Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I don’t have any written reviews for
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book or the movies, so since this is the much-awaited finale of the series that had made our childhood complete, I think I’m obliged to write something for it.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is my most favorite book from the series (second in
The Goblet of Fire), so I was really excited for the last movie to come out, although I was aching to see it end. I was ridiculously afraid to watch it because I didn’t want to see magical people die – even Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). And okay, because I couldn’t bare the reality of my favorite series ending. Endings, however “happily ever after” they may be, are
still endings. And endings are sad.
Part one of the movie was really good. I liked everything about it, especially the narration of “The Tales of the Three Brothers.” It was fascinating in every way. The “Seven Potters” was also fascinating. My jaw was dropped all throughout the transformations. The movie was also funny. Remember the part where Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe), Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) and Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint) copied the three officials’ faces to sneak into the Ministry of Magic? It was very hilarious. Ron was like, “Oh my God. What am I gonna do? My wife’s all alone downstairs,” (when he was told that his wife was in trial). And Harry told him, “Ron, you don’t have a wife.” And who didn’t love the moment when Hermione and Harry were dancing? Obviously, Harry couldn’t dance, but it was very cute.
Also, the part where Ron came back to join Harry and Hermione destroy Horcruxes again was really funny. A mad and frustrated Hermione was amusing to look at, and Ron’s face was also ridiculous because he looked so guilty.
“Hey.”
“You – complete – arse – Ronald Weasley! You show up here after weeks, and you say ‘Hey’?”
And that “ball of light from the Deluminator” was supposed to be something serious, but to me it was just so funny. Everything Ron Weasley did was always so funny to me. Later, Harry said, “Just keep talking about that little ball of light touching your heart and she’ll come around,” (when Ron asked how long Hermione would be mad at him). And he casted an “Engorgio” spell on the flames Hermione made using his new borrowed wand. It was really hilarious! It just showed how young and playful they still were.
Dobby’s (Tobby Jones) death was sad. I shamefully cried at that part.
“Such a happy place to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friends.” I could still remember Dobby back in the second book. He was very annoying, and I hated him before because he was such an over-protective house elf. He should have listened to Harry about not trying to save his (Harry’s) life again, but he didn’t. So he died. But his death made me like Harry more. He insisted on burying Dobby in a non-magical way, and it was such a moving and caring act. The characters definitely had grown over the past years. They became smarter and braver and more loyal to family and friends.
“I want to do it properly,” were the first words of which Harry was fully conscious of speaking. “Not by magic. Have you got a spade?” And shortly afterward he had set to work, alone, digging the grave in the place that Bill had shown him at the end of the garden, between bushes. He dug with a kind of fury, relishing the manual work, glorying in the non-magic of it, for every drop of his sweat and every blister felt like a gift to the elf who had saved their lives. (The Wandmaker, Chapter 24)
The second part of the movie was very action-packed. It should be. The anticipated “Hogwarts Battle” was amazingly done. One of the best parts in the battle was when Professor Minerva McGonagall (Dame Maggie Smith) headed the battle and asked all of the stone warriors to protect the castle. It was really good because McGonagall was adorable (“I’ve always wanted to use that spell!”). I had never seen her so excited. Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis) had grown the most. He was just that buck-toothed kid with his frog, Trevor and his poor memory, but he had always been very loyal and brave… just ungainly and awkward. But I liked how awkward he was. The part where he was jumping with bliss and confidence when the Death Eaters couldn’t go pass their protective charms was very hilarious! Oh, Neville. I was also excited to see him lead the Dumbledore’s Army and kill the snake with Godric Gryffindor’s sword. Did you notice how he refused to let the sword go out of his hands after the battle? His parents were surely very proud of him.
I loved Severus Snape’s (Alan Rickman) every scenes. His death was tragic, and I almost cried when he cried. It was very moving and his past, as well. “Look at me. You have you mother’s eyes.” Snape has one of the most incredible story lines all throughout the series. Who could have thought that first love never really dies? He was the most loyal and most loving. He could even have his own book!
“I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter –”
“But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”
“For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!”
From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.
“After all this time?”
“Always,” said Snape. (The Prince’s Tale, Chapter 33)
I didn’t like Fred Weasley’s (James Phelps) death scene, though. I didn’t see how he died because I wasn’t looking. It was so fast, and I didn’t cry when George Weasley (Oliver Phelps) was crying. It was annoying that I didn’t. It could have been better if Percy Weasley (Chris Rankin) was really there, because in the book, he was so devastated when Fred died (it was also when they all made up and had forgotten that Percy was a “Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron.”).
“No – no – no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! No!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face. (The Battle of Hogwarts, Chapter 31)
He and Ron had both grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the floor, but Percy lay across Fred’s body, shielding it from further harm, and when Harry shouted “Percy, come on, we’ve got to move!” he shook his head. “Percy!” Harry saw tear tracks streaking the grime coating Ron’s face as he seized his elder brother’s shoulders and pulled, but Percy would not budge. (The Elder Wand, Chapter 32)
Also, Kreacher wasn’t in the battle. I loved Kreacher. He was such a loyal elf.
