Bloody hell. Bloody sodding hell. It was wonderful until the end, when Rowling decided to waste one of the series most interesting characters far too soon and too easily. He didn't get to die in prolonged agony, suffering bravely. He didn't get to breath his last with his head cradled by his sobbing friend and/or lover, there wasn't even a horribly mangled body for people to weep heartbrokenly over. It was just... too easy. Too quick. I would have at least let him kill someone first.
You've betrayed me, Rowling! See if I take your bleeding book to Ireland with me! I'm giving it to my Mom, so she can put in in her classroom to be mauled by middle-schoolers.
You've betrayed me, Rowling! See if I take your bleeding book to Ireland with me! I'm giving it to my Mom, so she can put in in her classroom to be mauled by middle-schoolers.