It’s September 1st, but since I missed the Hogwarts Express again, I decided to make my way back to Hogwarts via other means. (No, not a flying Ford Anglia.) I haven’t read the books since I binged the first six to prepare for the release Deathly Hallows.
Though the books have been out for 20 years now, I didn’t start reading them until Goblet of Fire was already out and I got the first four books for Christmas. I was already a sophomore in high school then, so saying that these books were a part of my childhood is a bit of a stretch. That being said, I devoured them all and settled in for the long wait for Order of the Phoenix with everyone else, and read the last five books the night they came out to avoid spoilers.
On the other hand, there is no doubt that these books have impacted my life. I spent the last five years playing quidditch, after all. While sport is currently trying to find its identity without the baggage of its fictional counterpart, Harry Potter is what brought me to it and I will never pretend otherwise. I became a beater because I wanted to be a Weasley twin, not because I felt any special attachment to dodgeballs instead of volleyballs.
It’s been over eleven years now since I’ve returned to these books. Is Hogwarts still home? Or am I clinging to these stories out of a sense of nostalgia? I won’t know until I read them again, so let’s find out.