The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleaver, and at their head, the locker of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog’s voice audible even above this din: “Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!” (The Flaw in the Plan, Chapter 36)
The much-awaited kiss between Ron and Hermione was quite fast and less memorable than how it was written. I remembered what Rupert Grint had said about the whole idea of him and Emma Watson kissing: “It’s quite uncomfortable. I’d rather kiss Daniel.” And I’ve also learned that they had shot the kissing scene when Daniel Radcliffe wasn’t around because he’d tease them. In the book, Harry was beside them when the two had kissed. I was actually looking forward to that scene because it was just humorous (why did I always find Harry Potter funny?).
There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
“Is this the moment?” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “Oi! There’s a war going on here!” Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.
“I know, mate,” said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, “so it’s now or never, isn’t it?” (The Battle of Hogwarts, Chapter 31)
But I loved how the Horcruxes were made – and destroyed. Lord Voldemort really was such an awfully ingenious wizard. I also loved the last part! After nineteen years, Ron grew fat and hairy; Hermione looked as young as before; Albus Severus was really such a good-looking kid; Harry’s scar had not pained him since Voldemort died; and all was well.
Harry Potter will never die. It will forever be part of our childhood. Harry Potter is like our own Horcrux – if it’s destroyed, somehow a part of us dies, but it will live as long as we let it live in our hearts, as long as we won’t forget how it had made our lives magical, as long as we will always feel young when we hear about it, as long as we will hold it as part of our lives forever.
More Inconsequential Matters
(A sequel to
“Inconsequential Matters”)
Hello blog! Hello dear readers! My less serious, more fun and happier posts are back again! I call such posts as “spontaneous ones” because of the name itself. These particular entries are more like unplanned and the words are more like they haven’t gone through meticulous thinking and alteration. I missed my blog like this. I always do. And I don’t want to share childhood stories and family struggles anymore, because they make me sad, and my level of self-pity is gradually increasing, and it’s annoying. Let’s go to the brighter side. Cliché, I know, but brighter sides always work.
Life and faith and God have been good to me this month. As you know, I am an out-of-school-youth (but I’m aching to go back to school next semester). But out of school as I am, I also am quite busy these days. I didn’t find work – I just turned eighteen. I – or maybe Mom – found something and somewhere to kill time productively. See, I enrolled in Instituto Cervantes de Manila, and it’s a language school. It teaches Spanish. I’m on my last three sessions, and it’s been very fun so far. I didn’t have any problems with our professor or making friends. My classmates are quite older than me (I am one of the younger ones; the youngest is fifteen) – and successful. It’s amazing how I get to know people who work in a cruise, in hospitals, in tutor schools and in publishing companies. I admit though that I sometimes feel figuratively small when I’m with them, because I’m out of school and have no life in the moment, and they are all successful and could somehow have the control of time in their bare hands. They aren’t show-offs; they’re modest and funny. It’s good – I learn a third language and meet new amigos.
My grandmother is currently in our house here. She’s here because of some insurance works in Veterans. I’m cool with it – I missed her. I’m just scared of her knowing that I’m actually not enrolled in a normal college and that I’m just taking language sessions. I hate disappointing her; I always feel guilty. Oh God, expectations haven’t really been my thing – at all.
As for my hobbies – reading and writing, to be precise – I’ve also been preoccupied. I’m currently reading
“The Mortal Instruments” series by Cassandra Clare. The series is about the world of
Shadowhunters (the skilled and blessed people who kills demons in their badass all-black gear and with their seraph blades) and the
Downworlders (creatures who are part-demon and part-human: werewolves, vampires, fairies and warlocks). I know, having all those unnatural elements in one series is a bit overwhelming, but Clare had written it very well. It’s funny and it has a lot – I really mean
a lot – of twists. I even cried because the characters’ pains and shock from believing in a lie and realizing the truth are hard to even imagine (and because I always feel like I’m one of those people in novels).
And, the characters are beautifully describe – I mean, they are all gorgeous in every way. I heard producers are making it into a movie, and I’m freakily excited. It’s really something to look forward to after
Harry Potter and
Twilight. I’ve also finished
“Demonglass” (Hex Hall sequel by Rachel Hawkins) and
“Beastly” (by Alex Flinn). After
The Mortal Instruments, I might “venture” into classic titles, maybe a Jane Austen or a Bronte.
Also, I’m currently working on my poorly-written and totally-and-officially-cliché short story
“Teenage Dreams.” I’ve started this “grade school project” (as what I categorize it) November last year… and so now I’m trying to bring it back again and eventually – in Merlin’s beard’s time – would finish it, and with a better plot and improved writing skills.
