Emily's Review: Harry Potter. All of Them. by J.K. Rowling

Reader, I can do magic.
How do I prove it? I read minds: why is Emily covering books everyone has read?
Well, the Harry Potter series comes to an end at the stroke of midnight on Friday, so it seemed fitting-- but the real reason-- the absolutely sincere, drug-me-with-Veritaserum reason is that I grew up with the kids at Hogwarts. You hear that from a lot of people, but I had something other fans (younger or older than me) never did. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were always around my age when the books came out.
I was there from the start. My childhood is ending with these books.
I finished Sorcerer's Stone and Chamber of Secrets in my mother's bed. Prisoner of Azkaban, I almost dropped off the side of a boat in Alcova. Goblet of Fire was the summer my cousin came to visit; I read at a leisurely pace on the sides of swimming pools and in my bed. My cousin listened to the audio book. A week after I'd finished, I awoke-- at one o' clock in the morning-- in the room we shared, to find him listening to Cedric Diggory die. Order of the Phoenix came and went in one giant gulp. I finished it after two days in bed. I read Half-Blood Prince in the back of my father's pickup, on my way to Sheridan.
Plenty of other books made me cry. Plenty of other books made my heart race. No, I don't think Rowling is a brilliant writer, but she's always held charm for me. I don't know why I'm so attached. Reader, I implore you-- if you haven't, then pick up this series. You might like it; you might not. Just think, though, of what I've gone through with everyone at Hogwarts.
I grew up alongside Harry Potter.
I'm spending a week with my best friend Kathryn, before she goes to St. Olaf College, and I stay in Casper. This is it. This is the end of our childhood. It's the end of Harry's, too-- and we're living it together.