I was six when I discovered him. He was hiding inside the closet, on a bookshelf in the spare bedroom, sandwiched between two dark blue paper covers. I couldn't understand much of his story, what he was trying to tell me. But I held on. It would be romantic to think that I never gave up trying to know him because it was meant to be...but it was probably because I was a stubborn girl and I kept trying to read, even what I didn't understand.
I was seven when I actually fell in love with him, which is strange considering that a lot of things in his life came in sevens, and so did I.
He was eleven at that time, with black hair and wide, curious eyes, and that strange mark on his forehead we never understood...He lived with his family and remained unloved until a certain giant barged into the little house upon the rock and presented the little boy his birthday cake, and handed him a life-changing, fate-altering...envelope. (The envelope which I'm still waiting for...I mean come on, I can't be a muggle!) The envelope which took him to Diagon Alley and to King's Cross, which took him to his destiny.
That envelope must have been pretty proud of itself.
Destiny, in other words, means Hogwarts.....the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's where he met Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Seamus and Dean and Snape and Draco and the-one-we-must-not-forget, Mrs. Norris the cat. Oh, and Voldemort too. Who tried to kill him like once, or twice, or a gazillion times. Voldy sure liked killing.
My love managed himself through all that. He managed himself through fights and betrayals and deaths and hormonal changes of adolescence. He grew into a brave, selfless man, a man the world loved.
That I loved.
By now you must have guessed my first love: Harry Potter.
Come on folks, come get to know him, come meet him, grow up with him, and love him, just like I do, just like I did, just like I always will...
I was seven when I actually fell in love with him, which is strange considering that a lot of things in his life came in sevens, and so did I.
He was eleven at that time, with black hair and wide, curious eyes, and that strange mark on his forehead we never understood...He lived with his family and remained unloved until a certain giant barged into the little house upon the rock and presented the little boy his birthday cake, and handed him a life-changing, fate-altering...envelope. (The envelope which I'm still waiting for...I mean come on, I can't be a muggle!) The envelope which took him to Diagon Alley and to King's Cross, which took him to his destiny.
That envelope must have been pretty proud of itself.
Destiny, in other words, means Hogwarts.....the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's where he met Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Seamus and Dean and Snape and Draco and the-one-we-must-not-forget, Mrs. Norris the cat. Oh, and Voldemort too. Who tried to kill him like once, or twice, or a gazillion times. Voldy sure liked killing.
My love managed himself through all that. He managed himself through fights and betrayals and deaths and hormonal changes of adolescence. He grew into a brave, selfless man, a man the world loved.
That I loved.
By now you must have guessed my first love: Harry Potter.
Come on folks, come get to know him, come meet him, grow up with him, and love him, just like I do, just like I did, just like I always will...
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