From before I could remember, from before I could think, probably even before I could talk, Harry Potter has been a huge part of my life.
The story itself is older than me. The idea of the story, even older than some people reading this. J.K Rowling came up with the idea of the stories we now know in 1991. The first book was published in 1997 in England, 1998 in America and other parts of the world. Needless to say, at these points in time, I wasn't even a thought in my parent's minds, not even a speck of dust on this planet.
One of my first memories of Harry Potter, and one of my first memories overall, is watching one of the scarier scenes from the first movie. This is none other than the scene from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, where Harry is yelling at the echo of Voldemort sketched into Professor Quirrel's face. I had to look through the bars of the upstairs balcony, because my sibling had forbidden me to watch, read, discuss, look at, or even think about Harry Potter. That is, of course, until I was at the age of eight.
As a bright young child, I had many books to read during my free time in class. On another normal trip to the library, I saw that finally, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was in my reading level. I checked out the hardcover book that was much larger and heavier than any book I had ever seen in my life. I began reading, and my mind filled with the imaginative world of spells, enchantments, wizards, witches, goblins, dragons, and giants. My eight year old mind could not being to wrap around the symbolism, mysteries, easter eggs, and style of the novels themselves. All I knew was that I could finally read Harry Potter.
That year, I finished books one and two. The next year, in third grade, books three and four. Fourth grade gave me the fifth book, the longest book I have ever, and will ever, read, and the summer before fifth grade, I finished the sixth and seventh books. The sixth book took me a few weeks. The seventh took me merely twelve hours.
Throughout all of the years being known as the Harry Potter fangirl, all of the trivia questions that I (almost) always have the right answer to, and countless Halloweens dressed as various characters, Harry Potter has never ceased to amaze me, comfort me, and make me feel at home. During one of my very first panic attacks, I held on to the fourth book for comfort. In the death of my father, I was able to see the pain that I was feeling in many characters in the books. Even my laws of life essay was based off of the quote from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,
"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light."
J. K. Rowling has shown me, and the rest of the world, how the power of love overcomes the love of power in the end. She shows us love and loss, support and sacrifice, all throughout a beautiful story that can be read again and again, analyzed countless ways, adapted into too many different art forms to count.
Harry Potter is not simply something I enjoy. It is something that I am. It is a part of me.
