Post-Potter Stress DisorderPosted: July 17, 2011
By Sophie Rae
Last week, as I purchased my tickets to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2– I came to a sort of realization (because simply buying tickets without having it be a moment of self-discovery just doesn’t cut it in the blogosphere): I have spent 10 out of my 16 years waiting for Harry Potter. Whether it was waiting for books, movies, rumors about the books, or trailers for the movies, there has always been something Harry Potter to obsess over.
After coming to this realization, I began to wonder how I would react to seeing the last movie. Would I suffer from post-Potter-stress disorder? Would I learn to move on and restore Harry to his true place as a relatively basic and slightly arrogant fictional hero? Would I find something new to obsess over?
I didn’t really manage to answer any of these questions, though I did reach the very important conclusion that I should wear water-proof mascara when seeing the movie. I knew that no matter how long or short it took me to get over Potter-syndrome, the movie itself would certainly be very emotional. Not only would I be saying goodbye to characters I have known and loved for practically my whole life, I would be (ok, I give you all permission to laugh) saying goodbye to my childhood. If I think about it, I can chronicle my whole childhood through Harry Potter. I can remember having the Sorcerer’s Stone read to me by my first grade teacher. I remember my dad putting me to sleep reading the Chamber of Secrets and Prisoner of Azkaban and what a big deal it was when I read Goblet of Fire on my
own. I dressed up as Hermione for Halloween for two years in a row, I spent hours acting out scenes from the books with my friends, my personal favorite being from the first book when Harry goes to Diagon Alley to pick up his school supplies (I have a thing for school supplies). I replayed the super bad-ass Hermione-Malfoy punch in Goblet of Fire on DVD about fifty times. Last year, my friend and I even exchanged light-up wands as gifts for the holidays (because buying yourself a wand is too much, even for me).
Seven expedited book-shippings, eight manic midnights, and many tears and laughs later, it is finally over. I saw the final movie at 12:07 (12:00, 12:01, 12:02, and so on, were all sold out), on Thursday night and loved every minute of it.
It would be nice if I were mature enough to simply admit that it’s just a story, it’s all made up, and now it’s over. But I don’t think I’m ready to do that just yet.
Alas, I have no choice but to re-read all the Harry Potter books this summer at which I point I will finally be able to say goodbye.
Unless ABC Family continues their Harry Potter weekends…