Image by Ria Sopala from Pixabay
No matter what’s going on in the wide world or the tangled web of my own thoughts, I can always find comfort in the Harry Potter series.
Maybe it’s a yearning for days’ past. I remember reading Sorcerer’s Stone while pregnant with my daughter; a little over a decade later, she’d read all seven books on her own. For my son’s 5th grade Meet the Teacher night, we were treated to a room decorated so lavishly in Harry Potter themes that it felt like we’d stepped straight into Hogwarts.
I’ve rewatched the movies countless times, especially Deathly Hallows Part 1 (my forever favorite). However, I didn’t actually reread the series until 2018. By then it seemed as if I were reading it for the first time. So many details stood out to me: the surly dwarves grimly delivering Valentine’s in Chamber of Secrets; the hilarious Sir Cadogan bravely (and clumsily) defending the Gryffindor Common Room in Prisoner of Azkaban, the moving backstory and gratifying redemption arc of Kreacher the house-elf.
I used to feel embarrassed about posting my Harry Potter rereads on Goodreads. There are so many books out there, and yet every other year I devote a few months to completing the series again. I can’t help it though; it’s such a comfort to me. And these days, more than ever, we have to take what comfort we can.
I love the Harry Potter series. I admit my re-read has stalled at The Order of the Phoenix. Not only is the length daunting, weird because long books have never been an issue in general, but that’s also where things begin to get very dark very quickly and a certain grim trajectory is set. Though I guess that really happened at the end of The Goblet of Fire with Cedric Diggory’s death, and I just hesitant to step forward into the coming darkness. Great post! You’ve made me go all philosophical!