Harry Potter Universe by Rachel M.

I have been obsessed with Harry Potter since the age of six. In first grade I paid a visit to the annual book sale at my school. After looking around for around five minutes, not really understanding anything since I was only six, I picked up a book with a boy riding some eagle-horse thing on the cover. “Hair-ree-Paw-ter,” I sounded out. Thinking it looked good enough for a six year old to read, I brought the book home and that night my dad began to read it to me. I was immediately enthralled. Only when we reached the third chapter, we began to think: it sounds like something has happened already before the book began. We examined the binding and found a little number three written in green. Not wanting to start in the middle of the series, we put down the book. Except I was already so captivated it I didn’t want to put it down, I wanted to get the first and second books as soon as possible. Luckily, Hanukkah was only a week away. Upon opening my gift on the first night, two pristine Harry Potter books magically appeared amongst the wrappings. They seemed to be waiting for me, begging me to read them. I obliged and began the new obsession that would conduct my life.

I craved for each new book to come out, reading and rereading each of them in succession. I honestly can't remember how many times I've read each book, I've lost count. It's definitely probably been over twenty times though, except for the seventh which I think I've read seven times. I connected with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I grew up with them. They were everything I wanted to be. They were brave and selfless, not to mention they could do magic which is one of the coolest things in the world. Outside the books, I was loaded with crazy fears that I never could break away from. I wanted to run from them, leave them behind but they followed me everywhere. With Harry Potter, I could escape into a new reality. A reality filled with a magical school where witches and wizards learned to be better people, and where they weren’t afraid to fight a three headed dog or a snake that could kill you with one look. They lived to fight the most evil wizard in the world. They walked into these situations with their head held high, perfectly aware of what they were getting themselves into. In my fear-filled world, I never would have been able to fly around a Hungarian Horntail trying to collect a golden egg. But in my magical world, I was free of fears, and I faced that Horntail with the bravery of a true Gryffindor.

I can’t imagine a world without Harry Potter. I can’t imagine myself without the second world I grew up in; my second world where I can do what I usually can’t do in my other world limited by fears. I live in two worlds, two realities. If I stopped reading Harry Potter, it would be like a part of me has gone missing, has disappeared. I wouldn’t feel like myself anymore, I would feel lost.

Jenny Sawyer, an author for the Christian Scientist Monitor, wrote that Harry Potter is “no guide in circumstances in which right and wrong are anything less than black and white.” But sometimes things need to be in black and white. Why can’t I enjoy something that’s simple? Does it absolutely have to have a complicated moral? Sometimes not having to think about exactly what the message is helps me enjoy the story more. I can vanish into the Harry Potter world without having to stop and think about what the book wants me to believe is right and wrong. Not everything has to have an intricate life lesson. Sometimes for that six year old in need of a hideout to run away to, all that’s needed is a simple moral attached to a world that can be filled to the brim with new ideas.

Sometimes when I was little and I really didn’t want to leave my Harry Potter world behind, I would try to bring that world into my other world. On walks home from the bus stop I would fashion sticks and twigs I found on the ground into wands. I shaved the bark off them until they looked smooth and new enough to have come straight out of Olivander’s. I swished and flicked them continuously to try to make objects fly, and one time I swear I saw my stuffed animal move. Every night I even wished to go to Hogwarts. My wish sounded something like this: “I wish to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley in their first year when I’m in my first year and go on all their adventures with them, and be best friends with them, and even be written in the books with them.” When I was accepted into Hopkins, I was really excited because I thought I was actually going to Hogwarts. In my defense, “Hopkins” does sound a lot like “Hogwarts” and the first day of school was on September first. Much to my disappointment, however, Hopkins turned out to be a normal school full of Muggles.

Harry Potter has been the best escape for me. This is a world where I’m not afraid of anything. A world where I can fight a mountain troll in the girl’s bathroom. A world where I can drive off one hundred dementors at once. A world where I can duel Voldemort, the most evil wizard to ever have lived, in the middle of a graveyard. A world without which I would surrender to my fears and drown in them. I have turned Harry Potter into an alternate universe for me, where I can recreate myself and I can be whoever I want to be without a care or fear in the world.