Harry Potter Seven

Just finished reading it. I'll try not to spoil anything. This book moves slowly; it's almost solemn. Rowling manages to be moving when she doesn't overexert herself, and the characters remain distinctly human. But there's no joy here, no wonder, really. We've come a long way from the Sorceror's Stone. Now that it's over, I'm left with a kind of empty feeling. Is that what was supposed to happen?