Dear Fans, Muggles, and Potterville subscribers,
Over the years, I’ve made a lot of statements regarding my well-known Harry Potter series that have left people questioning why they even bothered to read the books in the first place. Yes, Dumbledore was a homosexual, and OF COURSE I should have shipped Harry/Hermione like the rest of you. They were the obvious choice for each other: the hero and the heroine. Why Hermione would have willfully ended up with that red-haired goofball is beyond me.
With over five years to reflect on my final book, I can’t shake my biggest regret: I never should have killed Voldemort. I mean, it seems awfully harsh. Surely, somewhere inside that basilisk-charmer was a heart. Perhaps the right spell could have awoken the organ that had long since been put to rest. I’ll leave the rest to undoubtedly furious fan-fiction authors, whom I have betrayed over and over again.
Harry. Kills. Voldemort. What a cliche, am I right? I thought I could avoid this with my complex Snape-Dumbledore deathmatch, but even that could not sway the inevitable good-guy-defeats-bad-guy finale. “All was well?” What a cop-out! I’m ashamed of myself. In the midst of Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows, Chapter 36: The Flaw in the Plan, Voldemort says, “Only I can live forever.” I should have listened to him. That was the ultimate Flaw in my Plan.
Voldemort should have lived. I know it in my heart. Another bad guy’s life cut short. Perhaps he would have tormented Harry for five more books. Maybe he would have redeemed himself, like Darth Vader. Maybe, then, even he could have ended up with Hermione.