My mom introduced me to Harry Potter when I was younger. She had started reading The Sorcerer's Stone and, while driving in the car to town one day, she talked to me about how vivid the book was in its detail. The words made her want to draw what she was reading. I was hooked then and there, before ever seeing the cover itself.
I am passionate about books and very much so about the books J.K. Rowling created. Mostly because they are a kindred kind of spirit. Harry Potter taught me more about love, family, friends, sacrifice, struggle, death, loss, pain, real happiness, and courage than the public school system or my social life ever did. Every time I meet someone who learned those same lessons at the same time I did (who also grew up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione), I basically feel as though we went to school together as kids.
The movie is superb. Only because the book itself is a masterpiece of depth and character. But the movie really did the book so much justice. Before me on the theater screen was the story I cried over when I read the book. I love my imagination. But sometimes, seeing another person portray my imagination isn't so bad. Like last night. David Yates didn't fail anyone.
I woke up this morning with a Harry Potter hangover. My head still pounded from all the crying that took place in that theater (There were tears in pretty much every person's eyes last night. You couldn't escape it.). When I came out of the bedroom, Gabriel was watching the first movie of the series. It hit me then that there won't be anymore. It became like a yearly holiday, waiting for the next Harry Potter movie to be made. And it's kind of strange that there won't be anymore to look forward to. But they had to end; that is one reason why the whole story is so wonderful (no dragging on for that wizard boy). And they ended Harry, Ron, and Hermione (and Snape) on a two-thumbs up, four-star, rave-reviews note.
Very well done.