Platform 9 3/4.
You know how you always remember what you were doing at the moments the world was shaken? Like...I was watching Phua Chu Kang when the newsflash about 9/11 appeared...and I was woken up by several smses on a weekend morning when MJ finally beat it. Things like that.These events are forever imprinted in the history of humankind. But there are also the more personal historical events called memories. And I remember how Harry Potter entered my life though at that moment I had absolutely no idea it would be a worldwide phenomenon.
My auntie gave me both the Philosopher's Stone (cos we be Brits) and the Chamber of Secrets as presents for some celebratory occasion. Confession: I didn't read them. Every time I began reading the Philosopher's Stone I would get bored by the introduction of the Dursleys and their Dursleyish Muggle way of life. That meant I closed the book before I could be introduced to Dumbledore (he's the first main character to appear in human form). I shudder to imagine my life now if the book (and my mind) remained closed.
So after it collected dust for a few years, I brought the books with me on a family vacation to some place in Malaysia. I have no idea where because it was at least a good 13 years ago. And being young and self-centered, I didn't like leaving the comfort of the hotel room to go places I didn't know and see things I didn't understand. So I curled up in a chair and read. And read. And read. And read. I finished both books in 2 days, no mean feat for a person whose time on earth just managed to hit the double digits.
From then on my imagination was trapped in the wizarding world. I waited breathlessly for the Prisoner of Azkaban to hit the shelves and stayed up all night to finish it the day I got it. With the Prisoner of Azkaban, the rest of the world suddenly put on its jetpack, caught up with the Hogwarts Express and Jo Rowling became a millionaire.
It all just went uphill from there. My mom bought me the Goblet of Fire as a surprise. The Order of the Phoenix surprised me in hospital. I woke up early and waited for the postman to bring the Half-Blood Prince. The Deathly Hallows beat me to it, even in its special limited edition box, and I woke up to it lying on my bedside table. I finished each book on the day I got them (as every other Potterhead has done), not taking my eyes away from the hallowed pages, not wanting the magic to end, not even to partake nourishment. I read while I ate, a bad habit my mom was and still is both aggravated and amused by.
The Dark Ages came when I, not having any friends quite as Potter mad, began to forget about the magic. I lost a few books to friends and to the mysterious place in houses where lost things go when you're SURE they're somewhere in the house but have no idea where. I didn't think of Harry much even with the movies coming out every few *long* years. Probably because all the people I like kept dying, in real life and in the movie. RIP Richard Harris and Sirius Black. Also, the book-to-movie inaccuracies drove me nuts. I went totally cashew over the fact that they didn't have Quidditch matches in any movie besides the first. *grumble*
Now I love the fact that I have my own wand (twelve-and-a-half inches, holly and ebony, griffin feather core). That I could dress as a Ravenclaw student and not look out of place in Hogwarts. That I can write an academic essay on wizarding issues in our world's context and get an A. That I miss Fred and Sirius and Lupin and Tonks and Hedwig as though I've known them my whole life (as I almost have). I love the fact that my life is magical. ϟ
*I just love this picture.
*I just love this picture.
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