By the way, if you’ve seen the epic and unforgettable and blockbuster finale of the
“Harry Potter” series, please don’t spoil too much. Just
please don’t. I know I’ve been spoiling a lot myself, but don’t take this one on me. I’ve read the book, hence I know the ending. But the trailer has shown a lot of events that I don’t actually remember reading and coming across to in the novel, so I’m guessing it’ll be a bit different from the original one. I am utterly hyped and stoked to see it, but my friends and I had decided to see it on Sunday (the 24th) because of some schedule problems and, all right, dime. I can wait; I’m prolonging the desire and the anticipation for the finale. I’m not actually ready to see it end yet, what with all the dying and destructions and stuff, but I should face it.
All good things come to an end (another cliché)… and I am glad that
Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling had given us a good start and an awesome ending. I am glad
Harry Potter exists, and
forever it will.
I will let you know if I’ve seen it already and what I think of it (oh goodness, my crappy movie reviews will be back again – such unfortunate times). But for now, I should end this post. All good things come to an end, indeed (although this really isn’t one of the “good things”; it’s actually,
beyond doubt, inconsequential). (
c)
730 Days of Wonders
14 July 2011, Thursday
Dear
Diaries of Woes and Chaos,
Happy second blog anniversary, (or should I call it blogiversary?) baby D.O.W.A.C! I’m sorry if I couldn’t press my brain further to come up with a better nickname for you. At least I don’t call you “bloggie” anymore. We’re adults now – you’re two years old and I’m eighteen – so let’s skip all the goochie-goochie part. Although I don’t really know what a “goochie-goochie part” is.
If you are aware, I assume all nerds and movie buffs all over the world are talking about the epic finale of the Harry Potter series. Yes, today is the international release of The Deathly Hallows part two. And I know that you know that we both know that I am in love with this series, but since it’s your birthday, I would spend my July 14th with you. I would not think of Harry Potter right now and just focus on what we have shared for the past two juvenile and superb years. And I love you for believing in me although you clearly know that I won’t be able to not think of the series. I’m sorry, but I really am sincere when I say that I love you and that our past two years are juvenile and superb. But, to be honest, I almost had forgotten about your birthday because of my anticipation for that damned finale. I’m sorry, but see, I am not in the cinemas right now because I want to be with you today – this is true, and also because I don’t want to join the crowd on its first day.
Our past two years are juvenile – youthful, young, childish, fun, carefree – and superb. Remember when I blogged about my
first week in college, or that moment when
I cried in school because I was so afraid of needles when we had our medical exams? I was so excited about college those times so I write about those days everyday, as much as possible. But later on, it didn’t get so exciting anymore, so I stopped… but I continued blogging about school, about my
First College Crush, about our NSTP
outreach programs, about my problems with my friends, school, family, more school,
missing someone and more school (don’t you think almost all of my problems were because of school?). But,
tada, you never gave up on me. Although I bet my posts were all about the same issues, you had still accepted them and didn’t reject or not let me publish them. You’re an understanding blog – should I change your URL to http://diariesofthoughtfulthoughts.blogger.com now? Nah, I’d stick with
Diaries of Woes and Chaos and your baby D.O.W.A.C. nickname. I was actually thinking of putting up a fan page for you in Facebook, but I think that’ll be too much. I don’t really want inquisitive and strange eyes reading my posts and – probably – stalking on you. I’m already settled with just my affiliates, their visits and words. I love you enough to protect you from evil schemes and online prejudice.
Also, remember when I joined this
blogging contest in school where your sister blog won? I don’t really have a nickname yet for your baby sister.
The Girl Who Eats Books isn’t really a good pet name; it’s kind of mouthful. I haven’t canceled it yet because I’m planning on using that blog to possibly join more blogging contest in the future. Even though it was
The Girl Who Eats Books that won and not you,
Diaries of Woes and Chaos, you still have the praises for the priceless achievement because: 1) you both are under one account and one handler; 2) I wouldn’t have done all the writing techniques (whoa,
techniques) and template tweaking without my experience blogging with you; and 3) your sister blog doesn’t have a tag board, so all the words from the readers go directly to your tag board. So don’t be jealous; I love you both.
Some of my posts this year are all about
life and
God. Aren’t you proud? Not only did we survive another year, but we also had improved spiritually! The moment I started posting my takes on life, love, hopes, strength and believing in God, my affiliates have been giving us nice words and hence, making me want to write more that way. We’ve gained love, D.O.W.A.C! We’ve gained views. We’ve gained friends and new links. We’ve gained stronger faith and ties. That’s really awesome, don’t you think? I guess that’s what we get when we work together amicably and blog all our hearts out.
I’m hoping to spend more years with you, baby D.O.W.A.C! Hopefully, when your tenth-year anniversary comes, we’d both be famous (ha!) and both have a better outlook in life and I would have better writing skills and grammar –
and, I won’t blog about heartaches and false hopes and Dementors hovering above my head anymore.
I love you, my blog. I will never give up on you, not now that our posts are getting longer and deeper each time.
You are my blog. You will still be until I grow old, until I stop obsessing over Sam Concepcion (which will take forever, mind you), until I stop loving books and fictions (which is impossible), until I find it hard to look for letters and punctuation marks on the keyboard already, until I couldn’t read from the monitor without wearing thick reading glasses because of my poor eyes anymore, not even when Tumblr or any other microblogging sites dominate the blogging society already.
