I was torn between excitement and dread on watching the final installment of my favorite series. I was excited to see how the director, David Yates, handled the movie, how the effects are, what they changed from the book and how all the characters look like now that everybody’s all grown up. But, I dread seeing it. I don’t want it to end yet. I am not ready.
I know it’s only a movie but if you have read all the books - immersed yourself in the world of Hogwarts, muggles, quidditch, patronuses, wizards and witches – you would understand what I mean.
It feels like I know Harry Potter personally. I’ve known him since he was 11 years old when told Hagrid, “I can’t be a wizard. I’m just Harry. Just Harry.” I’ve seen him fly his Nimbus 2000 and won quidditch matches. I’ve seen him struggled in Potions Class. I cried when he lost his godfather, Sirius Black. Cried even harder when he lost his mentor, Albus Dumbledore.
As I was watching the last installment of Harry Potter, I was biting back tears. Hubby’s gonna laugh at me for sure. But, there were a few scenes where I had to wipe away my tears. I cannot help it. Those scenes were just bittersweet. Like when Harry, Hermione and Ron first saw Neville, then the scene where the students clapped their hands after seeing Harry was back at Hogwarts, the scene when Harry left Hermione and Ron to face Voldemort alone at the forest…I’ve said to much, I might be spoiling it for those who have not yet seen it.
When the movie was over, I wanted to cry, I wanted to clap my hands, I wanted to stay until the credits fade away.
It is sad seeing Harry Potter for the last time.
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