Polly Juice Possion

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Met at platform 9 and 3 quarters 
On a train to Azkaban. 

She had crimson eyes
Snow was her hair
A cat in a hut, potions and a wand. 

When I sent her love cookies
In a envelope by mail
She sent me decayed bittersweet tendrils
Rolled in dead sea scrolls by rail. 

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