The Magic of Harry Potter

1195 Words3 Pages

The moment I flipped to a page, the sights and sounds of the chapter overwhelmed me. I gazed in awe from the stands as athletes soared through the air on broomsticks, and I dared not turn my eyes away from the regal hippogriff strutting about its corral. The scent of musty, leather-bound books in the library drifted into my nose, and I took gulps of the fresh Scottish air, smiling when I caught a whiff of the evening’s supper being prepared in the kitchens. If I concentrated, I could identify every flavor of Bertie Bott’s jellybeans, while the foul taste of polyjuice potion never failed to make me crinkle my nose in disgust. As I meandered down the winding street of Diagon Alley, I listened to the hustle and bustle of people purchasing cloaks and meeting for butterbeer; in the eerie Forbidden Forest, I strained my ears to notice any sign of a dangerous creature, from the dark lord himself to centaurs and friendly giants named Grawp. I grasped the golden snitch to win the game for my house, and I stroked my bunkmate’s cat whilst trying hopelessly to transfigure it into a goblet. I laughed with the red-haired Gryffindor king, practiced spells with the brightest witch of her age, and battled beside the boy who lived. Outside of the story, I was an ordinary human, or as I came to call it, a muggle. However, once I stepped inside the vibrant, fantastical world created by J.K. Rowling, I became a wizard. The best book I read as a child may not be singular- rather, it is a series of seven- but the tale it weaves is one of a kind. It captivated me from start to finish as I plowed through the novels in just one year. It inspired me to continue reading, and it paved the way for my love of the written word. It became my one true love, encomp...

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...d while reading was that books hold a certain magic within them; not just fantasies, but realistic fiction, historical fiction, and even my least favorite genre, nonfiction, possess this quality as well. Whatever the mystery trait may be, it is clear that Harry Potter exudes it in a way like no other. It is for this reason that I smile so broadly when I hold the old, tattered books in my hand; it is for this reason I am eager to turn back to the first page, forgetting how many times I have read the words before. Harry Potter is, and will forever be, the origin, my favorite, and most definitely the best series I have ever had the pleasure to experience. As I find myself at number four, Privet Drive, peering into the cupboard under the stairs for the umpteenth time, I find myself filled with joy. Hogwarts is Harry’s home, and J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series is mine.

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