Page 202... And counting.
Still in a desperate bid to keep my eyelids propped up to continue with the book, I'm resting my brain a little. The fresh contents keep flooding into my head momentarily, flitting in and out in frames, replaying scenes from the first few chapters. It has been a wait since the last book, and I still can't believe I actually bought it; I didn't buy any of the previous 6 books at all. But the release date was promptly set right after the fifth movie's debut, so it kinda cashed in on the sales.
The angst was evidently stronger, from the way Harry thinks and executes his feelings; he isn't afraid to voice out, although he still thinks that keeping some stuff untold would be a much safer option, lest his companions betray him. I'm particularly captivated by the way Rowling made death and suffering of the characters seem so natural, as though it had been a definite event.
So I'm barring my room door tonight, and anyone who dares to talk me out of reading the book will get a wand up the right nostril.
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