A/N: This thing is weird. Actually, credits at end. Jabberwocky, the poem in italics, is by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, otherwise known as Lewis Carrol. Those parts I didn't both spell checking. It really is like that. Yes, this thing really does belong in the Harry Potter section, believe it or not.
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Jabberwocky
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome rathes outgrabe
In a deep, dark forest, something clanked. Cunning eyes peered out into the darkness, looking for its next victim.
Most dragons were tame, or quite near to it. They didn't live to eat meat, they just ate meat to live. But a few were different, being outcasts of the world. One was the elusive Jabberwock.
And one young man was destined to find him. Dreams came into his head during deep sleeps, telling him of a iridescent black serpent, with huge jaws and dangerous thorn-like claws.
He went home, seeking the meaning of his vision. His wise father slapped him on the back and told him of a legend that went far back in time.
"Beward the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
The young man followed his father's sage advice. He searched long and hard for a legendary sword in the attic of the traditional family manor. Once found, the sword gleamed (the rust was soaked off first, of coarse).
Saying goodbye to his family, he went off into the great unknown forest far away, where the rumored Jabberwock resided.
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
Quests of all types took much time and energy, and especially this one. A quest to kill. But to protect also.
He followed a river, but didn't come nearer then six feet to it. Another hero would come to try and fix the mysterious deadly river, the dreaded Bandersnatch. There was one more obstacle left, living in the much more appealing section of woods. The habitat of a Jubjub bird or two. Certain death.
All of the forest was perilous, except under one safe tree, of the name Tumtum. Now the Jabberwock must be summoned. He concentrated on the Jabberwock coming, coming…
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Come whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
Mere trees couldn't block the path of the Jabberwock, mighty and fierce. Someone challenged him. A someone leaning against a tree, sword at ready.
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
The task was accomplished, finished, done. The young man hurried up hill and down, towards his joyous family, horrific head on his shoulders.
"And hast though slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
A country freed from a dark shadow, and fame to a deserving man, joy to everyone around was accomplished with just a few snickers and snaks!
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome rathes outgrabe
-~-
An elderly owl somehow managed to swoop down and drop a letter onto a students plate during breakfast at Hogwarts. He read it, then tossed it down the table to his eager sister.
"Hey Ron, what was that about?" the famed Harry Potter asked his friend.
"Oh, Charlie killed an evil dragon or something. You know, the usual.
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A/N: I claim no responsibility for this thing. None at all. Chocolate at eleven o'clock doesn't work that well. Trust me. The Weasleys and Harry belong to J.K. Rowling.
~Springrain