What an amazing journey it’s been.
I remember first being introduced to the Harry Potter books as a teenager by my neighbour, Wendy. The first couple of books were already out by this stage, and she mentioned that they were a good read so I started reading them. I was hooked. Being whisked away to a magical place was amazing. Until I was 18 and moved away, we would get very excited about each book that came out, trying to work out if Snape was a goody or a baddy, what butterbeer would taste like (probably like Werther’s Originals melted and yummy), what different things meant.
Then the films came out. I wasn’t so impressed with the acting of the three main characters, as many have pointed out, but it was incredible to see Hogwarts come to life. It was just as I’d imagined it! I wanted to see more of the classes and less of the He Who Must Not Be Named action, but I understand there’s only so much you can fit into a couple of hours.
My husband strongly dislikes Harry Potter and has only seen all the films out of love for me. I’m sure he was dropping off when we saw the final film on Saturday, until I suddenly squeezed his hand should it be sad, scary or exciting. He’s glad it’s all over, and wants me to put the DVDs and books away for when we have children.
I understand why he doesn’t want them to read the books until they’re old enough to understand it’s not real, especially with all the New Age stuff in the last film. I think I’d like to read them all once more before I have to hide them away in a box. Just one last time.