Three years ago, a group of friends amassed
To watch the final Potter film together.
That silliness felt jarring in contrast
To the fell fate befalling their bellwether.

There’s not really a satisfying answer
As to why that vivacious Hufflepuff
Should have to battle terminal brain cancer;
Because, perhaps, she’s made of sternest stuff.

For laughing wild amid severest woe
Was what she called on all of us to do,
Inspiring us to rhymes most apropos
And many lusty readings did ensue.

And though I never got the chance to meet her,
I know that cancer never can defeat her.