Let me paint my memories onto this blog through words. I was eight years old and my mom's cousin, Collin, was living in our basement. He was just out of high school and an obvious brain. My mom had been carrying around these books for, maybe weeks, maybe months, and I had no idea what they were. It wasn't until I saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire sitting on her dresser that I took a real interest. To me, it looked like a book about a nerdy witch-girl who was happily living in fantasy world. Yes, I thought Harry Potter was a girl by the cover illustration.
One night, Collin decided he was going to read The Sorcerer's Stone to me. I'm not sure but I'm assuming he read a chapter or so a night. He gave me the most entertaining impersonations of all the characters and I was absolutely enthralled by the story. After he finished, I was obsessed. Eight years old and I was buying Harry Potter sticker books and calendars from my school's scholastic reading log. I was given a wand and between me and my friends we took turns being Hermione or Ginny. I remember wishing on everything that I could be eleven so that I could go to Hogwarts. Don't even get me started on how hyper I was the night I saw the first movie in theaters. Every line they said that I specifically remembered from the book I repeated into my moms ear excitedly and could not stay in my seat. I continued to listen to the next three books on tape whenever I was in the car with my mom. Jim Dale, I thank you. I listened and imagined with my little girl comprehension of what I was being told. Let me not forget to add my addiction to the Sorcerer's Stone video game. I have NEVER cared for video games. It just took me to Hogwarts and I've always been a nerd so I loved it.
Eventually, I read the other three as they were handed to me. My mom bought the fifth book right when it came out years later. After she was finished (probably took her a good hour to read the whole thing), it was my turn. I read the fifth book slowly, but got every detail in. My brother was always one book behind me, and I remember us being absolutely glued to the books on a National Park trip one summer, me to the fifth and him to the fourth. I was still reading it when the sixth book came out. Finally, the seventh was almost on its way to the book store. My mom had it preordered so I didn't have to worry about getting it on time. She read it, then it was my turn. The weekend I read The Deathly Hallows was one of the most memorable of my life. Not only did I have the secrets to the world in my hands, but my extended, fabulous family was about to spend the weekend together in Monroe. My second cousins had just built this fantastic house out there. They have those really sweet winding stairs that lead to a loft right at the top of their house. That is where I finished the book. I remember exactly how I was feeling during my discoveries and at the end of the story. What a feeling.
I have since read the book twice more and am currently reading The Half Blood Prince for my own mind tweaking. What an amazing light this series has brought to my life; it really is one I can't describe.
This post is meant for thanking the people who gave Harry Potter to me: My mom, for providing me with all seven books and a shared passion for Harry Potter, Collin, for taking the time to read the book to me in the first place, Jim Dale, for being the voices before they were given to actors and guiding my strange imagination along, and of course JK Rowling, for existing and writing this series. <3