Hello all and a happy Harry holiday!
Now I know you all don’t know me very well yet, but if you did, you’d know I am a gigantic fangirl-wingardium-leviosa-wizarding-world fan of Harry Potter. Not the character so much as the story. Can I go to Hogwarts now? Since today is Harry’s 35th birthday, I thought it would be a good time to celebrate my introduction to a life long love of books.
I learned to read when I was three years old, and I never turned back. My mom read to me every night before I went to sleep, and the first “chapter book” I can vividly remember her reading is -wait for it- Harry Potter. I know, total surprise, right? Anyway. I loved books so much that my parents started buying me books as gifts for pretty much everything. I received my very first HP book when I was six years old for losing a tooth. That sneaky tooth fairy. She had no idea what she was getting me into. At first, I wasn’t impressed by a book about a BOY wizard (ew, cooties), but before long I was hooked. And not too long after that, my parents were also hooked. My dad started coming in and listening to my mom read aloud. Then, they started stealing the book to read ahead while I was asleep (party foul, guys). Now this was 1998 so the first book had just been published in the States, and we had to wait impatiently for the next to be released. By the time I was old enough to read them myself – which I believe I started doing with the release of The Goblet of Fire – my family bought three separate copies in order to minimize the arguments over who got to read the book when. Yes, we had family arguments over HP. Don’t judge.
These books are special to me not only because I love the story and the characters, but because they’re representative of a really special time with my family when I was young. My parents still call me to settle debates about the name of Hagrid/Sirius’ Hippogriff, or if Harry was actually a horcrux (uhm, duh). I re-read them every time I begin a new chapter in my life, because they are more comforting than any comfort food could ever be. So thank you, Ms. Rowling, for the gift. And happy birthday to Harry.
I’ll write again soon. Until then, keep reading.