There is no denying my family's love for this boy who has grown into a man right before our eyes. He started off as a confused 10 year old before his 11th birthday, wondering about all these strange things that happened around him. Someone who believed his parents left him in a car accident. A child who was treated so badly he lived in a cupboard under a set of stairs on little Privet Dr. He has grown into a man about to face is last breath, a war that seems endless and his enemy who took his whole life away.
As I think about the last few years of my love for Harry Potter, it saddens me, makes me teary and also makes me wish the ending would never come. I have read the books, seen all the movies, bought posters and wands, rode his rides and drank his butterbeer. To me Harry Potter isn't a series of books and movies but a passion shared by my whole family. One boy has given my family something we all enjoy. One set of books, one series of movies.
I will, as always, attend the midnight premier this July with my friends and son. I will laugh and cry and worry. I will stop breathing if just for a moment when that curse hits Harry and Kills him, even if it just for a few minuets. I will see all my favorites, Sirius Black, Bellatrix, Dumbledore, and Harry. I will watch many die for the good of man kind, Muggles and Wizards alike.
As I morn the passing of a series loved by millions, I will think about all the happiness and memories it has given my family and I.
I tip my hat and thank J.K Rowling and Warner Brother's Picture for bringing this series to millions and making us believe we are flying, casting spells, attending potions class and helping in the final battle of Hogwarts.
