My Father Was A Werewolf

My father was a werewolf, a Marauder, one of four
 Who joined the Order and who fought for Albus Dumbledore
 My mother was an auror brave who sped upon her broom
 and loved the man with the scarred up face whose boggart was the moon
 Lord Voldemort rose again; I heard he caused some harm
 with cruel men in the silver masks and the Dark Mark on their arms
 Those Deatheaters had no fear, no shame and no remorse
 There were burning houses left behind and a hundred broken doors
 Come all ye wizards, hear the story of the ones that fell
 Buy me Fire whiskey and a beer, and heed the tale I tell
 If you have chocolate about you, repel those Dementors
 and if this story spooks your wits, I'll tell you something more.
 On a night-time visit he encountered some old friends
 and told them he was leaving, that his marriage he must end
 When Harry called him coward, the wolf rose in his eyes
 But he left to go back home to her and to apologize
 The Whomping Willow stands right there behind a wooded hill
 And I cannot pass by there without thinking about him still
 The Shrieking Shack stands in that field, its windows all a-gape,
 Haunted by his memory and the ghost of Severus Snape
 I believe he truly loved her, but both left me behind
 and fell in battle fighting for the rest of wizardkind
 My mother was an auror, my godfather’s the Chosen One,
 But my father was a werewolf and I am a werewolf's son
 Yes, my father was a werewolf, that makes me a werewolf's son.