As I will probably mention a million times, I am a product of the Harry Potter generation. To say that Harry Potter was my childhood would not be an exaggeration. To prove it, here are pictures of my childhood bedroom:
I am telling you about my obsession because I have very exciting news. My roommate just began reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s (Philosopher’s) Stone for the first time. She has no idea what happens. At all. Do you understand how rare that is? She mispronounced Hermione’s name, much like I did when I first read the book twelve years ago, and innocently referred to Voldemort as “You-Know-Who”.
I am beyond excited that my friend is finally reading the series, but I am also sad and jealous. Sad, because it is too late for her childhood to be impacted by Harry Potter. She will never know what it was like to-after so much anticipation-hold a freshly printed Potter book shortly after midnight. I may be an extreme case, but J.K. Rowling completely shaped my life.
I am jealous of her because, unlike me, she can still read a Harry Potter book for the first time. She doesn’t know who lives or dies. She does not yet know that her heart will fall through the veil, off the astronomy tower, and fly off a bridge. Oh, wait. That last one only happened in the film, and is completely irrelevant…
Anyway, if you know how I feel, lend the book to a friend who somehow missed out on a magical childhood. If you happen to be one of these people, it is not too late to join the party. Make all of your Harry Potter friends jealous by mispronouncing Hermione’s name. Tell them that you think Snape is evil. Ask them what a Hufflepuff is(just don’t expect a direct answer).
As a self-proclaimed Harry Potter nerd, I desperately hope future generations, as well as people like my friend, see the magic in J.K. Rowling’s stories. It is up to those who grew up with Harry to pass the story on to common muggles who are oblivious to the magic around them.