You will be my blog forever, I promise.
Always with love,
CF S. Ordas
Legally Childish
Today is my birthday.I am already eighteen years old – and I still don’t know how to open blog posts in a creative manner (
“Today is my birthday” – how unadorned and annoying and childish and amateur). But that’s right, I’m already eighteen. I’m now part of that stage – that stage when someone tries to be mature and responsible but also still wants to be juvenile and careless at the same time. That’s one of the “lifetime lessons” I’ve learned while growing up: that sometimes we don’t want to be considered an adult because we are afraid of responsibilities and committing mistakes, but we also don’t want to be looked upon as a child because we don’t want to be guarded all the time and because we want to try such “adult activities” like drinking, smoking, partying, making out, even sleeping with someone without our guardians telling us not to (although I wager everyone who had the guts had tried them already – teenage hormones). Well, I did.
I had. I’m already eighteen, and I’ve tried stuff that kids under eighteen shouldn’t. I’ve tried drinking something alcoholic but not (definitely not) smoking cigars or pot or drugs, partying (kid’s party – wait, is that counted?), and making out (I had my first kiss when I was fifteen) but haven’t tried sex (in my case, sex can wait).
The experiences and challenges I’ve went through for the past eighteen years may have influence the way I’m acting right now –
part adult, part child. You can say that I became mature at a very early age. When I was very young and could get away from my mischiefs with just making a cute face, I’ve had a normal and happy life. I had a nanny, a birthday party, a cute dress and
Barbie dolls. But the time I went to middle school was the time when my life became complicated and sour (and I wouldn’t try explaining why because it would take me forever). Hence,
maturity came insanely fast and early. With my family’s state, immediate maturity was a must. Childish matters weren’t entertained. I couldn’t bawl my eyes out every time I didn’t get what I want. I couldn’t throw tantrums when someone switched the channel while I was watching my favorite series. I couldn’t complain about my allowance. I couldn’t cry in front of them every time I missed my mom. I couldn’t curse my life when I didn’t celebrate every passing birth days I had.
Not that I hate the family that had raised me, because I really don’t. I am not a hypocrite. I owe them everything.
I love them. They didn’t do anything wrong, nor did they hurt me. I was just too selfish and insecure to still ask for a perfect life. I could have asked for a different life had it been allowed. But while I was growing up, I realized that maybe life’s really like that. We can’t just ask for something life changing and magically have it in our hands the next day.
We all go through tough times; we all have our own crosses to bear. Those who can successfully bear their crosses are the ones who can see and live life beyond its imperfections. And those who can bear them with grace had undergone rigorous poising, refinement and personality development trainings.
Growing up was –
is – hard, but definitely fun. Because of becoming mature early, my mind suddenly becomes tainted with silly and childish thoughts. I suddenly have the desire to buy coloring books, stickers, balloons, plastic balloons; ride the carousel and Ferris wheel; watch cartoons over and over again; learn magic; believe in fairies; play tag and hide-and-seek with children. All the activities I’ve done before – and have not – come rushing back and push me to act all child-like again. I like it. I like the feeling. I never would have wanted to forget about my past – to forget that I had a lot of bruises and wounds before because I tend to fall down all the time, that I once had a butterfly hair pin which was destroyed the next day because it was so cute I just had to play with them till they fall apart, that I once cried and ran back to our house’s safety because my childhood friend scared the hell out of me when he showed up with a gorilla rubber mask (he also had an ugly- and scary-looking clown mask – that was more terrifying), that I played in the rain naked (when I was very young, of course, not, like, puberty stage – I don’t think playing naked on puberty is a good idea), that I always had to stay in the bedroom or the comfort room until Michael Jackson’s
“Thriller” finished playing because I was so scared of it I almost had the burning desire to break the disc into pieces (though of course, I didn’t; my father would have killed me), that there was this boy whom I was very close to that our friends had made us a love team – which was insane (I met him again last summer, and it was really uncomfortable). I had a very awkward childhood, very complicated past, but never had I regret them (maybe some of them I hated and would never do again). My childhood is what I can always look back to, recollect, and find myself laughing or crying or laughing and crying at the same time. My past is what helped me become who I am today,
after eighteen years.
I am eighteen years old now – although I would have wished to stay fifteen or seventeen “the vampire age” forever – and I’m still myself: old soul, young mind, careless, weird and wonderful. And I’m lucky that I have tons of stories and pasts I can freely look back to, recollect, and find myself laughing or crying or laughing and crying at the same time.
