Sometime last week it was 19 Years Later. It was the beginning of the final chapter in Deathly Hallows and just to say those words, upsets me.
I’m late to every trend and usually just forget it but I really wanted to post something I wrote.
Everyone has their own Harry Potter story. I don’t know why this book series captured the hearts of readers across the world the way it did. I read Harry Potter as a kid. I re-read the books almost every year and dissolve into a world that is filled with such welcome, loyalty and magic (not just the wizardy-kind) that I am filled with #happiness. I leave the pages of these books behind me every time, again and again filled with a #strength, a hope inside me the world around me drains everyday. And every time I need an escape, I return to Hogwarts, because it’s always there to welcome me home.
On each page, in each fold and tear there are memories, thoughts and feelings that I have left in the magical world J K Rowling built. Things that were too heavy to carry or too complicated to process during my childhood and teenage years, I left in Hogwarts, at the Shrieking Shack, at Hogsmeade. I let the characters in each book, my favourite people in the entire world carry me through, page by page, as real life continued to happen and the loyalty of those characters never wavered.
I remember in a random conversation I mentioned to our social worker that I wanted to read Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix but I couldn’t because Mom couldn’t afford to buy me the book and the library had a long wait list. I really didn’t expect the conversation to be remembered, I was a kid who wanted a dumb book, who cared? Apparently my social worker did. I came home from school and my Mom told me that I’d been left a present – it was a book. Yes, it was my very first Harry Potter book. It wasn’t borrowed from the library or a friend. It was my very own copy. It was my goodbye present as our social worker has finished working with us. I’m not sentimental over many things in my life, but I appreciate that book, a lot.
Even now, as a reluctant-adult when I read Harry Potter there is a sense of comfort and familiarity.
I don’t understand people who don’t read because look what reading gave me and continues to give me. I couldn’t imagine my life without all these witches and wizards and this world.