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Yash Singh Sep 8
My First Day at Hogwarts
On a Saturday morning,
I woke up in pain.
Perched on top of my head,
Was an owl shaking its mane.

As I focused my glance,
the owl got clearer.
There was something clutched in its beak;
a pale yellow letter.

When I opened it,
words started to bloom,
Mr Y. Vartak,
The inner bedroom.


‘You have a place
in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Points will be taken for wrong,
and awarded for bravery.’

I showed it to my parents,
Who were not at all surprised.
They were in fact very happy,
I am a wizard I realized!

We took a plane to London,
Visit Diagon Alley.
In a hurry to buy my first wand,
robes and stationery.

It was the first of September,
so we hurried to Kings Cross.
We got to platform nine and three quarters,
after struggling through the chaos.

I had everything in my trunk,
I had nothing more to get.
My parents surprised me,
by giving me an owl as a pet.

I got a seat in the Hogwarts Express,
and put my robes,
There was a boy opposite me,
he was juggling bewitched globes.

We got off the train,
At Hogsmeade Station.
There was an amazing castle,
that was beyond my imagination.

We rowed across the lake,
sitting on boats,
It was getting colder,
so we pulled on our coats

We entered the hall,
Full of eyes.
There was a roof above us,
that represented the vast skies.

There was a dusty hat,
in the middle of a stage,
It had a rip near the brim,
so it looked older than its age.

A professor named Minerva,
Put that hat on my head.
The rip opened like a mouth,
Interesting is what it said.

The Sorting Hat as it was called,
said that he had to think some more,
After a while it yelled:
‘He’ll go in GRYFFINDOR!’

I joined the Gryffindor,
at the Start-Of-Term Feast.
We were so involved I talking,
we cared for our sleep the least.

After the feast, we departed,
for Gryffindor Common Room,
Outside the portrait hole, there was,
a shiny black broom.

I changed from my robes to my nightdress,
lay down watching the dying ember.
My eyelids were getting heavy,
I walked into a deep slumber.

This poem is written by me,
Yash Singh.
Specially written for my favourite,
Joanne Kathleen Rowling.
I wrote this poem for JK Rowling in Grade 8.
Knock knock.
Who's there?
You know.
You know who?
Exactly,
AVADA KEDAVRA


And this, my people, is how James Potter died
A "poem" every day.
Chandan Shersia Oct 2018
We met years ago, I remember it well.
The past is past, we musn’t dwell.
As soon as i met you, I instantly fell.
After all this time, I remember it well.

Your eyes sparkle just like then,
When we used to be the best of friends.
You were a Gryffindore, I was a Slytherine,
We drifted apart, it was a matter of time.

I couldn’t save you from a terrible fate,
I hate myself every minute for that day.
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
Love leaves a memory no one can steal!

       AFTER ALL THIS TIME?
       ALWAYS!
I am a huge potterhead. And i wrote this poem because of Snape’s unconditional love for Lily.
the first night i saw you,
i thought you were the one
who i can trust to
cast the memory charm on me.

i've been waiting for so long
to see the green light,
it made me blind.

the first night we talked,
i thought you can erase it —
worries, anxieties, and the voices
inside my head.

boy, i was wrong.
i should've learned occlumency
for you are one legillimens.
Accio mr fanboy and look straight in my eyes
Wait for a bit as I stupefy your heart
Though I can see your fist, about to fly
And touch this face as your bid of goodbye.
Anoushka Jain Dec 2014
Dobby's ideas,

Are more of a glitch.

Flesh memories,

Buried in a snitch.

Life is tough,

And such a heavy fight.

When dark times encircle you,

Remember to Turn on the light.

Weasley twins are strong,

More like human beaters

The world is not divided

Into good people and death eaters.

For in dreams,

We enter a world entirely our own.

Turn to page number

Three hundred and ninety four.

Dumbledore smiled,

Everyone has bad days.

Snape replied,

Always.

The people we love,

Leave us never.

The stories we love best,

Do live in us forever.

Cause the books we truly love,

Right back, they love us.

Draco, Dormiens,

Nunquam, Tittilandus.
For all my fellow Potterheads!

— The End —