I've finished the final book of the Harry Potter series. I began reading them in 2000, after resisting the fad for several years. I was at once hooked. I read a book in my youth (in all my memories of my youth, I am 8 years old, but I think that I might have actually been 8 for this one) that involved a quest, something like the scylla and charibdis, and alternate realities. I wished that book would go on forever, and I remember its impression to this day, even if I'm at a loss to describe anything more than that, or recall the title.
The Harry Potter stories will hold their place in that canon, along with the Narnia books and a select few children's stories like the little golden book Mister Dog, and The Westinghouse Game (does anyone else remember that story? Because I can't find it on Amazon, or anywhere else for that matter).
It's weird to be done. To have read along with the rest of the world, hotly anticipating the publication of books 4-7, happily approving of the casting for the films, discussing all things Harry Potter with just about all my friends, and to have it all be over? Harry Potter has helped create a bond between me and many people.
I am happy to have been a part of the phenomenon, and I will miss it. I suppose now I can obsess over the next two movies.