“Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.”
~Lazarus Long

On late Thursday night, millions of people, acoss the world, will be saying a singluar, arduous goodbye.

However, it is not to a parent, relative or significant other. It is a unique and solemn farewell to a fictional adolescent, his friends, and enemies, who managed to change the world in a way that non-fictional humans could only ever dream about.

My enduring love affair with Harry Potter and the distinct, unforgettable world around him began in elementary school. As a sixth grader I picked up and completed the first two books, and enjoyed them greatly, but they soon fell far behind on the pre-adolescent priority list of video games, baseball, and girls.

It wasn’t until the following summer, while on a family road trip, that the seeds of adulation, infatuation, and actual obsession with this series finally occurred. While listening to the wonderful audio books (brilliantly performed by the one-and-only Jim Dale) I realized that JK Rowling’s intricate storytelling, and incredible characters were one of a kind. My fandom was born, and the rest (as they say) is history.

I read books three and four in the course of a week. I re-read the orginal two, then proceeded to listen to all of the audio books in their entirety. I started browing the internet for clues and information about the upcoming films, and poured helplessly over the message boards, rife with speculation about where Harry and company were headed in their future adventures. It was practically a daily routine.

I saw the movies, enjoyed them greatly, but knew from the very beginning, (like the real fans do, sorry!) that the books are the only way to appreciate this series FULLY. However, the films started developing a personality of their own, and became a delightful, emotional, and intriguing visual companion to JK Rowling’s dense textual world.

Years went by. Trips to Costco to buy the books on their release dates were a bi-yearly occurrence, and so were the midnight premieres of all of the films, which became better and better, as I grew older. I also had the unique experience of being the same age as Harry Potter for nearly all of the books as I read them, which managed to make the story even more personal and involving, especially as Harry and friends managed to deal with the most mysterious magic of them all- hormones.

The years went by, and the stories grew more tragic and serious- culminating in a beautiful, emotionally satisfying conclusion, in 2007. It was hard to turn that last page, but I must say, the pain was dulled by the fact that I knew there were still THREE FILMS yet to be released, and those would give me so much more to look forward to.

And years later, finally, we’ve arrived- 2011, the last film, the last moment. And I really don’t know how, or what to feel. It’s a completely bitersweet moment for me, as well as for many people my age, and older. It’s going to be a strange world without something Potter-related occupying part of the cultural zeitgeist. Thankfully the books, and the films will live on for generations to come.

The films, incidentally, have been accomplishments in their own special way, managing to maintain quality, cast, and integrity to the source material in a way no other film series has even come close to. While I am indeed a fan of the books first, it is hard to deny the power and impact of the movies on my generation. They are an equally important part of the Potter universe, and knowing there won’t be any coming in the forseeable future is disheartening, and sort of melancholy.

But alas, I still have Thursday night to enjoy. My one last evening with Harry. I will most likely be pouring over those memories, as well as all of my Potter recollections, for many years to come.

And oh, how many memories there are. From tears shed over the loss of Sirius Black, to my midnight rush to buy the final book before it was spoiled, and finally, and most recently, my embarassing encounter with Emma Watson (I never get starstruck, yet the sight of Hermione, a few feet away from caused me to resort to hiding and giggling like an infant), these memories aren’t only beautiful and enduring, they exemplify the splendid gift that JK Rowling has given to the world. A story well told, with characters so beautifully drawn, that those who spent time with them, will never once forget a single moment in their company.

Goodbye Harry, hope to see you soon. Thanks, for all of it.

-Brandon