The Next Great Adventure

It’s after midnight and sleep escapes me, replaced by a subtle anxiety. I figure I might as well write, and while many readers may write me off as eccentric, I can not help but attempt to explain the impact Harry Potter has had on my life and what the end of it means.

I was ten years old when my father took me to the movies to see Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, immediately after the film I went and read the first few books, looking back on the film I was bitter they left out my favorite scene. Hermione and the riddle? Was that not impressive?  


For a decade I grew up with the characters and actors. I can tell you exactly what I was doing the night of each book and movie release since then. I sympathized with Hermione, being friends with all boys and with her crazy unruly hair, was upset with Ron for not believing Harry, and cheered when Harry and Ginny got together. I read with fright, worrying about who was going to get hurt during that first battle in the Castle and cried when Dumbledore died. In disbelief tried to find evidence to justify that it was a ploy and he would return in the seventh book, only to have his death confirmed.

For those in my generation who found themselves wrapped in the world of Harry Potter from the start, we have all reached that age; where, like the characters, we are faced with the prospects of growing up and living in the real world. The end of Harry Potter marks the beginning of adulthood. No more days locked in our rooms eager to know what happens next, or nights standing in line with Starbucks wondering how exactly a muggle could duplicate butterbeer.  It’s time to say good-bye, and while Harry Potter is no where near dead in our lives, part of it is over. Dumbledore said, “Death is but the next great adventure”.

With the death of Harry Potter and the decade of my childhood soon to be behind me, I am looking forward to my next great adventure.