One month ago, tickets for "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2" became available online.
I know, because I'd been checking for two weeks. So I promptly bought two seats for the 12:05 a.m. show — but only because 12:01 was already sold out.
Tonight, I will be at the Cinemark in Orem, waiting in line with other Potterheads, in my coke-bottle glasses dressed as Professor Trelawney.
"Harry Potter" was an integral part of my childhood and teenage years. Even now that I'm in my 20s and the bindings of my book copies are falling apart, the stories haven't left me.
In fact, the magic of the series magnifies when I reread the books or watch one of the films, even if the movies haven't always lived up to my high expectations.
I play Quidditch, bake pumpkin pasties and shout out an occasional incantation. On top of that, I have a slightly insane, but unique, tradition of reading the entire "Harry Potter" series before each movie comes out.
Moments after I snagged my midnight ticket, I picked up my hardback copy of "The Sorcerer's Stone," determined to read all 4,100 pages of pure Pottermania before July 15.
One time I finished all seven books within a week and a half, but for the most part it takes a few weeks to plow through the series.
So why do it?
I initiated the tradition to refresh my memory before seeing the movies in order to fill in any gaps (especially for this last film).
With that as my motive, I turn the pages in complete awe of the magical world J.K. Rowling created for my generation, so rich in detail that it's almost uncanny that the wizarding world doesn't actually exist.
Those who have read the books know Rowling included no detail by accident, even from the very first chapters of "The Sorcerer's Stone." She strategically plants sentences with subtle hints, and then returns to those details throughout the rest of the series.
The lack of these miniscule details is the reason the movies fall short for fans. But at the same time, it's not fair to point the failure finger at screenwriters because it's not fathomable to give screen time to all of Rowling's infinite details.
Rereading the books for the umpteenth time brought the many subtle, and sometimes extremely obvious, differences between the books and movies full circle.
Sometimes these differences compromise development of characters. For example, during "The Sorcerer's Stone" film, Severus Snape awkwardly wishes Potter good luck for his first Quidditch game, "even if it is against Slytherin." But the Snape I've grown to love (and loathe) would be repulsed by the idea of vocally supporting Potter because of his incurable detestation for "the Boy Who Lived."
Then there are added scenes with no support from the books whatsoever, such as the Burrow burning down in "The Half-Blood Prince" film. It's still an unexplainable mystery to me why the filmmakers decided to destroy a house that remains thoroughly intact even throughout "The Deathly Hallows."
Being split into two parts gives "The Deathly Hallows" twice as much screen time, an advantage none of the other films had. Part 1 wasn't perfect by any means, and Part 2 is bound to be just as imperfect.
But there is one thing I've learned from the films and books: Both can live while the other survives.
It's not a question of whether the movies do justice to the books; it's about the universe the two mediums create when put side-by-side. The movies gave faces to our favorite fictional characters and brought Hogwarts from the depths of our imagination.
Together, the books and movies created a magical world parallel to my own.
But above all, these stories have ingrained the power of love and family in the fight for the greater good on Muggle cultures across the world.
And that's something we'll never forget.
Caitlin Orton is a senior at BYU and a staff writer for the Deseret News.
Email: corton@desnews.com