Harry Potter and The Cursed Child : Book Review

Book Title : Harry Potter and The Cursed Child

Author : J.K. Rowling, Jack Thorne, and John Tiffany.

Date of Publication : July 31, 2016.

Rating (Out of Five Stars) : 3.


I liked the book, I didn’t love it but I liked it so why did I give it a 3?

Well for the most part, it was because of the Fan fiction feel of the entire thing. Every moment, I felt like I was reading an ordinary fan fiction and it really disappointed me though the idea was interesting.

I won’t talk about the writing for it was a script and I must admit, I don’t know much about script writing so I am just going to look at this from a reader’s standpoint.

The book was clearly from a young person’s point of view, he was ridiculous and assumptive and did everything to go against his father. Honestly, he really was everything like his father or perhaps that’s just J.K. Rowling’s writing skills showing through.

I never did really think she was a good writer though I love her work, I love it for the idea.

Honestly, I did expect worse but still. It really wasn’t that bad. She created more plot holes but that’s about it. I don’t feel like it was the end of the Harry Potter series and it disappoints me because of that. I feel like Harry’s life isn’t over so I should still be reading about.

I was hoping this book would actually give me closure but I didn’t so I can’t rate this book anything higher than a 3. It’s worth a 3.


Harry Potter and The Cursed Child is the eighth book in a coveted series that is loved by one and all. Any reader can read this series and find something about it that they love. Set many years into the future, you are met with the same scene that we last saw our beloved characters.

Albus is sorted into Slytherin and becomes fast friends with Scorpius Malfoy. Their friendship continues on for three years as they go through a series of bullying and outcasting until we reach the summer going into fourth year where Albus (Because it’s always the Potters!) hears a conversation between Amos Diggory, the father of Cedric Diggory, and requests Harry to go back in time to save Cedric but Harry denies this.

When Albus finds out about the rumor being true, he enlists Scorpius to help him go back in time to save Cedric which leads to them jumping off the Hogwarts Express and going to the retirement home where Amos Diggory and his niece, Delphi Diggory, resides.

This, of course, leads to go to the Ministry and stealing the time turner and going back in time to the first task.

Side Note : To be honest, I don’t know how to talk about this without telling you a lot of stuff!

When they come back, they notice that a lot has changed. Hermione has essentially become the new Snape, Hermione and Ron are not married, Ron is married to Padma Patil, and Albus is sorted into Gryffindor.

However his relationship with his father is still the same so clearly their problems run deeper than just that.

They ultimately decide to go back and this time finds themselves in the second task. One things leads to another and Scorpius finds himself alone in another alternative dimension where Harry Potter is dead, Cedric Diggory is a death eater, Umbridge is still a teacher, Voldemort is at large, but hey, at least Snape is alive? The funny thing is that it’s all because Cedric kills Neville in the Final Battle.

There is also Mudblood Death Camps, Torture Chambers, and so much more.


Like Neville is ten times more important than we originally thought.


So Scorpius finds Severus Snape and quickly explains the situation. At first Snape doesn’t believe him until he begins talking about Lily Evans. HE’S ALIVE AND WE GET TO SEE HIS REACTION.

This leads Snape to taking Scorpius to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley (who are still not together) who are extremely wanted but no one really talks about why. BUT HEY AT LEAST SNAPE SMILED. AND YES, HE DID SMILE.


But anyways, so Dementors come and Hermione and Ron sacrifice themselves after they confess their love for each other. Apparently in every version, they still love each other so I must ask. HOW DO YOU PEOPLE SHIP DRAMIONE OR ANYTHING BESIDES ROMIONE!?

Then the saddest thing happens and Snape dies…


Finally Scorpius goes back in time and fixes everything.

Now I would like to ask you guys way too many questions! Essentially I am done telling you word for word what happens.

A : How the hell did Rudolphus get out of Azkaban?

B : Why did Theodore Nott go to Azkaban?

C : Are they purposely making Scorpius and Rose the new James and Lily?

D : Who was your favorite character? Mine was Scorpius.

