First Blog. Cool. First Prompt. Sweet.

This is after Voldemort touched my scar/did something else bad.

Whenever I find myself at the beginning of the Harry Potter series for another go around of magic, I can't help but feel as if the first two books always help bring out my inner child.  Re-reading these books time and time again always brings back the feeling that I, myself, want to go to Hogwarts and learn the ins and outs of the magical world.  I always found myself relating to Harry.  Mostly because people are always trying to kill me.  But really, I did, as generic as that sounds.  Our appearances are incredibly and almost eerily similar, we both tend to doubt our abilities and talents, and we're both smarter than we might let on.  I also have a fat cousin.
When I was younger, I wanted nothing else but to be Harry.  I would create scenarios in my head in which I would find out that I was a wizard and I'd be going off to Hogwarts in days.  I think that I honestly thought it was a possibility.  Now, of course, I still wish that something of the sort could happen, but the cynicism of the real world and growing up has led me to realize that dreams have to be let go at some point.  So when I read the earlier, more childish books of the series now, it helps me reflect on everything I loved as a kid and lets me realize that life is speeding by.  So slowing down to read these books is now a great way to feel like a kid again and shut out the world around me.