It All Ends...

So I failed at the whole Harry Potter post-a-day thing. But I guess that's a good thing cuz it just means I've been busy, but now as I prepare to go see the final installment in less than 5 hours, I thought I'd share how I'm feeling about it. (I actually wrote this a while ago but never posted it, so that's why it's written as if there's still a while till the movie comes out)

WARNING: SLIGHT AMOUNT OF CHEESINESS

I don't know if you know this about me but I love Harry Potter, and as the excitement over the last installment continues to grow to the point where I think I might burst with anticipation, I can't help but also feel somewhat saddened to think that the series is actually coming to a close. It all started with the publication of the books. Then they started the film franchise. Somewhere in the middle they met and we had both new books and new films to look forward to. Then the final book, The Deathly Hallows was released and that was the end of the story, but at least we had the remaining films to experience so the story wasn't really over. But now as the last film comes to pass, a sense of conclusion can't help but be recognized, over something that I don't ever want to end.

It all started my freshman year of high school. My brother Evan had read the first book in school, and he immediately succumbed to the magic this story possesses. He was hooked. But as the hype over Harry Potter continued to grow, my dad started hearing horrible things about this book. How it was of the devil and how it preached witchcraft. As my 8 year old brother continued to broadcast his love for this "satanic" story, my dad understandably became concerned, and before he would allow Evan to continue reading future books, he wanted to read The Sorcerer's Stone for himself to discover if the rumors he'd been hearing were true. He was happy to discover that the things he'd been hearing were complete and ridiculous exaggerations of what wasn't even the point of the story. And that rather than preaching witchcraft, this was just your typical good versus evil story set in an anything but typical fantasy world. It was official, my dad and my brother were under the spell of Harry Potter.

They kept trying to convince me to read the books. But I didn't give in so easily. I'd never been much for the fantasy genre and didn't think I'd enjoy the story. Then my best friend from high school, Mallorie, tried telling me how amazing this book was and that I HAD to read it. Coming from my best friend, of course I thought her opinion held more credence. But I still was skeptical. Then Warner Brothers released the first film. I still remember how **don't tell anyone** we received a bootleg copy of the DVD from an unnamed source. My dad and my brother told me I didn't have a choice but to watch it. I conceded seeing as, let's face it, watching a movie is a lot faster than reading a book. I still remember the horrible quality of the film. It was something that had been recorded in the movie theater. Their heads were chopped off, it was grainy and the sound was horrible, but despite those factors, I couldn't help but notice the magic the story held. Simply put, it made me happy. I immediately read the first book, and the second and for the past 10 years, I've been there when I could, for those midnight releases of both book and film.

I've grown up with Harry Potter. Ten years of my life I've spent reading the books, watching the films, listening to the scores and anticipating how the story might end, and just immersing myself in the story. I've quoted the films back and forth with my brother, and learned many a life lesson from Albus Dumbledore. And so as the concluding film draws near, I can't help but feel conflicted over its release.

For those who haven't lost themselves in the world of Harry Potter, this probably sounds ridiculous. But the story has brought magic into my life and I'll always be appreciative. I know I've used the word magic several times, and I don't even mean it in the way you might think. Forget about spells, dragons, moving pictures, and changing staircases, though Rowling's creative attention to detail is what initially creates the magical world of Harry Potter. But what I mean by the word "magic," in a different sense, is simply the feeling I get when I read the books, and this feeling emerges not only from the literal magical things that take place, but from things that aren't often seen as magical such as friendship, love, trust, faithfulness, determination, community, family, and just the overall sense that light overcomes darkness and that the good guys sometimes do win. How can such a story be seen as anything but magical?

With the debut of the final film close at hand, I've been feeling somewhat sentimental, if you couldn't tell. I just don't want the story to end. But I suppose that as long as I always have that magical feeling with me, whether it comes from re-reading the books, or watching a movie for the hundredth time, then the story is never really over.