If you’re wondering if I had a debut or a bash party, I didn’t. I’m not that type who likes throwing party till the sun goes up. I hate the idea of cotillions and cheesy dances and messages from friends with those unnecessary tears in their eyes. And how do I celebrate my birthdays? I treat myself to shopping and watching
Harry Potter. I can be as simple and weird and kill joy and practical like that.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I don’t have any written reviews for
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book or the movies, so since this is the much-awaited finale of the series that had made our childhood complete, I think I’m obliged to write something for it.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is my most favorite book from the series (second in
The Goblet of Fire), so I was really excited for the last movie to come out, although I was aching to see it end. I was ridiculously afraid to watch it because I didn’t want to see magical people die – even Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). And okay, because I couldn’t bare the reality of my favorite series ending. Endings, however “happily ever after” they may be, are
still endings. And endings are sad.
Part one of the movie was really good. I liked everything about it, especially the narration of “The Tales of the Three Brothers.” It was fascinating in every way. The “Seven Potters” was also fascinating. My jaw was dropped all throughout the transformations. The movie was also funny. Remember the part where Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe), Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) and Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint) copied the three officials’ faces to sneak into the Ministry of Magic? It was very hilarious. Ron was like, “Oh my God. What am I gonna do? My wife’s all alone downstairs,” (when he was told that his wife was in trial). And Harry told him, “Ron, you don’t have a wife.” And who didn’t love the moment when Hermione and Harry were dancing? Obviously, Harry couldn’t dance, but it was very cute.
Also, the part where Ron came back to join Harry and Hermione destroy Horcruxes again was really funny. A mad and frustrated Hermione was amusing to look at, and Ron’s face was also ridiculous because he looked so guilty.
“Hey.”
“You – complete – arse – Ronald Weasley! You show up here after weeks, and you say ‘Hey’?”
And that “ball of light from the Deluminator” was supposed to be something serious, but to me it was just so funny. Everything Ron Weasley did was always so funny to me. Later, Harry said, “Just keep talking about that little ball of light touching your heart and she’ll come around,” (when Ron asked how long Hermione would be mad at him). And he casted an “Engorgio” spell on the flames Hermione made using his new borrowed wand. It was really hilarious! It just showed how young and playful they still were.
Dobby’s (Tobby Jones) death was sad. I shamefully cried at that part.
“Such a happy place to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friends.” I could still remember Dobby back in the second book. He was very annoying, and I hated him before because he was such an over-protective house elf. He should have listened to Harry about not trying to save his (Harry’s) life again, but he didn’t. So he died. But his death made me like Harry more. He insisted on burying Dobby in a non-magical way, and it was such a moving and caring act. The characters definitely had grown over the past years. They became smarter and braver and more loyal to family and friends.
“I want to do it properly,” were the first words of which Harry was fully conscious of speaking. “Not by magic. Have you got a spade?” And shortly afterward he had set to work, alone, digging the grave in the place that Bill had shown him at the end of the garden, between bushes. He dug with a kind of fury, relishing the manual work, glorying in the non-magic of it, for every drop of his sweat and every blister felt like a gift to the elf who had saved their lives. (The Wandmaker, Chapter 24)
The second part of the movie was very action-packed. It should be. The anticipated “Hogwarts Battle” was amazingly done. One of the best parts in the battle was when Professor Minerva McGonagall (Dame Maggie Smith) headed the battle and asked all of the stone warriors to protect the castle. It was really good because McGonagall was adorable (“I’ve always wanted to use that spell!”). I had never seen her so excited. Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis) had grown the most. He was just that buck-toothed kid with his frog, Trevor and his poor memory, but he had always been very loyal and brave… just ungainly and awkward. But I liked how awkward he was. The part where he was jumping with bliss and confidence when the Death Eaters couldn’t go pass their protective charms was very hilarious! Oh, Neville. I was also excited to see him lead the Dumbledore’s Army and kill the snake with Godric Gryffindor’s sword. Did you notice how he refused to let the sword go out of his hands after the battle? His parents were surely very proud of him.
I loved Severus Snape’s (Alan Rickman) every scenes. His death was tragic, and I almost cried when he cried. It was very moving and his past, as well. “Look at me. You have you mother’s eyes.” Snape has one of the most incredible story lines all throughout the series. Who could have thought that first love never really dies? He was the most loyal and most loving. He could even have his own book!
“I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter –”
“But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”
“For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!”
From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.
“After all this time?”
“Always,” said Snape. (The Prince’s Tale, Chapter 33)
I didn’t like Fred Weasley’s (James Phelps) death scene, though. I didn’t see how he died because I wasn’t looking. It was so fast, and I didn’t cry when George Weasley (Oliver Phelps) was crying. It was annoying that I didn’t. It could have been better if Percy Weasley (Chris Rankin) was really there, because in the book, he was so devastated when Fred died (it was also when they all made up and had forgotten that Percy was a “Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron.”).
“No – no – no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! No!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face. (The Battle of Hogwarts, Chapter 31)
He and Ron had both grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the floor, but Percy lay across Fred’s body, shielding it from further harm, and when Harry shouted “Percy, come on, we’ve got to move!” he shook his head. “Percy!” Harry saw tear tracks streaking the grime coating Ron’s face as he seized his elder brother’s shoulders and pulled, but Percy would not budge. (The Elder Wand, Chapter 32)
Also, Kreacher wasn’t in the battle. I loved Kreacher. He was such a loyal elf.