E : How the heck does Delphi have white and blue hair if her parents are Voldy and Bella?

F : How is Molly still alive?

G : Why does no one mention Sirius?

H : Where is George?

I :  Why does no one ever talk to Neville?

J : How did Hermione become Minister? Was Draco right?


L : How did no one know about Delphi? I mean, surely Hogwarts records existed.

M : Fun Fact : Molly kills Bellatrix and says something about being a mother. How do you think she would have reacted having learned that Bellatrix was in fact a Mother?

N : Why is Hermione the next Snape after they change the first tournament?

O : Why is Harry and Ginny still together in all versions?

P : McGonagall is still badass. Not a question, just a statement.

Q : So we found out what Astoria was like. A lot of Fanfiction writers were wrong. What house was she in??

R : So we were all right about Harry losing his ability to speak Parseltongue after everything. So my question is, how does he gain it back???

S : They talked about how “magic has changed since I was in school?” IN WHAT WAY?



A Disappointed Potterhead,

Sabrina Ingram.



Why Do I Write?


Because sometimes when everything around me is failing, when the world is in chaos and all of my fears are becoming alive. Because sometimes when my heart is telling me to not continue, when my brain is telling me to give up on life, and when I feel as though I am taking my last breath. When I have lost all control of everything around me, I turn to writing.


I turn to writing where  I have control over everything. Where my biggest fears are nothing compared to what I could create. When everything, from the chaos to the smiles is completely and one hundred percent in my control, I am writing.


Because when I feel like I am drowning, I can use writing as my life preserver and it saves me from the water and allows me to use such a silent form of oppression and fighting and tears and happiness and allows me to use such a creation to sow everybody what is happening.


Because writing is the only thing capable of helping me when all else is failing and I can not forget that or I will drown.

Our Brains Were Re-Arranged – Poem

My friends all want to fast forward.

They want their ID and they want to go dancing and forget their nights.

As I am watching them talk about growing up.

I want to rewind to before we cared about what others thought.

Before our opinions were created by looks.

Before we heard of devastation and of the bad people.

Some days, I’d like to rewind to the innocence of the past

to the popping of the bubbles that passed.

Some days, I think of going back to our childhood and innocence before our hearts were broken,

our brains were rearranged,

and before the judgements.

To the days of only caring about whether or not you were being forced to eat greens

or being able to stay up late.

It feels as though we went forward so quickly

Just wanting to grow up that we missed the amazing parts of our lives.

We missed those bubbles that needed to be popped,

those children books that needed to be read,

and the boys that were only ever meant to be just friends.

But we never did those things because we never understood why Peter Pan didn’t want to grow up.

We wanted to be treated like adults, even though we had no idea what that truly entailed.

Soon we will be going through taxes, paying for bills,

and most of us will be working at a job that we despise.

We will complain that we don’t get enough sleep and that we want to go back to before.

Before our innocence was lost, our hearts were broken, and before our brains were rearranged.

But before we lose our chance, I want to go pop one last bubble.

I want to read one more children’s book.

I want to run blindly into the sun and I want to be a child again.

Before there was devastation, before the bad people.

Before our eyes were uncovered by the metaphorical hands of innocence.

Some days I want to rewind, even when I am watching my friends go fast forward.

The Loss of Color – Short Story

Why Was it Written : It was written for an Ocean Awareness contest ( From the Bow Seat Contest ) for the Prose Category. The contest just closed which is why I’m displaying the story to you guys. I will update this later with a result.


The Story : 


My home was once full of color, the deep blue ocean surrounding my family and friends as we moved through the waters and weaved through the brightly colored coral of pink and reds and the green grasses that laid upon the ocean floor. However, that quickly changed and it was as if it happened within seconds but the effects continued on for much longer.


Something black one day entered the water, looking similar to squid’s ink but it was more foul smelling and everyone swam away as fast as possible as though our fins knew exactly what was happening even though we did not. The black ink seemed to kill everything that it touched as though it’s hands were wrapping around our family’s necks and strangling them to death. Nothing that touched the ink would be seen again.


