Sunday, July 17, 2011

A Magical Childhood...

When the Harry Potter books first came out, I wasn't the slightest bit interested in them. I was six years old and the thought of reading didn't appeal to me. I actually said to myself that I'd probably be the only person out there who wasn't interested in them. Oh how wrong I was...

I was first introduced to Harry Potter and co thanks to my primary school teacher who chose Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone as our book of the month. She read it to us every day and with every page I fell in love with it more and more. So much so that I made my mum take me to Easons (a bookstore) to buy my own. From that day on I was a complete and utter Harry Potter fangirl.

What frightens me to this day is how close I came to being another hater of books. To JK Rowling I'll always be eternally grateful because without Harry Potter, I never would have picked up a book...

I've loved all the books and all the movies except the 6th film as it's not respectful to the book at all. The Burrow wasn't set on fire okay?!!

I remember deliberately reading the 7th book so slowly to make it last longer but inevitably I finished it and I cried so much. I cried for the characters I loved, the characters I grew up with, for all the revealed secrets and for all the death.

But I was happy too. It felt complete. And although I adore Harry Potter and his magical world I will respect JK Rowling so much more if she doesn't write any more books about him somewhere down the line. It's perfect the way it is.

"So whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home"

Love, Hazel

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