All is Well

WARNING:
this entry contains SPOILERS and COMMENTS about the FINAL SAGA in the HARRY POTTER SERIES. If you have NOT read DEATHLY HALLOWS :

DO NOT READ THIS ENTRY.


STOP. NOW. OK. For the rest of you guys. The entry begins here:






I waited in line til midnight on Friday. And came home. And after a lengthy chat with friends, I snuggled into bed. I then noticed the inside cover of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. In previous books, as well as most books I've read, they give a description of the adventure to come. Maybe what's in store for Harry Potter. Maybe what he's already encountered. In order to give you - a little heads up.

This is how the inside cover of Harry Potter read:

"We now present the seventh and final installment in the epic tale of Harry Potter."

Holy fuck.

I snuggled in closer. And started to read. I started about four o'clock in the morning and didn't get very far. I was tired and did not want to ruin a good paragraph with a quick nod off. So, I put the book aside and fell asleep.

Saturday morning comes. I've slept in til 12 noon and realized, I've been wasting good reading time. I reached over and grabbed the book and started where I've left off. Voldemort was about to kill someone. A teacher from Hogwarts, I've not remembered. He does so.

And the story begins.

Harry Potter says good bye to the Dursleys for the last time. Dudley is sweet and amazing. I feel sad. Already. On page 40. It's the end. Then shit goes down. On page 60.

Harry Potter isn't a sweet story anymore. It's violent. And angry - and deadly. And my theory about Snape being a good guy - is falling out the window. Fuck, I said to myself. This isn't going to end well.

And people can die now - because it's the end.

I continue to read. I switch angles. And positions. I get up from bed, still in my boxer briefs and head to the couch. I'm home alone. For five weeks. No one to disturb me. I continue to read.

Time goes on. I'm on page 200. I'm in the adventure. I'm hungry. Harry Potter and Ron have split. Herminone is hanging in the tent. What's going to happen. How are they going to discover what's happened.

It's winter now. Hurry up!

I end a chapter and grab a sleeve of Wheat Ritz crackers. I eat them and continue to read. Crumbs falling on my chest.

I don't care.

I continue reading. The mailman has come. I think I should check the mail. But I'm still not dressed and don't dare go out in public in my underwear.

So, I continue to read.

And then I decide to put on a shirt and jeans to just check the mail. I get over to the dresser. My book still in hand. I put on a white tee shirt.

But continue to read.

It's just too important. The adventure is too close to the end - to stop.

I get colder. I need to put on some pants. I finally do so. And check the mail. I barely look it over. My brain, not fully aware. I head back to the couch, this time my feet over my head.

And I continue.

It's 6:00 now. And Harry Potter has been caught by Greyback. He's in Malfoy Manor. There is no escape.

Except for Dobby.

And Dobby saves the day.

And then.

Dobby.

Dies.

I cry. And not just a tear coming out of my eye. But cry very fucking hard. And then. I start to laugh, hard. Incredibly hard. I'm embarrassed at the state I'm in. I've just become the boy from The Neverending Story. The boy in the attic with the big book. Who's talking back. Reading past dark. Has covers over his head. Unaware of the universe around him. Escaping into the realm of the unreal.

Harry Potter continues.

My back starts to hurt. No matter which angle or position I sleep in.

I continue.

I'm hungry again.

What do I need to eat?

Soup and some bread and butter to dip with. I hurry to the kitchen toss some soup in a can - throw butter over a few slices of bread and then pour the soup in a bowl. I hurry back to the book. Apologize to myself for letting Harry Potter wait for me.

And we continue.

It's getting tough.

Where are the final Horcruxes... son of a bitch. I get up, the book on top of the T.V. I go over and grab a notepad and write down the seven that we know of. What was the seventh? The diary. I forgot. (I look in book six under the chapter titled The Horcruxes) to remember.

I cross out those which Harry Potter and Ron and Herminone have destroyed. And circle the ones left.

We continue.

Time passes. I'm so close. It's four in the morning. Snape is killed by Voldemort. And at first, I think he's bleeding silver blood. I soon realize, I misread and find it's a memory.

I was right.

We run up to Dumbledore's old office and look into the Pensieve. I finally am justified in my theory. A theory first given to me by my good friend Tiina. Snape is good. He was told by Dumbledore to kill him.

She was right.

And then, I feel asleep reading. I woke up and forgot what I just read. I had to go to bed.

Fuck.

I needed to finish. Less than a hundred pages.

I went to bed.

And read some more.

Before falling asleep.

I woke up. Forcing my eyes awake. I had an appoint to edit today. To do some voice over but I had to finish. Everything had to wait. Harry Potter needs to kill Voldemort.

And then.

Harry Potter dies.

Ah ha!

This IS the hero's journey. The Jesus tale. Gilgamesh. Athurian through and through. Harry Potter is resurrected. And he finally understands. The elixer of life is love. Is truth. And understanding. And the ability to regret.

Voldemort is destroyed.

And.

As the final words of the book describe.

All is well.

If I ever meet J.K. Rowling. I'm going to hug the shit out of her. She's incredible.