When Ron’s 34

To the tune of When I'm 64 by The Beatles.

When he get older, leaving the school, many years from now,
Will he still be visiting Hogsmeade for, nostalgic visits and butterbeer?
If he loses his charm and witty remarks, would we shut the book?
Will we still know him, will we still care for him,
When he’s thirty-four?

(Hmm------mmm---mmmh.)
We'll be older, too.
(Aaah…)
And when we’re all grown up, we will lose it too.

He could be handy, mending a wand, expert at it too.
He learnt to knit a sweater with his name on it, sunday mornings, wear it to church.
Doing the garden, flinging the gnomes, who could ask for more?
Will we still know him, will we still care for him,
When he’s thirty-four?
Every summer he can rent a cottage by the octopus lake, if it's not too dear.
He can sell his hair.
(Ahh), cute children on his knee, lil’ Hermiones and Rons.

Send him an owlpost, but he may shout down the line, if you use a phone.
Tell him precisely what you mean to say, before young Ronny’s lost away.
There’s no answer, no for-seeing, the future forever more.
Will he still be ginger, or will he will dye it,
When he’s thirty-four?

Submitted by Mimo Smeemo