It's silly, really, to care so much about an arbitrary date in an imaginary universe. It is only a story, of course.
But maybe not. After all: fiction is hardly the same as not real.
Harry's story meant a lot to me as I grew up. In many ways, it defined large parts of who I am today. The books, after all, matured alongside me. As so many have noted, Harry and his friends grew up in tandem with their audience. Harry's trials were my trials. Not the werewolves and the Dementors, but the crushes and the insecurities. The loneliness, the fear of a confusing world. These I could relate to. Harry's story was my Hogwarts, a place I could always retreat to and feel welcome.
Harry's adventures were my escape and my inspiration, an example of what the fantasy genre does at its best. Not only did the books inspire a lifelong love of reading stories, they helped me define how I came to understand my world. By holding a mirror up to our world, the story showed me the insidious malaises of celebrity worship, mob mentality, and economic, racial, and gender inequality.
Harry helped make me empathetic for the world. In the Luna Lovegood I saw my quirky school peers, and wondered who might need a hand in friendship; in Sirius Black, I saw the father figures in my life, and wondered if perhaps the bad guys aren't always the bad guys. After reading Chamber of Secrets, I remember wondering who the "mudbloods" of my world were, and how I could avoid being complicit in such awfully hateful attitudes. These are just a few examples, though I could easily fill a book with ways the books inspired me to an awareness of and a genuine desire to fight cruelty and injustice.
These desires did not evolve solely out of Harry Potter of course. The series was merely one of numerous forces that shaped the person I've become (a mother who predisposed me to empathy, the crippling loneliness and insecurity of the introverted, to name a few more), but I always felt a special kinship with Harry that filled a hole in my soul where nothing else could. This, perhaps, is why the books transcend the medium of mere literature in my mind. Harry Potter represents the first time I found a book and my connection to its world truly magical. Since then, I've found hundreds of worlds such as this, hundreds of characters that feel truly real to me. But Harry was the first. And the first is always special.
Of course, Harry was never my favourite character in the series. Oh no, far from it. Harry was always flawed, frustrating, and often foolish. But he always had good intentions. And don't we all succumb to our flaws sometime? You see, I am not, and never have been, the favourite character in my own story. Yet Harry gave me hope that perhaps I could still bring some good into the world. Perhaps one day I might even become the favourite character in someone else's story.
Harry's story is not for everyone, and many of those who came late to the series have not connected with the stories as I have. In this way, the series' popularity has perhaps been to its detriment. I would no longer consider myself a "potterhead" (a term I have always resisted, much as continue to resist the asinine "Whovian" label). I no longer reread with the same avid obsession. Yet I still pick up my worn hardcovers every now and then, and revisit a part of myself that will never leave me.
For those who understand I need say no more.
All is well.
September 1st, 2017
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