M'diary, M'dear

[Mlle Bienvenu]

Another Flanders and Swann filk, this time to the tune of 'Madeira M'dear'

Write in M’diary M’dear

She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice,
She was fair, she was eleven-teen.
He was sly, he was vile, and no stranger to vice,
He was base, he was bad, he was mean.
He had inveigled her to open his book
To view his collection of text.
And he said as he hastened to put up a good face, to say what he would say next:
'Write in m’diary, m’dear
You really have nothing to fear
I'm not trying to tempt you, that wouldn't be right
You shouldn't kill roosters at this time of night
Write in m’diary m’dear
You’re very much nicer to hear
I don't care for people who don’t write their heart out
(though this talk about Potter I can do without
It's simply a case of waiting it out)
Write in m’diary m’dear!”

Unaware of the wiles of the snake made of text
The fate of dear Ginny in tropes:
She lowered her standards by raising her pen
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes
She scratched and she scritched till her inkwell was dry
She quietly refilled it again
As she worked with her pen he replied and his words
slowly invaded her brain;

'Write in m’diary, M'dear
Tell me ‘bout this Chamber you fear.
(And once it's been opened, it will not be long,
I’ll finish her off so I can get strong.)
Write in m’diary, m’dear.
It’s been such a trying first year
Now my dear Gin, please keep writing, yes!
(The evil Gin does when her I possess,
If she stopped writing now it’d affect me prowess)
Write in m’diary, m’dear!'

Then it flashed through her mind what her mother has said
an antepenultimate refrain;
'Oh, My child, watch out for magic device if you can’t see
where it keeps it’s brain!'
She threw down the diary with a shrill little cry
Splash! Splosh! It fell into the bowl
Myrtle asked 'What in heaven!?' She made no reply,
Up she went, made a dash for the door.

’Write in m’diary, m’dear!’
Rang out in her head, loud and clear
A tremulous cry that was filled with despair
As she paused to take breath in the cool midnight air,
'Write in m’diary, m’dear!'
The words seemed to ring in her ear,
Until sometime later, she woke up on the floor
of the Chamber of Secrets, in her head, a dull roar
She remembered the words that she heard before
'Write in m’diary, m’dear!'

[Demonic Neko]

LOL This is wondeful, Mlle! ;D I wish I could do stuff like this! ;D

[Mlle Bienvenu]

She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice,
She was fair, she was sweet seventeen.
He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice,
He was base, he was bad, he was mean.
He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat
To view his collection of stamps
And he said as he hastened to put out the cat, the wine, his cigar and the lamps:
'Have some madeira, M'dear
You really have nothing to fear
I'm not trying to tempt you, that wouldn't be right
You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night
Have some madeira, M'dear
It's very much nicer than beer
I don't care for sherry, one cannot drink stout
and port is a wine I can well do without
It's simply a case of Chacun à son gout
Have some madeira, M'dear!'

Unaware of the wiles of the snake in the grass
The fate of the maiden who topes
She lowered her standards by raising her glass
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did
He quietly refilled it again
And he said, as he secretly carved one more notch
on the butt of his gold-handled cane;

'Have some Madeira, M'dear
I've got a small cask of it here.
And once it's been opened, you know it won't keep
Do finish it off, it'll hlp you to sleep
Have some Madeira, M'dear
It's really an excellent year
Now if it were Gin you'd be wrong to say yes
The evil gin does would be hard to assess
Besides, it's inclined to affect me prowess
Have some Madeira, M'dear!'

Then it flashed through her mind what her mother has said
with her antepenultimate breath;
'Oh, My child, is you look on the wine that is red
then prepare for a fate worse than death!'
She let go the glass with a shrill little cry
Crash! Tinkle! It fell to the floor
When he asked 'What in heaven?' she made no reply,
Up her mind, and a dash for the door.
'Have some Madeira, M'dear'
Rang out down the hall, loud and clear
A tremulous cry that was filled with despair
As she paused to take breath in the cool midnight air,
'Have some Madeira, M'dear!'
The words seemed to ring in her ear,
Until the next morning, she woke up in bed
With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head
And a beard in her earhole that tickled and said
'Have some Madeira, M'dear!'