The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleaver, and at their head, the locker of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog’s voice audible even above this din: “Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!” (The Flaw in the Plan, Chapter 36)
The much-awaited kiss between Ron and Hermione was quite fast and less memorable than how it was written. I remembered what Rupert Grint had said about the whole idea of him and Emma Watson kissing: “It’s quite uncomfortable. I’d rather kiss Daniel.” And I’ve also learned that they had shot the kissing scene when Daniel Radcliffe wasn’t around because he’d tease them. In the book, Harry was beside them when the two had kissed. I was actually looking forward to that scene because it was just humorous (why did I always find Harry Potter funny?).
There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
“Is this the moment?” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “Oi! There’s a war going on here!” Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.
“I know, mate,” said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, “so it’s now or never, isn’t it?” (The Battle of Hogwarts, Chapter 31)
But I loved how the Horcruxes were made – and destroyed. Lord Voldemort really was such an awfully ingenious wizard. I also loved the last part! After nineteen years, Ron grew fat and hairy; Hermione looked as young as before; Albus Severus was really such a good-looking kid; Harry’s scar had not pained him since Voldemort died; and all was well.
Harry Potter will never die. It will forever be part of our childhood. Harry Potter is like our own Horcrux – if it’s destroyed, somehow a part of us dies, but it will live as long as we let it live in our hearts, as long as we won’t forget how it had made our lives magical, as long as we will always feel young when we hear about it, as long as we will hold it as part of our lives forever.
More Inconsequential Matters
(A sequel to
“Inconsequential Matters”)
Hello blog! Hello dear readers! My less serious, more fun and happier posts are back again! I call such posts as “spontaneous ones” because of the name itself. These particular entries are more like unplanned and the words are more like they haven’t gone through meticulous thinking and alteration. I missed my blog like this. I always do. And I don’t want to share childhood stories and family struggles anymore, because they make me sad, and my level of self-pity is gradually increasing, and it’s annoying. Let’s go to the brighter side. Cliché, I know, but brighter sides always work.
Life and faith and God have been good to me this month. As you know, I am an out-of-school-youth (but I’m aching to go back to school next semester). But out of school as I am, I also am quite busy these days. I didn’t find work – I just turned eighteen. I – or maybe Mom – found something and somewhere to kill time productively. See, I enrolled in Instituto Cervantes de Manila, and it’s a language school. It teaches Spanish. I’m on my last three sessions, and it’s been very fun so far. I didn’t have any problems with our professor or making friends. My classmates are quite older than me (I am one of the younger ones; the youngest is fifteen) – and successful. It’s amazing how I get to know people who work in a cruise, in hospitals, in tutor schools and in publishing companies. I admit though that I sometimes feel figuratively small when I’m with them, because I’m out of school and have no life in the moment, and they are all successful and could somehow have the control of time in their bare hands. They aren’t show-offs; they’re modest and funny. It’s good – I learn a third language and meet new amigos.
My grandmother is currently in our house here. She’s here because of some insurance works in Veterans. I’m cool with it – I missed her. I’m just scared of her knowing that I’m actually not enrolled in a normal college and that I’m just taking language sessions. I hate disappointing her; I always feel guilty. Oh God, expectations haven’t really been my thing – at all.
As for my hobbies – reading and writing, to be precise – I’ve also been preoccupied. I’m currently reading
“The Mortal Instruments” series by Cassandra Clare. The series is about the world of
Shadowhunters (the skilled and blessed people who kills demons in their badass all-black gear and with their seraph blades) and the
Downworlders (creatures who are part-demon and part-human: werewolves, vampires, fairies and warlocks). I know, having all those unnatural elements in one series is a bit overwhelming, but Clare had written it very well. It’s funny and it has a lot – I really mean
a lot – of twists. I even cried because the characters’ pains and shock from believing in a lie and realizing the truth are hard to even imagine (and because I always feel like I’m one of those people in novels).
And, the characters are beautifully describe – I mean, they are all gorgeous in every way. I heard producers are making it into a movie, and I’m freakily excited. It’s really something to look forward to after
Harry Potter and
Twilight. I’ve also finished
“Demonglass” (Hex Hall sequel by Rachel Hawkins) and
“Beastly” (by Alex Flinn). After
The Mortal Instruments, I might “venture” into classic titles, maybe a Jane Austen or a Bronte.
Also, I’m currently working on my poorly-written and totally-and-officially-cliché short story
“Teenage Dreams.” I’ve started this “grade school project” (as what I categorize it) November last year… and so now I’m trying to bring it back again and eventually – in Merlin’s beard’s time – would finish it, and with a better plot and improved writing skills.
