The end of an era

I was 11 years old and I had a crush on a boy in my class. His name was Martin and he was oh so cute and smart and geeky and awesome. I sat next to him whenever I could and soaked up the knowledge that he had. He was 12 and had already read Lord of the Rings, something that I have not managed to do to this day, not for lack of trying, I might add. One day in class, I asked him to write me a list of the books that I should read. He wrote down some classics like Dune and LOTR, but one of the books he wrote down was one that I had never heard of before. What was this Harry Potter all about? I folded his note and put it in my pocket, and proceeded to not open it again, forgetting what was in it as I forgot about the crush that I'd had.

That year, my family went on our trip to Spain and Mallorca. We were stranded in Johannesburg airport at midnight and I was restless, with nothing to do but wait to get on our flight. Mom decided to take a walk and came back half an hour later with a bag full of magazines and books, one of which was for me. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. I picked it up and looked at it, read the back a couple of times, but forced myself not to open it up and start reading. This book was for the plane. As soon as we boarded and I was comfortable in my seat, I opened it up, started reading the first chapter and... was asleep within minutes. When we got stuck in Lisbon for a couple of hours due to bad weather, I picked it up again, but found myself getting bored, so I made friends with the little girl sitting next to me instead. I put the book in my bag and forgot about it for awhile.

About two weeks later, when we were on the plane to Mallorca and I had read everything else I had brought with me, I picked up Harry Potter again and started reading. And this time, I got sucked in. From the moment the plane took off to the moment we landed, I couldn't put the book down, and when I finally did, it was only because I was forced to. Two days later, it was finished and I wanted more. Unfortunately, there were no English book stores, and certainly none that stocked HP at that stage, and so I had to wait. And I did. Very impatiently.

I finally convinced my mother to buy me the second and third books, and made my way through those in a matter of days. I was there for every new book launch, at midnight for some of them, and always tried to convince my parents that I was sick when they came out on school days so that I could stay home and breathe them in. When I got to University and the final book came out, there were no parents to stop me staying in, and my room became my cave - where I stayed until the last words had been read. When I finished the last book, it felt like the end of an era, but that was nothing compared to the feeling that washed over me as the final credits started on the final movie.

Harry Potter has been a big part of my life for the last 12 years. The books have made me laugh and cry, have been the building blocks for friendships and the source of some. I didn't cry in the last movie, not when I saw the bodies of Fred Weasley or Lupin and Nymphadora. But I did get a little teary when I realised that this was the last time that I would be lining up at the cinema to see a Harry Potter movie. There was nothing left to wait for. No books, no movies. It was really, truly, honestly over.

I am sure that I am going to be watching the movie (and probably all of the movies) again. In fact, I most definitely am, since I missed the first few minutes last night due to my woeful customer service issues of the day. However, I just wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you Harry, Ron and Hermione for being there for me when I needed you and thank you JK Rowling for bringing these characters to life. You will have my eternal gratitude.