Have you ever thought about how Harry wasted a huge opportunity when he dropped the Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest?
Okay just imagine if he had kept it.
He dies, comes back, defeats Voldemort…
Only now there are over one-hundred people who have died in just The Battle of Hogwarts alone. Not to mention all of those names that were read on the radio throughout the year. (And everyone else who died before then.)
So the Golden Trio gets this idea…
They quickly spread the word and pretty soon, Harry sets up a room in Hogwarts with nothing in it but a desk and a chair. He sits in the chair behind the desk and calls people into the room one at a time.
Harry insists that the Weasleys be the first to enter. And so George walks in, puffy-eyed but smiling, and asks Harry what the big secret is.
Harry then plops an ordinary pebble into George’s hand.
George is very confused until he hears his name being whispered from behind him. George turns and of course there’s Fred. And the two twins are able to properly say goodbye to one another.
Harry then allows the entire Weasley family to come in and they all huddle around Fred’s spirit and are able to say goodbye. And of course Mrs. Weasley drags Harry out from behind the desk and he joins the family hug.
Are you crying yet?
Because I am.
But let’s keep going.
Mrs. Weasley’s hand brushes against the stone and Fabian and Gideon appear to say goodbye to their sister.
After the Weasleys finally leave, Harry brings Dennis in so that he can say goodbye to Colin.
Harry then individually brings in the family member(s) of the unnamed one-hundred students who died during the Battle of Hogwarts.
Harry then brings in Luna so that she can say goodbye to her mother.
He brings in pretty much all of Hogwarts so that they can say goodbye to Cedric.
He brings in Aberforth so that he can say goodbye to Albus and Ariana.
He brings in those who want to say goodbye to Snape.
He brings in Kreacher so that he can say goodbye to Regulus.
He brings in the rest of the house-elves so that they can say goodbye to Dobby.
And when Harry is done letting everyone else say goodbye to their loved ones, he closes his hand around the stone.
The first one to appear is a beautiful white owl who flies over to Harry and allows herself to be affectionately petted.
Then of course the others appear, just as they did in the Forbidden Forest on that fateful night. Harry doesn’t talk to them for too long, he’s grown up a lot since the Mirror of Erised, but he is able to make peace with his loved ones’ sacrifices.
And even then, he still keeps the stone.
He doesn’t use it again. Not personally, anyway. In fact, he stores it in a dusty box on the mantel in his house. He doesn’t use it. But he doesn’t forget it, either. Because he needs it for one last task.
And when the boy with the turquoise hair is old enough to understand, Harry gently sits him down and places a stone in his hand.
And Teddy Lupin meets Remus and Nymphadora.
Tag: I’m crying
i’ve been reading for most of the day now about howard ashman, the lyricist for the little mermaid & beauty and the beast. he was one of the biggest creative forces behind both films, helping to shape their characters, narrative arcs, and themes as well as their music; he was also a gay man who was diagnosed with aids during the production of the little mermaid and died shortly after beauty and the beast was finished. alan menken, the composer who collaborated with him on both movies, said that beauty and the beast is heavily influenced by ashman’s experiences and perspective.
and i can’t stop thinking about it. i’ve always considered beauty and the beast to be one of the darkest films in the disney canon, as well as its most beautiful. it’s entirely about monsters, about the ways that people are determined to be wrong and dangerous: there’s the beast alone in his castle in the forest, and belle mocked and sneered at by her village, and even maurice carted off to an asylum.
and that it was written and conceived of in part by a gay man who, according to his sister, trained himself out of “effeminate” physical mannerisms when he was young because he was bullied for them, and who as he wrote it was dying of an incredibly stigmatized illness— like, god.
i mean when you just listen to those songs he wrote, the mob song (“the beast is] set to sacrifice our children to his monstrous appetite / he’ll wreak havoc on our village if we let him wander free”), belle (“it’s a pity and a sin / she doesn’t quite fit in”)— and there was a cut song, human again, where the castle servants looked forward to rejoining the world.
like it’s obviously queer, but more than that, it’s the self-identification and self-validation of a man who knew this was this work was probably his last. at the end of the film, the beast is so sad, has succumbed entirely to despair and death. his society is coming to destroy him, and he can’t even be angry, because he doesn’t have anything left. but then he does. and he is still precious, and his life is still meaningful. he’s a person, and he can be loved. he can find happiness.
in the original beauty and the beast, the beast proposes marriage to belle every night and it’s her acquiescence that breaks the spell. in the disney movie, the beast only waits for belle to love him, because he cannot love himself. it’s such an unexpected blessing for both belle and the beast that they can find acceptance in each other, after both are so othered and dehumanized by their communities. their vulnerable joy in each other and themselves is so important, and their love song so wonderingly sweet. at the end, it is only when someone loves and accepts you that you stop being a monster.
john musker, one of the directors of beauty and the beast, told this story about how ashman cried at disneyland when the little mermaid’s music was integrated into a parade and said that he was glad to know that his music would outlive him. beauty and the beast was my favorite movie when i was young and trying not to be queer, when i felt very wrong and very alone. it has been unbelievably important in my life. and so i am also glad— and so grateful— that howard ashman’s music outlived him, and that he lived at all.
I'd Much Rather Have a Dragon 