I was eleven when I first met Harry Potter. A friend of my aunt’s gave me The Sorcerer’s Stone as a Christmas gift, and I was completely enthralled by the funny, sweet, and thrilling tale. Now, as the final movie is released, an entire era of my life comes crashing to an end, and I struggle to figure out what I’m going to do without more Harry.
At the beginning, the novelty of the world was especially delightful because the reader got to discover it along with Harry. His awe was our awe, and his thrills were ours. The eccentric characters were utterly lovable, and despite their magical life, completely relatable. I love the way Rowling seamlessly blended different mythologies into unique parts of Harry’s world, and the minute details she included, from butterbeer to Quidditch, to create an incredibly real universe, carefully hidden within our own. As the books progressed, each builds upon the previous, until you get to the end, and find that each book connects to the others in far more than simply a chronological sense. As the battle for the wizarding world escalates, the lessons from the very first book come to have deeper and deeper meaning, specifically that regarding the power of love, and not just romantic love, but that of friends, family. Adult themes, such as segregation, tolerance, and good and evil are neatly included.
As the years passed, and Harry grew and learned, so did I. As he tackled adolescence, hormones, and trouble with teachers, so did I. True, I never had to battle dragons or defeat evil, but I did have to deal with crushes, struggling with subjects (such as math), and problems with friends. For every year that Harry grew older and wiser, so did I, although certainly not as wise as he. During tough times, I turned to Harry to take me away from it all.
In my devotion, I have read the books over and over, attended midnight release parties for both the movies and the books, and never, ever felt my love diminish. So it is that now, I reach a time in which there will be no more Harry. No more books, no more movies. And I find that I’m not entirely prepared. As I purchased my tickets for the midnight premiere of the last film, I felt tears tickle my eyes (as well as an unbearable excitement). I turn 24 this year, almost a quarter of a century, yet nothing has made me feel more like an adult than watching thirteen years of Harry Potter, and my life, come to a close. All that’s left is saving for a trip to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando, Florida.
I guess all in all, what I really want to say is, thank you, Harry, for making my life magical.
—Flannery
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As a child with a vivid imagination, these books were perfect. Living in the country gave me the opportunity to live out my own little Redwall fantasies. I collected berries and dandelions and made cordials and cakes from them. I ran around with a stick, playing warrior maiden, yelling Redwall battle cries and lopping the heads off of particularly tall weeds. Even today, the influence of both the morals encompassed in the books and the British lexicon are evident in my beliefs and manner of speech.