I placed the seventh book on the shelf today, feeling a slight pain in my stomach as I did so. I was saying goodbye to my good friends, until I returned to visit them once more. As the Three Musketeers had stolen my heart, so had Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

There are many who are quick to point out the Harry Potter series is not brilliant, nor is its plot entirely original. Many who do not understand the wonder that the world has found in this saga. Yet it is not the story itself, but rather how the story is told, that captured our imaginations. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are the best of friends, bonded together by love and hope in an unending testament to loyalty, bravery, and self-sacrifice. They are our friends, too, as we turn each page, and Hogwarts is perhaps even our second home. Dumbledore, Neville, McGonagall, and all the other characters that so enthralled us are there, waiting for us to visit them once again.

The wonder I found in these books goes beyond what I find in most. They are of a rare variety, the book that so captures us that we cannot help feel entwined in each word, each laugh, each tear. For a few days I might feel a loss after finishing a final page in a regular book, but for Harry, I shall always feel that burning to return to his world and life--to return to my friends and the love that dwells with them.