A/N: Well, we were reading 'Lamb to the slaughter', by Roald Dahl, in LA today, and this idea has been nagging me ever since. Yah, so that's what this story is inspired by.

Warnings: Implied slash, not really anyone in particular. It's just that husband works better then wife in this fic. Implied M-Preg, only 'cause it works and fits with Roald Dahl's plot. Also, it probably makes no sense, but it works with 'Lamb to the Slaughter' so I'm not changing it.

Note: The lamb is frozen, btw, I just couldn't work it into the poem.

Disclaimer: Plot is Roald Dahl's, and character is JKR's. You know, they could probably write a kick-ass story together if they tried.

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Pretty Harry Potter, with his pretty face,

Had a pretty life, and lots of pretty grace.

A pretty little baby, coming on its way,

And a handsome husband, to have and hold each day.

It happened that one Thursday, his husband came home tense,

He ignored his love, and showed no penance.

When pretty Harry Potter asked him what was wrong,

In anger and hatred he was strong.

To Harry's shock and dismay, he announced he had to go,

And that he'd leave money, but Harry didn't want to know.

Harry couldn't comprehend, how it had come to that,

So he calmly took a leg of lamb, and swung it like a bat.

He tidied up the mess, and practiced his 'Howdy do's',

And figured out a plan, you see, he had a lot to lose.

He cheerily shopped for groceries, after practicing some more,

And went home to 'find' his husband, dead upon the floor.

The auror's came and searched the house, but all that they could find,

Was a roasting leg of lamb, and Harry, grieving, but of sound mind.

He offered them some whiskey, which they accepted with haste,

And the cooked leg of lamb, it was too good to waste.

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A/N: It's a little disturbing, I know, but if you've ever read 'Lamb to the Slaughter', you'd see how it fits. Anyway, this is the first poetry I've written in awhile, so forgive me. Review please!