User blog comment:JoePlay/Wizarding World Giveaway/@comment-4155465-20110716124326

I distinctly remember one night when I was 6 years old, sitting in my bed with my dad, reading the first book and making him cover the picture of fluffy with his hand, because I was scared of it.

I remember, before the movie came out, talking to my best friend who introduced me to Harry Potter, and she was telling me about the 4th book, and all I can recall is her telling me that “Yeah, avada kedavra is the spell that kills people, and nothing can turn it back.” This was a scary concept for me, and I was intrigued.

After that, my mom and dad decided that I should read the first book before we saw the movie. I only got about halfway through, then we went to see it, but after that, I finished the first book and started on the second one right away.

When we moved, I called my friend. We talked about Harry Potter for hours. I was hooked. I read the books with my parents.

My mom and I read the Prisoner of Azkaban. Every night, we would sit in my parents’ bed and read a chapter.

I remember when the 5th book came out. I was so excited. I put my hair into a billion small braids, then went to sleep. At 11:30, my mom woke me up and we went to Barnes and Noble, me dressed up as Hermione and proud.

When the second movie came out, I re read the book with my dad. I remember our conversation: Me- Dad, I think we need to read it again. I don’t even remember what happens! I don’t think I even remember what petrified is!

I was in 5th grade when the Goblet of Fire movie came out. I had found a group of friends who were just as excited about it as I was. They had all read the books. At school in music, we would play Hedwig’s theme on the hand drums. We counted the hours until we could go to the theater. When midnight came, we sat in a row and squeezed each other’s hands hard when we saw the title come up on the screen. I distinctly remember poking my friend Amy during the Bathroom/Golden egg scene, because she had a huge crush on Dan.

After the Half Blood Prince came out, a local pizza place had “R.I.P. Dumbledore” on its sign. Luckily, I had read the book already, but it was in the newspaper and they were forced to take it down in less than a day.

When the Deathly Hallows came out, I had just finished 7th grade, I believe. I won a contest at school and got a giftcard to Barnes and Noble, and a book reserved under my name. I read the first chapter aloud to my mom in the car. I didn’t understand it was really over until I finished the epilogue. I was sad, but not nearly as much as I am now. There were still movies to come, I told myself.

My parents were always huge fans of the series as well. When the Deathly Hallows came out, my dad begged me to read faster so that he could read it too. Then, my mom took it during the day, and he was forced to read it from about 11-3 AM. I was in camp at the time, and he send me a letter telling me that they had finished. I was so excited for them.

At camp, my friend Ari was reading it. I was appauled that she had taken so long. I am so giddy when she got to the Battle of Hogwarts. I was literally jumping around in our cabin.

When I got to high school, I went to midnight premieres as always, but my love of all things Harry Potter increased quickly as the countdown for the DHp1 movie started. Soon, my tumblr was full of Deathly Hallows symbols, and I had begun humming Hedwig’s Theme at the dinner table.

It was only about 6 months ago that I convinced my now 11 yeah old sister to read the books. I told her to finish te series before DHp1 came out, and she did. She became a hue potterhead after reading the first book, and every time she finished another book, we would watch the movie. She’d stare at the screen, dumbstruck, muttering “I can’t believe they cut that out of the mvie! That was so important!”

After she finished the 5th book, she came up to me crying, saying “Mina, do I have to read the other ones? It’s not worth it without Sirius.” She sat at the dining room table with me for half an hour, head on the tablecloth, crying.

On Thursday, November 15th, after school, I ran to the movie theater and we were in line by 5:00. I had dressed as Ginny that day. My friend Allie and I put up papers in the bathroom, one that had the Deathly Hallows sign, and others that said “The chamber of secrets had been opened. Enemies of the heir - beware.”

I went from theater to theater, drawing scars on everyone’s foreheads and occasionally stopping to duel with my friend who had dressed as Bellatrix.

When my sister turned 11 this year in April, I stained envelopes and papers with tea, and made her two letters. One was a standard Hogwarts acceptance letter, complete with a note apologizing for the fact that it was not sent by owl mail. The other was from Fred Weasley, assuring her that he was, infact, alive, and so was Dobby, and Mad Eye, and Remus and Tonks and pretty much everyone else except for Bellatrix and Voldemort.

I showed her the personalitylab sorting test, and it turns out that she is a Gryffindor, just like me.

Now, I am in Sweden, counting the days (tonight at midnight, it will be 72 hours…) until the movie comes out. I watched the premiere last night, and have never felt so good to be a part of something so important.

People harrass me on Facebook about posting too much about Harry Potter, but, like I’ve told them, IDGAF. Harry Potter is literature. It has merit. I wrote an essay about it for my Psychology class this last spring: about the portrayal of grief and coping.

My Norwegian host sister is coming in two days so that we can watch the movie together.

Harry potter is my childhood. That’s all there is to it. I’ve grown up with it, and it has taught me to be accepting and brave.

(Written 1 week ago)

Mina