Harry Potter.... over

I can't believe it! I've just finished the last book in the series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Wow. It seems so long ago, I must've been like eight, when I read the first book. I didn't know there were sequels, so I was delighted to find out that there were two more books, and four more coming. Book after book I devoured, and later movie after movie, though they never bested the books.

And now, it's over. No move books to read. Only two more movies left, which, although certainly entertaining, cannot match their printed counterparts.

It's just insane that this is over! It's been 10 long, amazing years, full of magic, adventure and suspense, packed within these 7 extraordinary novels.

But it's over now. The books I grew up with are read. No new adventures, no new magic.

Oh, well. I guess it's time to finish reading children's books and go on to the other still unread volumes in my shelf -- Brave New World, Catch 22, Neuromancer. That, and 100 Years of Solitude, a compulsory reading for my upcoming Spanish A1 IB course. Damn, I hate García Marquez. I know that's one of the most anti-patriotic things I can say to the only Nobel winner from my country, but hey, I love Jorge Franco, author of Rosario Tijeras and Paraíso Travel.

But Harry Potter will always remain in my heart, as the books that, beyond all others, introduced me to the joy of reading. I considered myself, ever when I was very young, a good reader. I read Roald Dahl and other children's authors. But never before Harry Potter did I start to seek books on my own, books I have loved and enjoyed also: The Lord of the Rings, 1984, The Lord of the Flies, The Giver, and many, many others.

For this, I want to thank J. K. Rowling, the creator of this extraordinary world. But, above all, I'd like to thank the teacher, which, back in the third grade, introduced me to this unrealistic and enthralling world of magic and fantasy; a teacher which, unfortunately, I remember nothing about, not even her name.