The days following this event was heartbreaking as the ocean gathered in sorrow as everyone’s family was torn away from them as they helped each other search for their families. I remember explicitly this dolphin by the name of Rose looking for her husband. She frantically looked everywhere and I remember her screams and cries as she found his dead body, washing up to shore.


Rose died soon after as she attempted to reach her husband, though the oil was still in the way and soon, she just gave up and ran through the oil. We can only assumed she died in her desperate attempt to be with her husband. We were shocked at first, shocked that she would so desperately run through the oil, perfectly aware that she may not get to the other side but I think others who had lost their husbands understood at least a little bit. She wanted to be with her husband and dying would bring her to him.


Her sister, Belle, soon found out she was pregnant and what was supposed to be a joyous occasion was a tragic affair as she was worried about having a child in such living conditions and constantly worried about everyone’s life. Which may be why the birth of her child was stillborn. She was depressed for months following this event.


My shell was coated in black from trying to save the individuals from the ink but I made sure that it didn’t touch my skin. ‘I can change my shell,’ I would argue with my parents who steadily grew in concern as my shell’s green color was gone with the replacement of the black ink.


One life I remember trying to save was a jellyfish by the name of Oliver. He was swimming dreadfully close to the oil and ejecting something odd through the oil. I had immediately swam towards him but stopped in fear of touching the oil. “What are you doing?” I had called. Oliver ignored me at first as he continued and I glanced at the oil. It was as though whatever he was injecting was going through it. As though he was breaking it into tiny pieces. “Wha-What?” I had stammered out, confused as to what was happening.


“My papa noticed a little while ago.”


“What exactly is happening?” I had found myself asking, confused as the particles of oil was moving, very small but very there. I moved slightly closer to him but not close enough to touch. The purple colored jellyfish laughed in delight.


“It’s amazing right?” Oliver shouted in excitement as he swam into the oil before coming back out. “I can live in the oil, I’m not sure if it lasts long but for as long as I swim through the oil, it breaks away. I think it has something to do with how my tentacles move but I’m not quite sure. I would love to find out!” he explained excitedly.


Honestly, I thought it was rather odd at what was happening and he was mildly curious as to what exactly was happening. I thought about the event for a few nights following that conversation but I never seemed to have come up with a good answer. It wasn’t until I heard that there were fishermen who seemed to be gathering up jellyfish that I talked to Oliver again.


“They are coming!” He called excitedly. “They figured it out. They must have seen me or something! They saw me or something but I know it. They figured it out!” he called as he swam towards where they were fishing for jellyfish and I followed after him in curiosity.


“What are you doing? They are fishing for you guys!”


“They are trying to help us, we must let them. It’s in our fate to help. I want to help!” he shouted as he distanced himself from me towards the net that was picking up the jellyfish and within seconds, he was in the net. Shouting his goodbyes in happiness amongst the screaming for loved ones. (“How Jellyfish Break Down Oil After a Spill.” Smithsonian Ocean Portal.)


This continued for months and months, turmoil from the deadly ink continued on and on. Many dolphins continued having miscarriages and my shell was eventually ruined and my mother died, not noticing her skin touch the oil one day trying to help me find a new one. Death became a common thing in my world as so many continued fighting for their lives. Color was no longer a thing in my life and it seemed as though the ink ruined everything I loved. For those who didn’t die, they were mourning constantly over one death or another. The sister of Rose died from all the death and she just couldn’t fight any longer. ( “Gulf Oil Spill.” Smithsonian Ocean Portal.)


The ink we learned was called oil which was used for transportation of cars and apparently there was an oil spill though they were aware of what would happen. Anger continued on and on and there was an occasion after the stillborn where her husband began circling the people who were still trying to get more of the sludge in an attempt to scare them off. It worked for a day or two but they kept coming so he gave up. This anger was shared among everyone though and they even debating talking to sharks, hoping they would torture the murderers, knowing that even the sharks were affected by this.


