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Omen o.t. fire-spitting dragon
The Omen of the fire-spitting Dragon
It was Harry's third year at Hogwarts, the Christmas holidays had started.
As always on Christmas Eve, he, Ron and Hermione betook themselves to the feast in the Great Hall,
where they were already expected by some tables that were pushed together, on which the teachers and a few students sat.
The three students took a seat and talked about this and that. They watched, how Dumbledore offered a cracker to Snape,
from that a hat with a huge stuffed vulture broke free. Professor Snape made grimace and handed it to Dumbledore,
who swapped his old hat immediately against this one.
Suddenly the door flew open and Professor Trelawney floated into the room surrounded by her usual smoky scent.
"I thought it was time to break free from my usual life!" she greeted the staring crowd and made thereby a strange gesture.
"Come and sit by us, Sibyll" Professor Dumbledore invited the teacher.
Professor Trelawney's eyes flickered nervously up and down the table.
LithiumA single trickling rain drop
Like gossamer silk strands
Gliding along my third eye
Whispers wind's secret caress
I exhale. Lungs releasing-
Pressing translucent memories;
Fragment of a fragment
As water kisses rose petal,
Drifting down stream's curtain
Pretty little curtain.
Where the wizard lies.
He smiles up at me
With his monocled brow-
Sipping on warm tea
And fingers quacking casually
To the rhythm of his notes
This is a safe-zone. Free-zone.
Innocent eyes sparkle,
Imploring it to be true. I breathe.
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