My childhood ended on Sunday, July 22, at approximately 10:30 AM. No, my birthday’s not until later in the summer. And no, I did not witness a triple homicide or get pregnant.
I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
I found it hard to explain, even to myself, why I got so worked up about it. I read it on the car trip back from South Dakota, and barely paused to breathe. And now I’m on Facebook, sadly perusing the groups I once joined when I was but a child: “Fuck This, I’m Going To Hogwarts,” “After Harry Potter Seven Comes Out I Won’t Have Anything To Live For“.
It’s the end of a series that’s been around for all of my teenage years. It just feels weird to think that there are no more Harry Potter books coming.
And an interview with J.K. Rowling, in which she gives us a few hints on what might be in that Harry Potter encyclopedia: