Thoughts on the end of an era. The *teensiest* bit spoilery, so read with caution!
I spent last night in a turban, tie, and green face makeup (the ballingest zombie Quirrell ever to grace AMC 41). This morning, I realized it was probably the last time I would ever dress up for a movie release. Lindsay suggested I dress up for The Hunger Games. After a long pause, I responded with a lackluster, “Yeah. Maybe.”
My favorite moment of the premiere was on my way back from the bathroom. A girl stopped me and asked me to write in her copy of The Deathly Hallows.
“What, like sign it?”
“No. Just say what Harry Potter meant to you.”
“What, like on a page?”
“Wherever.” I definitely felt the pressure to be profound, but what I came up with was sincere. In green pen, on page 394, I wrote:
Harry Potter means believing in magic. Always.
Last year, small children hissed at me for dressing up as a Slytherin. It was very disconcerting and utter House-ism! This year, I went the safe route and donned my Hermione apparel. (Who doesn’t like Hermione? The Golden Trio wouldn’t have lasted a week without her during the whole camping business.) Awesome costumes were all the eye could see. House Elves with crazy socks ran about with buttery popcorn, and every Hogwarts House was represented. My favorite was a dashing Blaise Zabini. He was legitimately as handsome as the real thing.
The audience in my theater had a penchant for cheering and laughing, though at slightly inappropriate times (like this one time, when Voldemort is all LULZ, the audience started laughing, too). Most of the fans knew exactly where this tale was heading. Neville Longbottom couldn’t appear on screen without being heralded with shrieks of admiration. Seriously. That boy makes a sweater-vest look good. Luna Lovegood was probably just as adored. Put those two together in a scene, and people went wild. Basically, the last movie is absolutely thrilling. P.S. What was with McGonagall and the dungeon banishment? Slytherins need more love and equality!
It’s 10:30am, I have not slept in two days, and all because of Harry Potter. It’s no surprise that HP has this effect on almost everyone who touches it, and I am dearly saddened to see it end. At the premiere last night, the hordes of people waiting in line all came to see a part of their lives, their hearts, come to a conclusion. But it was not without joy or a sense of playfulness. Viewers came dressed as HP characters (Emily Steele was an AMAZING zombie Quirrell, FYI), they sang songs, they chatted about how HP changed their lives, and how it would always be a part of them. To them, and to me, HP is about believing that all things are possible.
Despite all odds, despite grave sacrifices, Harry & co. rise above to defeat darkness. The graphics were mind-blowing, the acting made it real, and those 2 or so hours felt like a 10 minute roller-coaster ride I didn’t want to end. There was absolutely nothing more satisfying than seeing Molly blow Bellatrix to bits or Neville annihilate Nagini. And as much as I LOVE Voldemort, I couldn’t help but give out a cry of joy when Harry defeated him. Even though the series of films and books has come to an end, it does not mean the end of HP, or of HP fans. And if the collective reaction and camaraderie I witnessed last night has anything to say about it, HP will live on for very, very long time.