In Memorandum

The Remus Lupins and Harry and the Potters pound my eardrums. The songs bring memories to the surface that I haven't thought of in years, memories from my childhood that will stick with me forever. I notice that tears have sprung to my eyes as these bitter-sweet moments overwhelm me, knocking the breath from my lungs with the impact of an eighteen-wheeler.

FLASH.

It was Christmas morning. The young girl, only eight years old, tore the paper gleefully from her present. She stared down at the gift and couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed; it was a book.

She set the book aside and it lay forgotten until later in the day, when she finally opened its welcoming cover.

FLASH.

She was laying on her bed, nearly finished, staring wide-eyed at the black letters of the second book. Her mouth dropped open, a loud gasp escaping into the silence like a hammer on glass. It was only the second book and she had already been surprised.

Ginny Weasley!

FLASH.

In the car she was holding Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban so tightly that her knuckles were white. She felt her stomach begin to drop, and yet again she gasped, her mother casting a nervous glance her way. She had walked right into J.K. Rowling's twists again, but this time it had hit her where it hurt: Remus Lupin was her favorite character, and he was a werewolf!

FLASH.

Her parents handed her Book 4 as an end-of-second-grade present, and she dove into it without hesitation. Curled up in her favorite corner of the sofa with the light from the lamp shedding its friendly glow over the pages, she poured over her favorite novel with unmeasured love. For days she carved through its chapters with a determination reserved only for Harry Potter

FLASH.

It was the midnight party for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. She and her friend excitedly took their copies and hurried home. She had scarcely got past page 20 when she finally fell asleep with it still open.

FLASH.

And now she had the sixth book in the saga, sitting in that same corner of the couch where she had read Goblet of Fire, and she started to cry. Tears ran down her face, but she had nothing of which to be ashamed. She didn't care what her family thought because death was overpowering her…

FLASH.

The sky was dark overhead, stars glinting happily down on the three girls. They giggled, staring up into the heavens.

One of them finally whispered, "Happy birthday, Harry!"

FLASH.

The theater was dark, the movie just starting. She and her friends were sitting in the front row, eating popcorn and candy and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. She popped one of the jelly beans into her mouth, and spit it out right away. "Eww, sardine!"

FLASH.

The stacks of the seventh book towered behind the check-out counter, their bright covers smiling down on her.

She turned to her friend. They had waited so long for this moment, so long to finally see those novels in their hands, and it would finally be over.

FLASH.

It was chapter four, and she was crying. All her friends, who had joined together to read all night, were sobbing, and she couldn't help smiling a little as she remembered all of the past tears she had shed. Again and again through dawn, she cried alongside the people who had been with her from the beginning of the adventure. And then…

She wept as Harry walked to his death, could feel his pain, and all the years of fanatics were standing behind her as she turned the pages. It all came down to this moment, and her tears stained the page, and it was oddly satisfying to see her own grief smearing the writing ever so slightly, and it would soon be over.

And finally, she turned to the last page and shut the book, tears still wetting her cheeks as she gazed into the future. The journey was over.

But she knew that as long as she loved it, it would never really end…

A/N: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter; I do not.