I definitely enjoyed it, and it was worth reading straight through for eight hours to get to the end, but ultimately I’m disappointed that it never really transcended its fluffy children’s entertainment roots. Seven books is a lot of words to put on the page without significantly improving as a writer. There were so many hints of complexity in the background that were glossed over to keep the focus on Harry’s experience. So it was an appropriate ending for the story, and it’s a more mature tale in the levels of violence (and snogging), but the storytelling didn’t really mature with it.
Also–I can think of so many other things I would have liked to hear about in that epilogue, rather than the completely predictable direction it took.
Also also–I’ve seen people complain that HP is not nearly as awesome as various other YA works (and by implication, is overrated relative to the complainer’s favorite books), particularly Phillip Pullman’s Dark Materials trilogy, but I thought those suffered the same kind of disappointing hollowness at the end. Maybe more so, because the big important thing Pullman built up to seemed awfully cheesy and over-hyped once I got to it. Whereas the big important things discovered at the end of HP were about right.