It is with a sense of ambivalence that I close the back cover of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J.K. Rowling's 7th, and final, installment to the phenomenal Harry Potter series. The end brings both a feeling of relieving finality (as Lemony Snicket's books have proven how an intriguing but too long drawn out series bleeds itself dry far from reaching a satisfactory end) and emptiness as I realise that no more will they share their world with me. I was fortunate to have begun reading when I was 11 and followed their story throughout, growing with them so at 17 myself I know that as Harry, Ron, and Hermione grow up and step outside the boundaries of childhood, so too, must I.

It is a strange feeling to close the hard cover after an engrossing 12 hours worth of being hudled in a ball on my couch, nose in book flipping through substantially thinner paper, and knowing that no 8th book will come after this. The anticipation that Rowling so masterfully built up over the past six books seemed to either overwhelm completely, or too fall so short as to leave one blinking in confusion as to what just happened. I feel that while being an amazingly written book, it fell somewhat short of my own expectations, which I admit, were perhaps a tad fantastical. But what would you expect of such an extraordinary world? Rowling, however, beginning from her 5th book steps away from themes that are childlike and moves into the realm that is only accessible to those much older, ending with, albeit philosophical, realism. I feel somewhat sorry for kids who are much younger who sit reading the 7th installment, or are having it read to them and are missing out on the much deeper meaning, and parallels drawn between our world and Harry's.

To me, the book was the most highly anticipated, and I do not feel that Rowling let me down in the slightest. The cinematography of description, the exhilerating dialogue, the ability bring her readers in so that we so acutely feel all the emotion in every single scene - all makes for a classic book. I await the 7th movie with almost as much anticipation as the book. The epilogue, though, I wished had been somewhat longer as I had hoped to learn a little more of the future of all of the characters that had become so close to us all, like Hagrid, the Hogwarts teachers, and some of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's closest friends. However, no matter how much I will miss being in Hogwarts and walking the halls with magical paintings (instead of walking my own school's halls from whose walls hang only the immobile pictures of graduated classes and instead of sweeping robes, regular muggle attire), facing amazing creatures, epic dangers, and guessing, as I fancy most girls who have read this book have too, when Ron and Hermione would finally get married, I feel incredibly grateful for having experienced the literary phenomenon that is Harry Potter.
I applaud the extraordinary writer who has upheld Britain's uncanny tradition for amazing literature, and around the world has sparked lineups not for movies, not for clothing or wares, but for books. Singlehandedly bringing some magic into our rather bland and monotonous Muggle lives.

Personaly, as far as I'm concerned, whenever I fly over England I will always keep a lookout for the scarlet Hogwarts Express and the ancient castle perched by the lake, and all the magic of childhood and growing up it represents.