“Ron!”

“Hermione!”

“Ron!”

"Hermione!"

They drop the Basilisk teeth and start smooching.

“High time they fucked!” I spat out and threw the book aside, disgusted by the obvious attempt to keep the book clean since J.K Rowling was mindful about not going beyond snoggling but didn’t think twice about writing graphic violence which could be rated PG-18.

Even the Nancy Drew Case Files showed more heated scenes than those envisioned by the author of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. Obviously J.K seems to believe that it is okay to expose our kids to graphic violence where people die like flies but god forbid if we have Hermione clambering into Ron’s sleeping bag to keep warm. Maybe the author didn’t have the cojones to reflect what actually happens in our co-ed schools or what would happen naturally between two young people who are in love with each other especially under stressful situations or maybe she wasn't writing the Potter series for adults but for kids under the age of ten. If so then she should have made the violence less gory.

But even a young adolescent would expect a more passionate description of young love between Ron and Hermione or for that matter between Harry and Ginny.

Ginny was barely on Harry’s mind. Sure, he had Voldemort to deal with and all that shit with the Hallows and a two-timing Dumbledore but his love for Ginny barely crossed his mind. J.K. had conveniently sent Ginny abroad when the situation became volatile. Or how about the time Voldemort was finally defeated? wouldn’t any love-lorn boy want the girl of his dreams to be at his side when he received all the adulation and praise? Instead Harry was saluting the big ‘D’ for all that he had done.

As I read the book I found myself drawn towards the romance between Ron and Hermione whereas Harry’s love was rather limp and unexpressed.

Compare his love for Ginny to the love Snape had for Harry’s mother - Lily. It was the noblest kind of love where he tried to protect her son even at the cost of his own life. He remained true to the love he held dear in his heart since he was nine.

While dying he told Harry to look into his eyes for he wasn’t really seeing Harry’s eyes but Lily’s before he died. Even in the final moments of his life he remembered his unrequited love – Lily.

By the time the book ended I was somewhat able to forgive Ms. Rowling for killing Voldemort in a shoddy manner, for somehow returning the stolen Gryffindor sword to the hat, for imposing some freakin' baby bawling and whimpering in the background of a train station while Dumbledore and Harry shared a heart to heart or worse still for the Mills and Boon abrupt ending where they all get married, make babies and live happily ever after.

I forgave J.K Rowling for one reason alone - for the love Snape gave his life for, a love he never had. He was the Judas who gave his all for what was never his to begin with – to protect the one who could have been his son or he wished was his own in the deepest recesses of his grave heart.