Aunt Muriel, carrion crow,

perches on the edge of her chair,

black eyes glittering.

Tilting her head,

she views potential prey

also known as family.


Scavenger by nature,

she searches out the vulnerable,

coarse feathers bristling.

Flexing her talons,

she hunts for signs

of exploitable weakness.


Stealer of joy,

she feeds on distress,

relentlessly tracking victims.

Opening her beak,

she strikes the unsuspecting

and wounds with words.


A/N: In Auntie Muriel's Coming for Christmas, Rose was a precocious six-year-old. In this poem, inspired by ch 12 of the Scorpius/Rose fic Our Little Secret, she's a seventh year who's just had her longtime crush on Teddy Lupin killed by a short, bad kiss on New Year's Eve that was prompted by Aunt Muriel telling Teddy that she always expected him to marry into the family and he'd take any of the girls. Kissing Rose "proved" he wouldn't. He left (staggering slightly) to go make up his row with Victoire. Rose was left in the library with quill and parchment to write a poem.

For those who like trivia (and I love you for it!), carrion crows, while scavengers by nature, also hunt and kill prey and harass other small predators to steal their kills. Charming, eh?

This is a short poem, but poetry isn't about word count. I promise it took much longer to write than this expansive note.

Because this is fan fiction, and I can quote a favourite poem if I want to, :D, here's Fog by the brilliant Carl Sandburg:

THE fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

I hope readers will review before moving on!