Feeling Nostalgic

I remember being in first grade, in the library after school. My mom was finishing up work so we could go home, so I was just looking through the shelves. Scooting along on my hands and knees. School libraries always had the shortest shelves.

I remember coming to a book that I recognized and thinking that this was the book my mom and my sister kept talking about. Going on about smelting sticks and a game with brooms. My mom had purposely ordered it for the library so she could read it once it was available. I turned it around in my hands, interested in knowing more.

Not long afterward my mom and I were sitting in the car, waiting for my sister to finish dance class, while I read it aloud with her. She helped me with names I was mispronouncing. I thought one name was like Harmony.

I remember being curled up in my parents’ bed as we read about snitches, bludgers, and quaffles. My dad hearing us and asking, “What are you reading?” He’d be the next to get his hands on it.

I remember my mom finding a British copy of the second book at a used bookstore. Weeks before it was available in the US. We were so excited.

I remember going to a midnight release party for the third book, dressed as my favorite character, holding a homemade wand.

I remember being so excited to see a sneak peak on TV at a scene of the first movie when it was shown on the WB network.

I remember sitting in a movie theater, anxiously waiting for the first film and hearing that distinctive theme as it started.

I remember crying at the first character death, in complete shock at the quickness of it.

I remember seeing the third film over five times in theaters.

I remember that the tears continued with each new book, yet there was a sense of happiness that came with being with those familiar characters.

I remember more midnight releases of the films and books, more excited than tired.

I remember staying up all night to finish the last book. Never putting it down even when some of the deaths were too painful.

I remember going to a Yule Ball hosted by a local movie theater before the second to last film.

I remember camping out overnight for the last film’s premiere in NY.

I remember clutching my best friend’s hand and crying as the WB logo appeared on the screen for the last time in the film series.

I remember these moments because they mean so much to me.

It’s been close to 14 years since I was in that school library, sitting on the floor, looking at that first book.
The memory will stay with me forever.

 

I remember Harry Potter.