Christmas Nineteen Years Later

Years later
Gold and silver tinsel
Red ornaments, Green tree
Gathered underneath it, a family
A hero marked for death who would not die
A woman who loved and fought with all her heart
Three children
All was well


Nineteen Years: a Poem for 9/1/2017

Nineteen years since the war
In a world rebuilt
Brick by brick
Stronger than ever before

Maybe the
For a reason

She pushes through the barrier
Into a world of smoke
And a scarlet-red train
How many years did she wait
Counting down
As her older brothers boarded
Leaving her behind
A firey-red potion boiling over
With impatience

Red and gold banners
Racing the wind on a Firebolt
Sneaking off to practice spells
Or track down trouble
Hidden beneath his father’s cloak
And guarded by the silver spirit of his love
Lazy days at the lake
And laughter in the common room
That’s what Hogwarts means to him

It also meant danger
But danger meant a chance to fight
For the home and family
He’d found there

More figures surround them on the platform
Old friends
Old rivals
And strangers whose children are bound
On the same journey

She’s devoted her life to laws and justice
To making this world she stepped into
Twenty-six years ago
Burning up with an outsider’s curiosity
Better for everyone

He’s the laughter that fills their lives
Bringing them all a little closer together
Like the sweaters his mother knits
Every Christmas
And their children trail after them
Grinning as brightly as little lumos charms
Full of hope for the future

Across the smoke
A familiar rival waves goodbye
To a child who looks
Like a polyjuice copy of his younger self
Their eyes meet
But it’s been nineteen years since they stood
On opposite sides of a battlefield
And there’s no need to fight

All around, voices chatter:
“Do you think I’ll make the Quidditch team this year?”
“Look at my new owl, isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Yes, I’m taking Arithmancy this year, I can’t wait to get started.”
“Want to find a compartment together?”

One voice cuts through the chaos
“What if I am in Slytherin?”
And nineteen years later
It doesn’t seem to matter

Dozens of eager first-years board the train
Leafing through textbooks
Trading chocolate frog cards
Chatting eagerly about the school
About themselves
About their hopes and dreams

With a surge of magic
And a gust of steam
The train starts to chug along
As it does year after year
Taking a new generation
On a familiar adventure