So, I finished reading the last Harry Potter book to Alex tonight. Two or three years’ worth of bedtimes, and astonishing to think, I’ve read all seven books out loud. Stephen Fry, eat your heart out. Alex can’t even remember that far back, when he was just four years old and in Reception class, so effectively he’s never known a bedtime without Harry Potter being read to him. I don’t know how we’re going to fill the void!
The incredible thing was, today we went up to London. By train. From Cambridge to Kings Cross. So naturally we went to take a look at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. On the very same day that we finished the Harry Potter series. How about that for a coincidence?
I’ve enjoyed the books. I can’t say I kept up with every last character and detail, and I was confused as to how Neville got the sword of Gryffindor at the end (did Griphook put it back in the Sorting Hat or something?). I also thought Voldemort went without much of a fight – or at least with an uncharacteristic number of fundamental fighting mistakes. I can’t wait for the last two – no, three, apparently – Harry Potter films. Not least of which because he seems to spend most of the last two books under the Invisibility Cloak, which is going to be rather hard to film.