Seeing Harry Potter tonight (all the way to the end) was as sweet as one of those chocolate frogs that leaps about the Hogwarts Express, but in some way also as bitter as that every flavor jelly bean that "tastes like bogeys." -- And not just in the sense that Harry, Ron and Hermoine had the inevitable end to their story, with all of the flashy, special effects that Hollywood could possibly contribute. That much was actually incredibly satisfying, from the inclusion of Harry's revealing dive into Snape's memory, to the ultimate showdown with You-Know-Who, and to that epilogue that JK Rowling included in a kind of motherly way to reassure us that, really, our heroes DID live happily ever after. Indeed, it is a fairy tale ending, but a well-deserved fairy tale ending, occurring after hundreds of pages (or countless film minutes) of beloved characters dying one after the other.
In some sense, I feel as if I have grown up being a part of that fairy tale. When the first movie came out in 2001, I was eleven years old, and I read the book as a way of giving myself permission to see the movie. Both Harry Potter and actor Daniel Radcliffe were right around my age then, too. I remember reading the fifth book a few years later, as soon as it came out: JK Rowling had taken her sweet time writing it, and it was particularly long and depressing. The end of that fourth book - and everything that comes after - is a kind of grand confrontation between these kid wizards and the big, bad world. I'm not sure why, but I didn't read the sixth and seventh novels until after my first year of college. Actually, I'm glad I waited; I felt as if I could better appreciate the complex story and downright amazing ideas that give us a warm, meaningful way to think about life, despite all of its dark corners.
Now, here I am, writing directly after seeing Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley and Hermoine Grainger, all grown up, happy and with children. As ridiculous as it may sound, it was incredibly jolting to see Harry hugging his son and Hermoine exercising her motherly know-how with her own daughter. I felt - dare I say it? - old. Of course I am still very young, but it is strange to think that after next year, my friends and I will have our college degrees, and we will head off to do who-knows-what thereafter. Yes, we have grown up with these characters, in the sense that they have been in our lives for a long time and that people my age are at least somewhat chronologically in sync. Luckily we probably won't have to confront anybody quite as evil or as powerful as Voldemort.
The final realisation of Rowling's work in film is a kind of release, a letting go. It was a reminder, gently - albeit dazzlingly - saying, "You're not a kid anymore." Harry's final installment begs us to have the courage to make difficult choices that aren't necessarily personally convenient or popular. And, perhaps best of all, it gives us the permission to keep on imagining and striving for what could be...
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