We didn’t notice the humans attempts of fixing the mess they made immediately as our hatred began to grow greatly for them. We blamed them for their deaths, blamed them for ruining our homes as our vivacious pink coral was nothing but a pile of black ink. But soon we noticed them trying to scoop the sludge out. Eventually it began to work but only after we lost lives.


We even learned that this was not the first time this happened, there were so many other occasions of this! We were so shocked that this was not a first time experience yet humans still continued to mess up, killing our families and people. The seagulls spoke with some of the dolphins, explaining that they were finding three bodies a day on average of dolphins and that it had become national news of what happened. The dolphins demanded to know what they were going to do but the seagulls hadn’t heard anything.


We eventually moved away though the ink seemed to have continued a long way and it took many nights to maneuver, searching for colorful coral that was not ruined by the ink. During our journey, we ran into many other sufferers from the ink and they followed after us, ready to start a new home with us.


But something that we did appreciate, something we never knew would happen. Something good actually came from that oil that was emptied carelessly into our homes. It allowed us to enjoy the deep blue of the sea, the brightly colored orange coral, the greens and yellows of the fish around us, the moss color of my shell, the red that flowed from the shark’s mouth as it ate it’s newest victim. We began to understand and appreciate that we were all the same, that we were all affected by the same things. That we all had loved ones to lose, hated the same creatures. The oil created a sense of community amongst the heartache, among the death that we witnessed. But the memory of the oil continues in our mind on replay and it flashes through our minds every time we lose a loved one, every time a new family comes to tell of their sorrows, and every time the ink that comes from an octopus comes out and we freeze, anticipating the smell from that very day. Sometimes, I even think of Oliver, who sacrificed himself to help everyone and I wonder how exactly that was going on. Sometimes, I miss him even.


It had been long after the oil entering the world that we stopped seeing so many effects, sometimes others would come from other places in the world. Still crying over the many deaths of their families as they told us the terrible tragedy that always came along with the ink that was foul smelling. We warned our children of the terrors, wanting to make sure they never forgot what happened. We always allowed the newly- found homeless animals to enter our home, putting them under our fins as we let them establish a home of their own.


We had lost the concept of color for so long that when we saw a brightly colored orange coral, we froze in shock as memories of the past swam through our minds as we spent time with our beloved ones. I remember swimming as fast as my fins allowed as I surrounded the coral, swimming around the plant happily as I relished in the idea of life and happiness and love. My father followed after me and we played together for the first time in months. We smiled and we laughed and it was all because of the color. It was this place that we chose for our home to be. By the color that reminded us that we were alive and that we still had some family members even though we didn’t have them all.


My Reflection I Had to Write : 


‘The Loss of Color’ was the first story I have ever written with animals as the main characters and as I kept fact checking and looking up information to make the story more accurate, I was amazed as to how many animals and creatures were affected by oil spills. I was amazed by how the animals involved in the spill were still going through things and dying because of something that happened around eight years ago. Something that I found interesting during my research, was the research of Brad Gemmell who theorized and proved that jellyfish were capable of breaking apart the oil because of the mucus in their bodies. When I read about that, I was excited to include this concept which is why one of the characters, Oliver the jellyfish, had figured this out and sacrificed himself in the name of saving everyone. Realistically, this is absolutely something that would happen in the real world and I thought it would make sense for the gesture to happen in the story. My main character, a turtle, was very unaffected by the whole ordeal besides seeing his family and friends die but despite this, turtles also were killed because of oil spills. I gave both Rose and Belle a part for similar reasons, to show that loss was detrimental and heartbreaking happened with Rose and finally with Belle who lost her child during the pregnancy, an event that occurred often with dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico.


My Thoughts of This Story : I actually adore this story, a story about loss of family in such a real way meant a lot to me and I had a lot of fun writing this story. I have no idea if I will win the contest but I am proud of the results. I will never regret this story and I will never forget it either.

I Would Never Date A Writer.

Writing. Being a writer is crazy, there is this instant connection that you have with all writers and it’s crazy.

You immediately become attached to them, you share their pleasures and connections and you congratulate them.

