I was wrong. My heart didn't start beating at the opening. I wasn't excited at all. I was having a lot of fun, but there wasn't that feeling of excitement. It could have been any epic movie.
Until Dobby apparates everyone back to Shell Cottage.
He was so tiny and frail, with his big doe-y eyes gone so sleepy, it was horrifyingly reminiscent of my mom in her final days. That obviously got me crying. Then, it hit me again that Mom, who loved the books so much, didn't live to see the 7th book. Something she enjoyed so much went unfinished for her. That's cruel.
But that tiny, helpless frame of a body looking at you with huge eyes, struggling for the air to speak will haunt me forever. There's no running from it. Its now a part of who I am. Always.
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