Monday, 18 July 2011
A voice. Your voice, Hermione.
I don’t think it’ll be surprising news to any of you guys that I’ve seen Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two four times in the last four days. I have the weirdest relationship with Potter movies. The first time I am always so excited and so nervous that I’m literally vibrating in my seat the whole way through it. The second time I appreciate it as a whole different thing than the book. The third time I appreciate it as a work of art. And the fourth time I just feel so fucking happy to have grown up in the Potter Generation.
I thought the last movie was going to slay me. I mean, I pre-mourned for weeks leading up to it. Some days, I’d just be working on something totally unrelated to anything magical and tears would just start leaking out of my eyes, like my insides were so sad even if I didn’t have time to think about it. But then, the most amazing thing happened in the movie: I only teared up two times. My poor, darling sister started crying as soon as Snape came on-screen and kept crying for the rest of the whole time. Just inconsolable sobbing.
Last night, though, after seeing it for the fourth time, I followed the rabbit hole down, down, down, down into some Ron and Hermione fan vidoes.
And then I lost it.
And now I commit my soul to some very old, very worn-out fanfiction.
Posted by Heather Anne Hogan at 7:00 pm