But some part of me would never date a writer, yes, I am a writer and I would never date a writer.

My boyfriend isn’t a writer but he does write but that doesn’t bother me.

When writing, as many of you probably know, you are constantly struggling. You struggle through writer’s block, through the critics, through getting your book finished or getting it published.

There are so many struggles that writers face and maybe it’s the jealousy and pettiness that is my life but I could never date a writer.

When dating somebody, you have to support them and love them through all they do but let me tell you something.

Every single time one of my writer friend’s came up with a new story line, I was mega jealous especially when I have writers block.

It’s like a salty happiness you have for somebody.

Then you tell a writer that you submitted your story into something and you suddenly feel this immense dread.

Like, are they going to submit their work? Am I going to have to compete against them?

It’s this constant struggle.

So as much as I love being friends with writers, I would never ever date a writer.

Merlin help me if my boyfriend gives up biology for writing. I would never break up with him for it, I love that nerd.

I just mean that I would never willingly go into a relationship knowing that he is a writer…

Sorry writers,

Sabrina Ingram.



I don’t know if any of you guys know this but I actually have a book published on Amazon!

The Title : The White Butterfly

The Author : Sabrina Ingram (Of course!)

Price : $3.99.

Genre : Romance.

What Is It About : 

‘The White Butterfly’ is a story about a girl’s journey through the stages of a break up.
As she begins to go on a mission to understand her break up, she creates a stronger bond with her best friend Rose, and becomes closer to a childhood friend by the name of Chase Mathews, who she had recently gone estranged to.
This book teaches you that you can find love when you least expect it, that you can create a bond between all the tears, and sometimes, the person you’re truly looking for has been there all along. It just took a long time to find them.
This is the story of Belle’s breakup and how it was the start of a new story as well as the ending.
Read as you see her go through the stages of a break up, as well as the stages of falling in love. Along her ride, is the surprising relationship between a pair that once hated each other.

The Link : https://www.amazon.com/White-Butterfly-Sabrina-Ingram-ebook/dp/B01EE9GLZ0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1470196123&sr=8-1&keywords=the+white+butterfly+by+sabrina+ingram#navbar

I hope you guys check it out!

Hope you have a good day,

Sabrina Ingram.

Take a Deep Breath – Poem

Take a deep breath and I promise you I’ll survive.

All I’ve got to do is take a deep breathe and hold it in.

Can’t let anyone know what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling.

Taking a deep breath, hoping I’ll survive.

Not sure how to handle you anymore.

Not sure what I’m supposed to say.

Not sure how I’m supposed to feel when your name comes up.

All I ever wanted was a smile blessing your face.

If this is what you wanted then I’m glad you have it.

But why am I feeling this way?

Why am I feeling like there is something missing?

It’s not like this was all your idea.

It’s not like we were a perfect pair.

But your face made me smile

and your words made me skip a beat.

I don’t know why this is happening.

It’s not like this was all your doing.

It’s not like we were a perfect couple.

But your hugs brought me comfort.

If this what you wanted… I’m glad you got it..

I remember when we first met and I remember laughing.

I remember our first words and I remembering smiling.

However, all of that is clouded.

I remember making all our plans and now all I can do is cry.

I have to take a deep breath and hold it in.

I’ve just got to hide until my feelings disappear.

All I wanted was your happiness.

If it’s not me then what can I do?

All I can think of is our past.

All I can think of are the things that remind me of you

and all I can do is hold it in.

All I can do is take a deep breath.

All I can do is reminisce about the past before it becomes too much.

But all I can do hold it in.

I can’t show you what I’m feeling

because it’s not fair to show you.

So when I see you…

When I see you and I don’t speak.

When i see you and I turn around.

Please don’t think I hate you.

Because truly it’s the opposite.

I always felt unwanted.

I always felt unneeded.

It’s not like we were a perfect couple.

But your face made me smile

and your words made me skip a beat.

Your hugs brought me comfort.

I promise you, I’m glad your happy.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t what you wanted.

I’m sorry I’m not what made you smile.