A little more back story on myself for those that may not have known me very long. As a kid, I was pretty active, I played games and stuff like any kid would. One day, I picked up this book. It read "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" on the cover. Now, as a child growing up on shows like Batman, Spiderman and Power Rangers, I was a major superhero-admiring kid. At the time, all I wanted were superpowers. Magic never crossed my mind. Not in the least. But something made me wanna give this a try. So I thought, "Well, why not. Maybe it'll get my Mom off my back when she next tries to convince me to stop playing Playstation and tells me to go read a book."
Now I was no avid reader, and my English at the time was pretty average. But after I picked that book up, I was hooked. Not to say that I became anti-social, not at all. But I did spend a good amount of time burying my face inside this wonderful book. My Mom even went from telling me to sit still to telling me to "Put the damn book down! Otherwise you're gonna fall down an open manhole or drain or walk straight into a wall!" (Mind you I did actually walk into a wall a couple of times and fell into an open drain I didn't see once.) I used to do that with my Gameboy in front of my face, but I traded that in for a book. Believe it or not, I saw the faintest hint of a smile on my Mom and Grandma's faces. They said it was because I was just like my Mom now, unable to put a good book down even for a minute.
But I digress. Now I only started reading Harry Potter when I was about 9, and for some reason I had The Philosopher's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets already at home, so once I'd covered the book from end to end, I was off to the next one without a hitch. I slowly became a quiet reader in class, not usually hanging out with the soccer or basketball players, but running off with my two friends to the library and huddling in one corner with a good book. I remember around this time that the movies were coming out, and watching them for the first time just made me love the series even more. So as I got older, I began moving from book to book, watching the movie as soon as I had finished the book. My childhood to my teens can actually be chronologically marked by which book I read at the time. I always seemed to have the next book ready on my shelf just as I finished the last one (Thank you, Mom. I love you.)
By the time I had reached the sixth installment, the Half-Blood Prince, I was in love with the story, the movies, everything about this wonderful, magical world created by this one brilliant woman. I waited patiently for the Deathly Hallows and was rewarded handsomely with a brand new book one fine day. I remember that night, I refused to open and read it because I knew I would get no sleep if I did. So I shelved it and as I slid it in next to the rest of the books, all sitting in order, I felt the last piece of the puzzle click into place. I savoured every page, every word, every twist and turn, knowing that I only had one chance to enjoy the surprises and wanting to find out what happens next. And as soon as that last page at King's Cross, with them all grown up and their kids embarking on their train ride to that wonderous place I proudly call home as dearly as I do my own abode, I felt a part of my childhood end. I literally felt... older. A big constant in my life had finished, I had no next book to look forward to, nothing else was going to happen, there was nothing more to the story. Like a door was closed and bolted behind me, there was no turning back.
And as I watched the opening to the last movie, I felt that door open just a peek. I felt young again, like there was still something to look forward to, to find out. There was more to the story, even though I knew the ending. I was excited, I was happy, and at the same time I was sad when the HP logo appeared on screen and the legendary 8-notes that summed up a large portion of my childhood played through the cinema speakers. And when it finally ended, I remember staying till the credits, some part of me hoping that something would happen at the end like a teaser for the next film. But I was brought back to a harsh reality when the lights came on and we were ushered out. I felt even older, and I almost felt like crying when it was all over.
But then, one day I heard news of a HP exhibition in Singapore. I had to go, naturally. I met this wonderful Potterhead in school (You know who you are :D) and asked if she'd like to go as well. So I ordered the tickets and when yesterday finally came, well needless to say we were both happy and sad beyond words. When the famous scenes from the movies played on-screen, each a defining moment from both our childhoods, she actually cried a little and I had to do my best not to do the same. And to quote her from her own blog:
I'm home.
The part of my childhood I though gone after the last movie ended, was back again. I wouldn't have traded that wondrous, amazing feeling for the world. All of a sudden, that childish hope that all that magic was real, that Hogwarts was real, that I could have gone there and was going to someday, to be a part of that universe, for that brief hour or so that we were there, it came back again. Think and judge what you will of that, but eighteen or not, I actually felt the cold, hard truth of reality waver and disappear, replaced with that childish hope that someday I'd sit in the Great Hall and be welcomed as part of the Hogwarts family. In that brief montage, I was brought back to age 9, when I first picked up that wonderful book and grew 7 years in about 5 minutes. I'm still half-convinced Errol got lost delivering my acceptance letter... Damn bird...
We had a wonderful time seeing the props and costumes, so when it came to the end, we saw the sign that said "No Re-entry" we immediately turned back to make it last. But alas, all good things must come to an end, and we stepped over that threshold and I know that we both regretted it.
But, as J.K. Rowling said, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." And I regret not a second of watching the movies, not a word of the books I've read and not a second of the wonderful part of my childhood Harry Potter has created.
And to quote this amazing girl that so kindly accompanied me to the exhibition and helped make this wonderful memory all the more wonderful and all the more memorable:
But it doesn't matter how old I get. It doesn't matter if the rest of the world forgets about Harry Potter and the amazing world that J.K. Rowling has shown us. Because I know that this fandom will certainly never forget The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One... Harry Potter.
We raise our wands, until the very end.
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