The End.

There i was. Whipping the books out at every spare time I had. It didn't matter that I was reading at the bus stop or on my Mac desk in plain sight. There was this compelling urge to finish them all. Maybe this desire, bordering upon obsession, has always kept me firmly in the mythical and wonderous world of literature and lore. Or how it amazes my parents or friends on how long one can read non-stop.

It really is gratifying to read all 7 books consecutatively. It does give you a rather accurate oversight on the entire series. If there is something i hate, it will be trying to remember bits and parts of the first book you read ten years ago.

Along the way on completing the 5 thick tomes(I consider the first 3 books 2 tomes combined), I was thrilled, moved, exhilarated and at many times, reflective on how accurate J. K. Rowling describes emotions which I myself experienced.
An excerpt from the last book," And then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion, better than Firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair."

To Harry. The boy who lived. *Raises his goblet*