Harry Potter 6 Review and Memory: Trick-or-Treating

Today, of course, was the big day; we went to see the second-to-last Harry Potter movie on its opening night. You might ask yourself, "What will happen when the last movie comes out? Will it all be over?" This is my fear; what if the last part of the seventh movie marks the end of the "Harry Potter Era," and once it's over, Harry Potter will sink into some state of nonentity, and will only be referenced from time to time as "an old classic among the likes of Tolkien and C. S. Lewis"?
Anyways, the movie was pretty decent, compared to what a disaster the third movie was. The director kept to the overall plot, did not necessarily disappoint me with the reproduction of the cave/horcrux scene (besides the fact that they never explain the importance of the cave as a hiding place for the horcrux), and brought back direct quotes from the parts where direct quotes would have been crucial. However, this director put too much emphasis on the relationship aspect of the movie; Lavender and Ron, Hermione and Ron, Harry and Ginny, etc. Though this factor is definitely important in the book, it does not dominate the plot line. For example, they added a scene to the movie that did not exist in the book, during which Ron and Harry discussed Hermione and Ginny and how they each have "nice skin," which wasn't necessary, as Harry's and Ron's feelings respectively to Ginny and Hermione are already made known through other scenes.
Another scene that disappointed me was the scene in which Bellatrix Lestrange and Greyback (I think it was Greyback; they never properly introduce his character) appear outside of the Weasley's house and, among other things, set it on fire. Now, besides this scene being completely random and unconnected with the plot, it also doesn't exist in the book at all. I don't see why they can take a Stephen King book and make the movie production six hours long in order to keep every single detail, and then take a Harry Potter book and add and delete scenes where they see fit.
Besides these two drawbacks, the movie was very well done. The acting was flawless, as always, the humor that defines Harry Potter movies was present, and the resolution made you leave feeling warm and fuzzy. I also noticed that the way it was filmed was far more artsy than any of the other preceding movies; this can just be seen in the scene transitions, camera angles, and the like. Out of five stars, I would probably give this movie a four, and a recommendation to go see it. ****
Anyways, now that I'm done being a nerd, I'll progress to a memory. Somehow, I just remembered trick-or-treating in my old neighborhood, which is very close to my mom's current house on Gordon Dr. When my mom and dad were still together, we lived on 4220 Cavalier Dr., which was near the bottom of a hill; at the bottom of this hill was a cul-de-sac and a dead end. It really was a great place to grow up, a place where you could hear the crickets at night over the traffic, that sort of thing. Growing up, we lived next to a Baptist family with a cat that would leave dead squirrels in our yard, and a kind, talkative, older man who had a passion for his garden lived on our other side. Across the street was a family that we were well-acquainted with; my mom was friends with the mother who lived there and I was friends with her daughter and son, who are roughly my age and a bit younger. Down the street was an aging woman who still reminds me a bit of a basset hound, in that she has the sad-looking eyes; she owned a dog named Allie McBeagle who (you guessed it) was a beagle. This woman would always plan these neighborhood parties and get-togethers that we never really got around to going to. She was also in charge of the neighborhood watch. A very involved woman, you might say.
But, anyways, trick-or-treating: my old neighborhood was most beautiful to behold in Autumn. The trees' leaves turned mainly golden-orange and yellow, and would mingle with the purples and reds of my gardener neighbor's garden. They would form mountainous piles at the ends of driveways, piles that I and any other sane kid would die to jump in. You could smell the season, too; that heavy, musky scent, the crispness that precedes winter. And, my favorite part, as the wind blew, you could hear its whistle in harmony with the skittering of the leaves across the pavement.
It was a magical time of the year, to be sure; Halloween commercials would come on television about a month beforehand, and you would see kids walking out of costume stores clutching their purchases and skipping, anticipating the big night.
Up until I was about six, I would dress up in the same costume every year. I had a purple dress and hat, and so I called myself the "purple princess." My mom would dress in a simple black dress and hat with spazzier make-up than usual to be a witch, and my dad would go without a costume, though he would bring the most energy of the three of us; he loved the holiday even more than we did.
My neighborhood had a good yield, as far as candy was concerned. Almost every front porch light was on, and you would be met at each door by an inordinate amount of praise for your costume before receiving a dollop of candy. The neighborhood, which was usually completely dark at night, was illuminated by lanterns of orange, purple, and green, large plastic bats hung from trees, and the little glow stick torches. There were always lots of fellow trick-or-treaters, because my neighborhood had a lot of families with smaller children.
My dad always mentions this now: apparently, when I was little and would get tired from walking all through the neighborhood, he would pick me up and run me from house to house so that we could stay out as long as possible. He and my mom were always radiant on these nights.
For some reason, I remember one particular night when we went home earlier than usual, because the bag was getting heavy and because it was really cold outside; I remember being little, looking up at the sky, and saying, "Hey, Mommy, look - the sky is purple." And it was. It was comparable to Barney's hue, even. I remember standing there thinking, "Wow, I bet I'll never see a sky as purple as that again; and if I do, I'll think of Halloween, this night." And I was right; I've never seen any sky quite so extraordinarily purple since as the sky I saw that night.