(no subject)
A Magical Relationship
The most influential person in my life is indeed a boy, I have never met him, and I never will. He lives with his aunt, uncle and cousin in Surrey, England, and attends a rather unknown school. His name is Harry, Harry Potter.
Harry entered my life when I was a mere seven years old, and he was eleven already. When Harry left home to go to his fantastic school, I begged and pleaded for him to take me with him, even though I knew in my head that it was impossible, as I am only a common Muggle. Hearing about the extravagant sorting ceremony only increased my jealousy immensely. I thought to myself, why should Harry be allowed to study magic and not me? This is the one question I have been asking myself for ten years, and have only just now found an answer to: Harry is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to ensure the safety of not only the secret magical world in which he lives, but also that of those oblivious to its existence. I now realize that I do not have the bravery to do the things that Harry has done, I do not have the courage to look death in the face and to only be afraid of fear itself. For that, Harry has gained my everlasting admiration.
Harry has not only faced death countless times and won; he has overcome real non-magical personal struggles, too. Losing ones parents at barely a year old is something that no one should ever have to live with, but he did. Harry never knew the true meaning of ‘home’ while he lived with his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. It was not until he arrived at Hogwarts that he discovered that a home is not only the place where you lay your head at night, it is the place you feel the most comfort, security, and love, none of which he ever felt at Number 4 Privet Drive. So many of us take home for granted, not knowing or caring that there are people without a place that can truly be called their home.
Over the past ten years, I have frantically turned the pages in awe as Harry conquered He Who Must Not Be Named, mastered the game of Quidditch, and fell in love. I can only hope that one day I may be able to muster up the bravery that Harry has shown to have the privilege of calling himself a Gryffindor, and to know the true meaning of what makes a family… and maybe one day I’ll get lucky and fall in love with a wizard, and then I’ll finally be allowed to witness first hand the magical world in which Harry lives.
The most influential person in my life is indeed a boy, I have never met him, and I never will. He lives with his aunt, uncle and cousin in Surrey, England, and attends a rather unknown school. His name is Harry, Harry Potter.
Harry entered my life when I was a mere seven years old, and he was eleven already. When Harry left home to go to his fantastic school, I begged and pleaded for him to take me with him, even though I knew in my head that it was impossible, as I am only a common Muggle. Hearing about the extravagant sorting ceremony only increased my jealousy immensely. I thought to myself, why should Harry be allowed to study magic and not me? This is the one question I have been asking myself for ten years, and have only just now found an answer to: Harry is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to ensure the safety of not only the secret magical world in which he lives, but also that of those oblivious to its existence. I now realize that I do not have the bravery to do the things that Harry has done, I do not have the courage to look death in the face and to only be afraid of fear itself. For that, Harry has gained my everlasting admiration.
Harry has not only faced death countless times and won; he has overcome real non-magical personal struggles, too. Losing ones parents at barely a year old is something that no one should ever have to live with, but he did. Harry never knew the true meaning of ‘home’ while he lived with his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. It was not until he arrived at Hogwarts that he discovered that a home is not only the place where you lay your head at night, it is the place you feel the most comfort, security, and love, none of which he ever felt at Number 4 Privet Drive. So many of us take home for granted, not knowing or caring that there are people without a place that can truly be called their home.
Over the past ten years, I have frantically turned the pages in awe as Harry conquered He Who Must Not Be Named, mastered the game of Quidditch, and fell in love. I can only hope that one day I may be able to muster up the bravery that Harry has shown to have the privilege of calling himself a Gryffindor, and to know the true meaning of what makes a family… and maybe one day I’ll get lucky and fall in love with a wizard, and then I’ll finally be allowed to witness first hand the magical world in which Harry lives.