll take your silence for."**

**_Did I say that hereinbefore?_**

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**What made me offer her my past? All my privacy would I cast; **

**With no soul have I shared this, save Albus Dumbledore – **

**Why my evil tale did I suggest? For it she did not behest.**

**Am I this starved for companions to settle for a Gryffindor? – **

**So lonely for friends – even she, a know-it-all Gryffindor?**

**Must stop here: say nothing more.**

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**She gave me a look quite queerly; I returned a glare severely,**

"**Don't play games with me!" I spat, "this guessing game's a chore!"**

**Still she stared unyielding, as if to my soul that I was shielding.**

**My defensive walls weakened; little did I know what lie in store,**

**For the protective barriers I had built so long before,**

**Will not be there anymore.**

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**Then she curled up on the chair, still directed at me was her stare,**

**Stiffly, I approached the chair, feeling hunted by some predator.**

**Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to drinking,**

**This was my second blunder, the price of which I did abhor,**

**But I unthinkingly summoned a bottle and began to pour.**

**The risks of this I did ignore.**

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**There I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing**

**To the girl whose eyes, like drink, now burned into my stomach's core.**

**_Back to her dormitories! Spare her my nauseating stories;_**

**And now the alcohol takes effect, yet I had only drunk four.**

**Why not tell her all my grisly, shocking, ghastly tales of yore?**

**_Damn my inebriated candor!_**

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**And then to my repulsion, powered by my drunk compulsion,**

**I started, and when I tried to stop, I continued all the more –**

**She listened to me closely, as I continued speaking morosely;**

**Reliving memories and nightmares, the source of all my rancor**

**My childhood was the first unhappy memory I did outpour,**

**That was the first of many more.**

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**I told the horror I was haunted, desolate yet still undaunted,**

**I told of torture, murder, madness, rape, maim, and gore –**

**Violence and brutality, I did not spare her from reality.**

**I expected to hear a frightened gasp and footsteps on the floor,**

**Followed shortly thereafter by the slamming of the door.**

**Silence there, and nothing more.**

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**Slumped forward in my chair, with renewed waves of my despair;**

**Head in my hands, I am a prisoner – and I myself the captor.**

**Then I thought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,**

**Why does her judgment matter to me? Does she hold some hidden lore?**

**Why am I pained that she thinks I'm wicked? She is not my savior.**

**Like all, me she does deplore.**

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**After all I told her, a hand was put upon my shoulder;**

**She had risen and approached me silently from across the floor.**

**Startled at the stillness broken by touch symbolically betoken,**

**I gave a violent start and pierced her with my eyes of iron ore,**

**Her gaze was gentle, filled with compassion I'd never seen before,**

**This she did, and nothing more.**

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**My face must have betrayed the emotions threatening to cascade,**

**For she came to sit upon my lap like I was one to adore;**

"**Tell this soul with sorrow laden, you will comfort me, fare maiden;**

**Tell me that you'll stay and my soul with your mercy shall restore."**

**She hugged me tenderly then. "Surely you are my savior."**

**The silence then was broken by reply so softly spoken,**

**That I scarce was sure I heard it from the lovely Gryffindor, **

"**That is what I'm here for,**

**Always, and forevermore."**


End file.

Harry Potter, Poetry