No spoilers contained. Simply my feelings. I'm sure half the world or more feels the same way I do to some extent.

-

The girl stood looking up reverently at the orderly set containing a good portion of her childhood. They looked oddly beautiful together; a few missing covers, the colors maybe coordinated, maybe not. The girl's personality had been formed between these pages. Her hair as bushy as Hermione's, her eyes and smile as listless as Luna's, and her sense of unthinking fun and loyalty remarkably like that of a certain Sirius Black. She'd been told so by enough people now to actually start believing them. It seemed impossible that this could be the end. It was well past the time of tears but an odd emptiness had welled up in the pit of her stomach. Anya you've got to move on, it's just a book, common sense told her. But as she passed a mirror and really saw herself for the first time in years, she realized that it was not just a book. It had been her book. Beginning in the second grade and following her till her junior year of high school it had lived with her and endured her experiences in their own way. She and the books had grown up together, and that was what the mirror was telling her. Harry Potter had become an adult, and so had she. The series was over. It was time to take the person she had become and write her own story.

-I've signed this with the tears that hit the pages of the last Harry Potter book and were shut there to dry.