‘Twas Valentine’s at Hogwarts, and
The castle was ablaze
With thoughts of lust and longing
On that loveliest of days;
The students were excited, though
Some few remained unfazed.
It was in the Hall with Lockhart that
The students first were told:
“Flitwick knows Enchanting spells,
A wonder to behold!
Professor Snape brews love potions.
Just ask him, if you’re bold.”
Professor Flitwick bowed his head,
His ears a pretty pink;
Snape looked grim, with evil eye,
Should any dare to think;
While Lockhart flashed his brilliant smile
And gave them all a wink.
But one so brave did dare to ask
His teacher for a spell.
He approached Professor Flitwick,
And his story he did tell.
He hoped his tale would stir the heart
Where feelings deep did dwell.
He loved a girl, so fair and true,
Who did not know his name;
Her eyes were blue, like twinkling stars,
Her hair a long dark frame
Around a face so beautiful
It set his heart aflame.
Professor Flitwick sadly said
He’d have to win her fair.
“Enchanting Spells will soon wear off,
Destroying the affair;
Leaving one alone and lost
With heartbreaking despair.”
So the boy then turned to Snape,
And asked him for a potion.
The hooked nose man just stared at him,
Disgusted by the notion;
Apparently he rarely felt
The need for such emotion.
Last he went to see Lockhart,
Who offered him advice.
He suggested flowers and said that
Chocolate would entice
The heart of any girl he loved.
“Sweet presents will suffice.”
So he picked her daffodils,
Then bound them with a cord;
He gathered up his Chocolate Frogs,
From all his sugary hoard.
He set out for the Great Hall quick
To find his love adored.
As Lockhart grinned, and Flitwick smiled,
And Snape watched with a sneer,
The boy approached the girl so kind,
His one true love so dear.
He handed her the gifts he held,
Face shining and sincere.
She glanced at him and took the gifts,
Then looked at him once more.
She nodded, and she thanked him, then
She set them on the floor.
She turned back to her friends again;
The boy she did ignore.
The boy was sad, his heart was broke;
He slowly walked away.
Snape laughed cruel, and Flitwick frowned
To see the boy’s dismay.
Lockhart ran out after him
To try and save the day.
“Wait!” he cried. The boy turned ‘round,
His face a sorry sight.
“Give her this, it’s signed by me,
A read of great delight.
My latest book, a work of art!
She’ll surely thank you right.”
He took the tome and marched back in
And handed her the book.
She glanced at down at the signature
And gave a double look.
The autograph did melt her heart,
Her feelings overtook.
She threw her arms around the boy
And kissed him on the cheek.
She turned back to her friends again
And gave a little shriek.
He touched his face, his eyes aglow,
His knees shaking and weak.
Lockhart smiled, then clapped his hands,
And Flitwick joined the round.
Snape just rolled his eyes and jeered,
Disgusted by the sound.
The boy grinned broad and walked away,
His love now finally found.
He dreamed of his new girl that night,
Of days spent holding hands.
Of warm embraces, secret kisses,
Of late night talks so grand;
He dreamt of life with love so true,
And laid out all his plans.
When came the morn he sought her out,
A smile on his face.
She frowned at him, confused at first,
Rejecting his embrace.
He flushed and ran back to his room,
Fast fleeing in disgrace.
It was not him that she had liked,
But rather Lockhart’s name.
She kept the book and broke his heart
And left him ‘lone in shame.
And so that holiday quite sad
Soon ended all the same.
The boy grew up, both brave and true,
And overcame great strife.
Then he met a lovely girl
Who soon became his wife.
They had a son and daughter,
And they lived a happy life.
~ The End ~