Light of the lonely wizard’s heart,
after the night of war,
morning shall find our fortunes changed
when you return once more.
Hailed as The Boy Who Did Not Die,
come, Harry, Chosen One.
Those names alone restore our faith
as we await the sun.
Your name on every person’s lips
in longing whispers heard.
Amidst the horror, joy persists,
your love their hopeful word.
We suffer all, our safety lost;
we find no place to hide.
Our efforts falter without you.
Come, be our leader, guide.
The next-to-last horcrux was purged.
The serpent, headless, fell.
Your smile awakes the morning sun
and powers the final spell.
You braved the seeming last defeat
and passed death’s green-tinged doors,
but came again. The foe is doomed.
The victory now is yours.