Here I am entrenched in THE moment of my young life.
At that moment I was reading the 5th Harry Potter book, and I was glued. Let’s recap my young life up until this point.
Yep. I waited in line for every book from Book 3 on.
During this insane (yet such a staple of global culture) process I fell in love. Not with Harry. Not with Ron. No. I fell in love with Sirius Black. The pinnacle of the brooding, sulking, mysterious man with somehow a semblance of a heart even after being tormented by dementors! He was like a dream! A sweaty, greasy dream!
My parents got to listen to me jabber on and on about how Sirius was such a godsend for Harry. I also decided they needed to know everything (EVERYTHING) about his current situation.
I’m sure my parents were torn between total annoyance and significant glee about the interest I had taken when it came to these ridiculously gigantic books. They decided to deal with (most likely impressively ignore) my sporadic melt downs over how awesome Sirius was in pursuit of my better person. (Thanks Mom and Dad)
Then…. the dreaded day.
I was reading the 5th Harry Potter book and totally into this fight scene! They were trying to save the prophesy when…
Everything stopped in my mind, my heart, my world.
My mother then came running into the room while holding the phone asking me if I was dying or something equally as important. She was not impressed with my reasoning that my entirely fictional love-interest had perished.
After the initial clawing at the walls for sanity wore off… I spent the next few years wondering, along with Harry, if Sirius would ever come back through the veil as a ghost. Just a glimpse was all I wanted. But no.
The remainder of my childhood was significantly different, and I felt that even the rising of other characters like Lupin and the fellow Weaseleys could not really help the hole in my heart from pulsing with pain and discontent. I had lost my love. My hero. My friend.
I mean really. How can someone die the wrong way to not come back as a ghost? What kind of sick fantasy genre joke is that? You don’t make the most awesome character to ever have walked the pages of books that no one doubts are timeless classics to be passed down from generation to generation and then kill him in such a pansy, not-even-ghost worthy kind of death! Who dies by freakin’ curtain????
Sirius deserved so much more of a valiant death!
One involving a mass fight scene where he had killed all but one, and Buckbeak flies in to save the day but instead – tragically distracts poor Sirius taking him to his bloody, yet respectable death.
There should have been significant amounts of blood as he went up defending his friends, taking the dementors’ kiss for them.
He needed to die in a way I could accept!
Even after all these years, that moment with the 5th Book still defines my literary experience. I fell in love with a character before… to the point that I broke down and wept when he was gone.
What other story can do that to millions and millions of children and adults alike?
(I hope you all enjoyed the final movie!)
UPDATE: For those of you unfortunate souls who have deemed it unnecessary to read these books (shame on you. go out right now and buy them.) Sirius dies by falling through “the veil” to the other side. He simply falls through a curtain and is dead. There. Now you can understand. (The Man – who is also an uncultured swine like yourself – asked for such an amendment to this post.)