Farewell?
I’m devastated about watching the last Harry Potter film next week. Not because I’ll miss the special effects or Rupert Grint’s lovesick grin, but because over ten years ago, I seriously believed that I was going to get an owl on my 11th birthday and be whisked off into a magical world. J.K. Rowling created an improbable world that was incredibly believable because it had faith in the goodness of humanity.
And frankly, when you’re 13 years old and you really hate middle school, that’s exactly what you need.
I want to say I don’t need Harry Potter anymore, but that may be a lie.
