This is a 90% Harry Potter blog with some Hunger Games.
Harry Potter is, and will always be, my life, inspiration, obsession, and love.
97brokenprophecies>isthisrealorinmyhead
“I have had no control over my life. I have lived in a complete bubble. They found me and picked me for the part. And now I’m desperately trying to find my way through it.”
“Well she got me the job at Potter, practically, so for anyone who doesn’t know that story, I basically owe everything to Maggie Smith because I worked with her on David Copperfield and then she came on to Potter as McGonagall and said to the director, ‘You need to audition this boy.’ So I kind of owe her everything, so to Maggie I just say my fairy godmother.” — Daniel Radcliffe (on the first thing that comes to mind about Maggie)
“Daniel was so lovely to work with. I’m so glad I insisted they see him for the part.” — Maggie Smith (on being part of the Harry Potter films)
TOP 7 PLACES I’D LIKE TO VISIT (in the Harry Potter world) ϟ
#2 → Godric’s Hollow.It definetely would be the most emotional places to visit. Being a proud Gryffindor as I am, I’d love to visit the place where the founder of my house was born. I’d be magical, like all the journey completed, I don’t know how to say it. And being attract to the Marauders as I am and loving Lily and James as much as I love them… Godric’s Hollow is like a compulsory place to visit. I’d probably cry a lot in front of their house, with that beautiful monument that wasn’t shown in the movies. So I pick Godric’s Hollow as the second place mainly because of the emotional power it has for me. And also because it’s the place where everything started.
I want to do something, right here, right now, to shame them, to make them accountable, to show the Capitol that whatever they do or force us to do there is a par of every tribute they can’t own. That Rue was more than a piece in their Games. And so am I.
A few steps into the woods grows a bank of wildflowers. Perhaps they are really weeds of some sort, but they have blossoms in beautiful shades of violet and yellow and white. I gather up an armful and come back to Rue’s side. Slowly, one stem at a time, I decorate her body in the flowers. Covering the ugly wound. Wreathing her face. Weaving her hair in bright colors.
They’ll have to show it. Or, even if they choose to turn the cameras elsewhere at this moment, they’ll have to bring them back when they collect the bodies and everyone will see her then and know I did it. I step back and take one last look at Rue. She could really be asleep in that meadow after all.
“Bye, Rue,” I whisper. I press the three middle fingers of my left hand against my lips and hold them out in her direction. Then I walk away without looking back.
