*Insert Harry Potter theme tune here*

And just like that, it's all over.

Yes, everybody, yesterday I saw the last Harry Potter film ever.

Now, I expected to love the movie, which I did. I expected to cry, as I cry in almost every movie I see so there's no difference there. I expected to be sad.

I didn't expect to be sobbing openly in the movie theatre.

Such an extreme reaction might seem indulgent, or over the top. I mean, for so many people, it's just a movie, based on just a book. But here's the magic of Harry Potter (pardon the pun) - It is so much more then that. SO much more then just a story. People grew up with it. It became a part of their childhood. A lot of people don't remember a time without Harry Potter, so it's no surprise that the reactions to the final film can be a tad dramatic. This was my life as well. Harry Potter was HUGE to me. And I'll explain why.

My Harry Potter Life Story

Everyone has a Harry Potter story. How they fell in love with it. What it means to them. Mine all started in year two, when I started at a new school. I think it was my third day at this new school when our teacher pulled out Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Every wednesday he would read a chapter or two to the class. They had already read Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone last year, so I was a bit behind. I had never heard of Harry Potter, but soon I was enjoying it as much as everyone else. Our teacher would put on a Dobby voice, or a gruff Hagrid voice and we'd be giggling and gasping in the rapt way that seven year olds listen to really good stories.

After we finished the book in school, I was dying to read more. I got the first book and read that on my own. The I bought the second book and read it again. The third book hadn't been released yet, but by the time it was I was a fan. I loved everything about this magical world, and these characters. As the kind of child that determinedly refused to stop believing in fairies and magic, this book was perfect for me.

The second part of my Harry Potter love affair began when I took Ballet lessons around the time I discovered Harry Potter. It was at Ballet that I met a long time childhood best friend, Cybelle. We did ballet lessons together every week, and had many a playdate in between. Soon, we realised that we both loved Harry Potter. In our mind, no two people had ever loved it more then us. When the first movie was released, we went and saw it together, wearing our Best Friend Forever connecting necklaces (weren't we adorable?) We were in ecstasy. Before long we had begun playing every Harry Potter game you could ever imagine. We combed the books and wrote down all the spells, learning them as if we were in class. We ran around creating this magnificent adventures that involved her next door neighbours cat being an animagus who was actually a very powerful Witch in hiding. We even started to write down all our adventures in a special book we made together.

Harry Potter was our thing. Sadly, we both moved away, and phone calls became less and less frequent. But I know she still loves Harry Potter with as much passion as I do.

Despite not being with my Harry Potter loving best friend, my boy-wizard love affair didn't end. I anticipated each new book, and each new movie. My older sister started reading the books after a while, but I always got to read them first. Harry Potter was the best way to make me happy. Once, before school, I cried and cried because I had made Mum as angry as she could possibly get. Later that day she bought me a Harry Potter card game to reconcile over and there was no better move she could have made. I would forgive anyone who came to me with Harry Potter merchandise.

I read the books too many times to count. I kept count up to about 23 and then I lost track.

My little sister and her friend also used to play their version of 'Hogwarts' and I would organise it for them. I'd organise their classes, teach them spells, and create little adventures with riddles to solve and Harry Potter trivia to answer. I loved it as much as they did.

In high-school, Harry Potter became my comfort book. Whenever I felt a bit miserable, or very miserable about something, I would read it. I would be sad, at school, and sitting there I would get excited that I had Harry Potter to read when I came home. I would devour each book, reading it constantly. It irritated my little sister no end, who decided to hide my books because I was reading them at dinner when she wanted to talk to me. I got them back, and she tried to snatch the off me which resulted in the front page being ripped off. Needless to say I was not happy. The book has been lovingly taped back together.

Then, the last book came out. I read it as slowly as I could force myself because I didn't want it to end. But it did, and I loved every word of it.

I can thank Harry Potter for many things. I can thank it for giving me the tools to a wonderful imagination. For being responsible for the best parts of my childhood. For inspiring me to want to write a story just as magical. For inspiring me to want to inspire other imaginations. For making me feel better when I felt terrible. For giving me something to look forward to every time a book was to be released or a movie was to come out.

It may sound cliched to some people. I know there are people who never got into Harry Potter (two of my best friends for example) and they don't get how it can mean so much to anyone. But Harry Potter does mean this much to me, whether it's rational or not. It means so much. And that's why I cried throughout the whole damn movie, and that's why I was so overwhelmed at the end of it. I grew up at the exact same time as the characters. I went through aspects (emotional ones, not the magical ones - although I desperately wished I could have had the magical problems too) of what they were going through.

And plain and simple - I freaking love it.