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Today, a part of my life has finally come to an end. However,
this end, unlike so many others I have experienced, has been long anticipated.
Truly, I welcomed it. And it was wonderful. I am, of course, speaking of Harry
Potter – particularly the movie Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2. This
movie has brought a completion to a part of my life (a part which has somehow
always belonged to J. K. Rowling).

First of all, this day marks the end of waiting. I have
literally spent half of my life waiting on Harry Potter. Some of those waits
were shorter than others, and there were many times when I forgot that I was
waiting, but I always was waiting – from the time that I first decided to read
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (winter 2000) to the moment I watched the
credits roll on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 (16 July 2011).
That’s a lot of waiting. It makes me wonder how much I would be willing to wait
for something else. How long am I willing to wait for my toast to pop? How long
am I willing to wait at the dentist’s office? How long am I willing to wait to
finish my education? How long am I willing to wait for God? That last one is
the most important to me. Lately, I’ve been feeling rather impatient with God.
I want Him to fix everything, and I want it fixed now. But I am to wait,
instead. I will enjoy what God has given me now, and I will wait for what He
will give me soon.

Second, and most important to me, this ending has led me to
find where my admiration truly lies. I admire J. K. Rowling, not Harry Potter.
When I was younger, I loved the books because Harry was exactly who I wanted to
be. I knew the magic bit was impossible, but I wanted to be adventurous, brave,
and cunning like Harry. I wanted to be smart and skilled like Hermione. I
wanted to be funny and loyal like Ron. However, since I’ve grown up (some), I
have come to realize that what I truly admire is Rowling’s ability to convey
those characteristics. Rowling can make you feel exactly what she needs you to
feel. Her details are impeccable. Something as simple as Dumbledore’s wand, a
locket at 12 Grimmauld Place, or a pet rat is later discovered to have the
utmost significance. Many of the names Rowling gives to her characters or
locations have a direct correlation to their personal traits. Rowling truly is
a great writer, and it is not because of Harry Potter.

Lastly, I have found this end to be rather welcome because
of the last book. In the final book, we see how thoroughly Rowling’s wizarding
world has been overcome by evil, prejudice, and a hunger for power. In fact, it
is so overcome that it is a little too real. Certainly, I would be the first to
agree that this is where Rowling’s world was heading, and she truly captured
the dark nature of humans. However, this presence of darkness is exactly what
everyone had been afraid of when Harry Potter was first published. I do not for
a minute believe that it will lead anyone into the occult (though I do not
doubt the power anything has over someone who is already dabbling in the
occult). My point is that Book Seven is not a children’s book. Even Books Five
and Six are not, in my opinion, suitable for children to read. So, I am quite
glad that I was in my upper years of high school before I read the last book.
Further, I am glad that I never became involved in the fan world of Harry
Potter. When I was younger, I often imagined my own stories about Hogwarts (I
even tried to play Quidditch once), but I never wrote fan fictions. I never
dressed up as the characters. Sometimes I would go online to play Harry Potter
games, but that never lasted very long. My love of Harry Potter has been purely
an admiration for the stories and movies, and I am thankful for that. Like any
of my favorite books, I am sure that I will reread the stories every once in a
while, and I will continue to wonder about the lives of the characters beyond
the stories, and I will consider what I have learned from the books. But I do
not think it necessary to dwell on the books. “It is just a book,” my father
told me before I read The Sorcerer’s Stone. I only want it to be a book, and
books have endings. Finally, this book has come to an end. It is a bittersweet