Mischief Managed

On Thursday, Ben and I waited in line at our local movie theater for the midnight release of the last Harry Potter movie.  I’ve shared before about how much the Harry Potter series means to me.  Sometimes the words come easily and I can articulate how these books have shaped me as a person, rekindling a lost love of reading and writing and sparking my belief in magic (not to mention my hope that the nerdy bookworm girl could find true love).  Other times I have to chalk it up as my nerdiest pleasure, and laugh a little at the fervor which hasn’t really died down since I was 14.

I was not an instant fan of the movies.  The books were my Bible, and they just couldn’t properly translate the adventures and FEELINGS of my friends.  Yes.  The characters were my friends, their stories were my life, and the movies were too warped for me to pay proper attention.  Then, the book series was over.  As I closed Deathly Hallows, numb and wordless, I realized that I would need something more to look forward to.  By the time I started seeing trailers for the 7th movie, I was ready to get excited again.   After seeing the much more grown-up and action packed HP 7 Part 1, I rewatched the series, and last week, I wistfully attended the last Harry Potter release event I will ever have a chance to enjoy.

There have been some differences over the years.  When I saw the first movie, I went with my best friend after school.  We were in tenth grade, drew scars on our foreheads with eyeliner, and had huge crushes on the actor who played Oliver Wood.  When I watched the last movie, my husband and I played Scrabble on his phone while we waited in line, my unborn son kicked and twisted in my belly for a lot of the movie, and I had a huge crush on the Ron/Hermione romance.  I guess everything doesn’t change.  What a relief.

I absolutely cannot wait to read these books to Milo.  I know that there’s no guarantee that a love of Potter is hereditary, but Ben and I have both have fandoms that we’re going to at least try to pass on.   I want to invest in the fabulous Jim Dale audiobooks, and I’m lying if I say I’m not seriously considering a Potter tattoo (something small, glasses or the word “lumos”, and subtle).  In short, the money-making, dress-up events that I have childishly indulged in over the past few years may be over, but now it’s time to settle down and start wearing down the bindings on what will always be my favorite series of all time.  Thank you, Harry.  I wouldn’t be me without you.