brain's brian

I will now reveal to you, my loyal tumblr audience, a vision that came to me last night in a dream. This is how the Harry Potter series comes to an end.

It is opening night. There is a stale anticipation in the air. The kind one can sense but plays no active part in. The lights dim, and the show is about to begin. As the overly talkative parents reluctantly find their way back to their seats, bracing themselves, each in their own way, for whatever they might have to endure for the next few hours, I hear footsteps quickly approaching on my right. I look up just in time to see Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang, charging towards me and raising his wand. Sensing the importance of this moment in the fate of the universe, I take it upon myself to rid the world of Karkaroff, here and now, shouting “AVADA KEDAVRA” with a flourish of my plastic wand. With a magnificent thud, the former Death-Eater falls at my feat, vanquished.

The play has begun on stage, but before I can even fix my eyes on the simple set pieces, a pale form with beady eyes and only two slits for a nose rises from amidst the parents seated to my left. Encouraged by my defeat of Karkaroff, I again raise my wand and shout the darkest of the three unforgivable curses. “AVADA KEDAVRA” I scream, hoping to rid the world of a second dark wizard in as many minutes. As the flash of light from my wand connects with Voldemort, though, his skin comes alive with writing. Words too numerous to count seem to glow on his skin like tattoos, and he writhes in agony. Soon, however, the spell seems to have worn off. I cast the unforgivable curse a second time, and am confounded when, again, I am unsuccessful in slaying the most evil wizard of all time. For one reason or another, we move the fight outside. Perhaps this is because through all of his imperfections, the Dark Lord still believes in the majesty of theatre and wants to disrupt it as little as possible.

I conjure up some shackles that restrict Tom Riddle’s movement, and this allows me to think. It has been a while since I last read the books, but I am still able to remember another unforgivable curse, so I shout “CRUCIO!” Voldemort’s wicked form becomes like that of a crushed spider, crumpled and reeling from a devastating blow. Still, he manages to continue to writhe his way towards me, and I begin to grow more desperate. “IMPERIO!” I shout. I train my wand on Voldemort, and make him walk towards the conveniently located shoreline. My plan is to make the shackled, distorted form of Voldemort drown himself by walking into the ocean. He walks off the cliff. Hoping to find nothing more than an obituary of bubbles rising from the sea, I am perplexed when I am greeted by the alarming image of a young woman crouching on a ledge not three feet below, contorted and bound the very way Voldemort was moments ago. She looks up at me, and I awake from my dream.

Here ends “Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows, Part 3”

Cast:

Brian Skoog: Sir Anthony Hopkins

Voldemort: Jim Carey

Karkaroff: Jonah Hill

Girl at Ocean: Betty White