Subject: Part Nine: Epic Poetry
Author:
Posted on: 2015-08-23 18:52:00 UTC

Sorry to disappoint any Homer fans out there, but I think nothing says "Epic Poetry" better than the Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse of Beowulf.

* * *

Time skips swiftly until the students
now awaken, but where are we?

"The common room," cries Cris, confused,
"Did the fic destroy the dorms?"

The students leave, head for their leson.
They do Defence against the Dark Arts.
First they fight using fliepdno.

"Grrr... that's from the games," grumbles
Myall marking down the charge.

Cris says "Canon's so corrupted,
does it really make a difference?"

Myall merely mutters "Yes."

Lupus fails at flipendo, and so
denteintion he must do.
The teacher locks the door, and, laughing,
now casts off the cloak he wore.
The fearsome foe: voldermores father.
Mouldermore is now unmasked!

Fighting fiercely with fluipdeneo,
the poor pupil he has pushed
into a wall. Lupus is wonded.
The student struggles to stand back up
then, from his wand, white lite
bursts forth, bright and brilliant.
It's sent, strongly surging, striking
his foe right in the face.

The boy is "more powaer," Mouldermort mentions,
before becoming black smoke to escape.

The agents look as Lupus leaves
to tell dumbelore what took place..

"Such a senseless scene," says
Myall mopping up the minis.

Cris is searching all the classroom,
prodding and poking till a plothole
is found. Reaching in, she soon retrieves
the true teacher who looks troubled.

"What happened? And where was that?"

The agents quickly close their eyes, and Cris
neuralyzes the nice man. "Nothing happened.
You dozed and dreamed it."

He nods dumbly, then departs.

* * *

Keeping with the poetry theme, next chapter: Limericks

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