By the way, if you’ve seen the epic and unforgettable and blockbuster finale of the
“Harry Potter” series, please don’t spoil too much. Just
please don’t. I know I’ve been spoiling a lot myself, but don’t take this one on me. I’ve read the book, hence I know the ending. But the trailer has shown a lot of events that I don’t actually remember reading and coming across to in the novel, so I’m guessing it’ll be a bit different from the original one. I am utterly hyped and stoked to see it, but my friends and I had decided to see it on Sunday (the 24th) because of some schedule problems and, all right, dime. I can wait; I’m prolonging the desire and the anticipation for the finale. I’m not actually ready to see it end yet, what with all the dying and destructions and stuff, but I should face it.
All good things come to an end (another cliché)… and I am glad that
Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling had given us a good start and an awesome ending. I am glad
Harry Potter exists, and
forever it will.
I will let you know if I’ve seen it already and what I think of it (oh goodness, my crappy movie reviews will be back again – such unfortunate times). But for now, I should end this post. All good things come to an end, indeed (although this really isn’t one of the “good things”; it’s actually,
beyond doubt, inconsequential). (
c)
730 Days of Wonders
14 July 2011, Thursday
Dear
Diaries of Woes and Chaos,
Happy second blog anniversary, (or should I call it blogiversary?) baby D.O.W.A.C! I’m sorry if I couldn’t press my brain further to come up with a better nickname for you. At least I don’t call you “bloggie” anymore. We’re adults now – you’re two years old and I’m eighteen – so let’s skip all the goochie-goochie part. Although I don’t really know what a “goochie-goochie part” is.
If you are aware, I assume all nerds and movie buffs all over the world are talking about the epic finale of the Harry Potter series. Yes, today is the international release of The Deathly Hallows part two. And I know that you know that we both know that I am in love with this series, but since it’s your birthday, I would spend my July 14th with you. I would not think of Harry Potter right now and just focus on what we have shared for the past two juvenile and superb years. And I love you for believing in me although you clearly know that I won’t be able to not think of the series. I’m sorry, but I really am sincere when I say that I love you and that our past two years are juvenile and superb. But, to be honest, I almost had forgotten about your birthday because of my anticipation for that damned finale. I’m sorry, but see, I am not in the cinemas right now because I want to be with you today – this is true, and also because I don’t want to join the crowd on its first day.
Our past two years are juvenile – youthful, young, childish, fun, carefree – and superb. Remember when I blogged about my
first week in college, or that moment when
I cried in school because I was so afraid of needles when we had our medical exams? I was so excited about college those times so I write about those days everyday, as much as possible. But later on, it didn’t get so exciting anymore, so I stopped… but I continued blogging about school, about my
First College Crush, about our NSTP
outreach programs, about my problems with my friends, school, family, more school,
missing someone and more school (don’t you think almost all of my problems were because of school?). But,
tada, you never gave up on me. Although I bet my posts were all about the same issues, you had still accepted them and didn’t reject or not let me publish them. You’re an understanding blog – should I change your URL to http://diariesofthoughtfulthoughts.blogger.com now? Nah, I’d stick with
Diaries of Woes and Chaos and your baby D.O.W.A.C. nickname. I was actually thinking of putting up a fan page for you in Facebook, but I think that’ll be too much. I don’t really want inquisitive and strange eyes reading my posts and – probably – stalking on you. I’m already settled with just my affiliates, their visits and words. I love you enough to protect you from evil schemes and online prejudice.
Also, remember when I joined this
blogging contest in school where your sister blog won? I don’t really have a nickname yet for your baby sister.
The Girl Who Eats Books isn’t really a good pet name; it’s kind of mouthful. I haven’t canceled it yet because I’m planning on using that blog to possibly join more blogging contest in the future. Even though it was
The Girl Who Eats Books that won and not you,
Diaries of Woes and Chaos, you still have the praises for the priceless achievement because: 1) you both are under one account and one handler; 2) I wouldn’t have done all the writing techniques (whoa,
techniques) and template tweaking without my experience blogging with you; and 3) your sister blog doesn’t have a tag board, so all the words from the readers go directly to your tag board. So don’t be jealous; I love you both.
Some of my posts this year are all about
life and
God. Aren’t you proud? Not only did we survive another year, but we also had improved spiritually! The moment I started posting my takes on life, love, hopes, strength and believing in God, my affiliates have been giving us nice words and hence, making me want to write more that way. We’ve gained love, D.O.W.A.C! We’ve gained views. We’ve gained friends and new links. We’ve gained stronger faith and ties. That’s really awesome, don’t you think? I guess that’s what we get when we work together amicably and blog all our hearts out.
I’m hoping to spend more years with you, baby D.O.W.A.C! Hopefully, when your tenth-year anniversary comes, we’d both be famous (ha!) and both have a better outlook in life and I would have better writing skills and grammar –
and, I won’t blog about heartaches and false hopes and Dementors hovering above my head anymore.
I love you, my blog. I will never give up on you, not now that our posts are getting longer and deeper each time.
You are my blog. You will still be until I grow old, until I stop obsessing over Sam Concepcion (which will take forever, mind you), until I stop loving books and fictions (which is impossible), until I find it hard to look for letters and punctuation marks on the keyboard already, until I couldn’t read from the monitor without wearing thick reading glasses because of my poor eyes anymore, not even when Tumblr or any other microblogging sites dominate the blogging society already.
