Mr. Sandy and I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows the other night. (I'd been reading a chapter a night aloud at bedtime, and in hindsight it is clear that I have J.K. Rowling to blame for some of my recent fatigue.)
What an amazingly good, rich set of stories this has been. I feel a little bereft. They are there to reread of course, but still.
I love best the details -- the characters' wonderful names, the odd plants and magical creatures, the owls, the secrets of Hogwarts, the charms and potions and devices. Portraits and portkeys. Howlers and gillyweed and blast-ended skrewts.
And I have questions! There are loose ends -- what happened to...? How did...?
I need to see the deleted scenes!
Ah well. Though I'm sorry the saga is over and I'll miss that first-time reading experience, I'm so glad that I didn't ignore this series first as kid stuff, then as an overhyped popular culture phenomenon. It's more than both those things.
Well done, Ms. Rowling, well done indeed.