Friday, July 15, 2011
The last Potter movie (or the end of an era)
It seems that only yesterday, I was twelve years old and walking up to Number Four Privet Drive for the first time.
That was when Pottercraze took over my life. If I was raking leaves, watering the plants, pulling weeds, I was in Herbology. If I was helping cook dinner, the kitchen was transformed into a Potions classroom, and I was trying to properly mix my Draught of Living Death potion. Walking the dogs and cleaning the gerbil's cage became Care of Magical Creatures. I proudly flourished the wand I had carved myself against my siblings in wizard duels that we held in the backyard. In short, I was obsessed.
I flung the fifth across the room and into the kitchen when Siruis died, and stared in horrified shock when Snape killed Dumbledore. I argued against trusting Snape (that backstabber!) with my fellow fans, and read the seventh the night we got it.
I love the movies, although they did leave out some things (SPEW, anyone?) and dressed up as Tonks for Part One of Deathly Hallows.
I still have the wand I carved for myself, in my pencil holder on my desk. After this last movie, I'll still enjoy jumping out at people and hexing them with it. Tarantellegra!