You will be my blog forever, I promise.
Always with love,
CF S. Ordas
Legally Childish
Today is my birthday.I am already eighteen years old – and I still don’t know how to open blog posts in a creative manner (
“Today is my birthday” – how unadorned and annoying and childish and amateur). But that’s right, I’m already eighteen. I’m now part of that stage – that stage when someone tries to be mature and responsible but also still wants to be juvenile and careless at the same time. That’s one of the “lifetime lessons” I’ve learned while growing up: that sometimes we don’t want to be considered an adult because we are afraid of responsibilities and committing mistakes, but we also don’t want to be looked upon as a child because we don’t want to be guarded all the time and because we want to try such “adult activities” like drinking, smoking, partying, making out, even sleeping with someone without our guardians telling us not to (although I wager everyone who had the guts had tried them already – teenage hormones). Well, I did.
I had. I’m already eighteen, and I’ve tried stuff that kids under eighteen shouldn’t. I’ve tried drinking something alcoholic but not (definitely not) smoking cigars or pot or drugs, partying (kid’s party – wait, is that counted?), and making out (I had my first kiss when I was fifteen) but haven’t tried sex (in my case, sex can wait).
The experiences and challenges I’ve went through for the past eighteen years may have influence the way I’m acting right now –
part adult, part child. You can say that I became mature at a very early age. When I was very young and could get away from my mischiefs with just making a cute face, I’ve had a normal and happy life. I had a nanny, a birthday party, a cute dress and
Barbie dolls. But the time I went to middle school was the time when my life became complicated and sour (and I wouldn’t try explaining why because it would take me forever). Hence,
maturity came insanely fast and early. With my family’s state, immediate maturity was a must. Childish matters weren’t entertained. I couldn’t bawl my eyes out every time I didn’t get what I want. I couldn’t throw tantrums when someone switched the channel while I was watching my favorite series. I couldn’t complain about my allowance. I couldn’t cry in front of them every time I missed my mom. I couldn’t curse my life when I didn’t celebrate every passing birth days I had.
Not that I hate the family that had raised me, because I really don’t. I am not a hypocrite. I owe them everything.
I love them. They didn’t do anything wrong, nor did they hurt me. I was just too selfish and insecure to still ask for a perfect life. I could have asked for a different life had it been allowed. But while I was growing up, I realized that maybe life’s really like that. We can’t just ask for something life changing and magically have it in our hands the next day.
We all go through tough times; we all have our own crosses to bear. Those who can successfully bear their crosses are the ones who can see and live life beyond its imperfections. And those who can bear them with grace had undergone rigorous poising, refinement and personality development trainings.
Growing up was –
is – hard, but definitely fun. Because of becoming mature early, my mind suddenly becomes tainted with silly and childish thoughts. I suddenly have the desire to buy coloring books, stickers, balloons, plastic balloons; ride the carousel and Ferris wheel; watch cartoons over and over again; learn magic; believe in fairies; play tag and hide-and-seek with children. All the activities I’ve done before – and have not – come rushing back and push me to act all child-like again. I like it. I like the feeling. I never would have wanted to forget about my past – to forget that I had a lot of bruises and wounds before because I tend to fall down all the time, that I once had a butterfly hair pin which was destroyed the next day because it was so cute I just had to play with them till they fall apart, that I once cried and ran back to our house’s safety because my childhood friend scared the hell out of me when he showed up with a gorilla rubber mask (he also had an ugly- and scary-looking clown mask – that was more terrifying), that I played in the rain naked (when I was very young, of course, not, like, puberty stage – I don’t think playing naked on puberty is a good idea), that I always had to stay in the bedroom or the comfort room until Michael Jackson’s
“Thriller” finished playing because I was so scared of it I almost had the burning desire to break the disc into pieces (though of course, I didn’t; my father would have killed me), that there was this boy whom I was very close to that our friends had made us a love team – which was insane (I met him again last summer, and it was really uncomfortable). I had a very awkward childhood, very complicated past, but never had I regret them (maybe some of them I hated and would never do again). My childhood is what I can always look back to, recollect, and find myself laughing or crying or laughing and crying at the same time. My past is what helped me become who I am today,
after eighteen years.
I am eighteen years old now – although I would have wished to stay fifteen or seventeen “the vampire age” forever – and I’m still myself: old soul, young mind, careless, weird and wonderful. And I’m lucky that I have tons of stories and pasts I can freely look back to, recollect, and find myself laughing or crying or laughing and crying at the same time.
If you’re wondering if I had a debut or a bash party, I didn’t. I’m not that type who likes throwing party till the sun goes up. I hate the idea of cotillions and cheesy dances and messages from friends with those unnecessary tears in their eyes. And how do I celebrate my birthdays? I treat myself to shopping and watching
Harry Potter. I can be as simple and weird and kill joy and practical like that.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
