Always

All my friends know how much Harry Potter means to me. For 12 years of my life, the series have been there for me to laugh, cry and agonise over. It was my childhood.

I'm proud to say that I'm a Potterhead and part of the Harry Potter generation and fandom. There really isn't any other fandom as united, in my opinion. We've read the books, watched the movies, held endless discussions about plot points and characters, and I'm happy to say that I've actually made some good friends online because of our shared love for all things Harry Potter.

Yes, I was one of those girls who would pre-order the books (or at least beg her mum to help her pre-order them), watch all the movies in the cinemas and get dirty looks every time she cried out "THAT WASN'T IN THE BOOK!" or "WHY DIDN'T THEY PUT THAT IN THE MOVIE?!??!", stage fake wizard duels with her friends (and end up killing each other by shouting "Avada Kedavra!" at the same time), and pretty much bore everyone half to death by talking nonstop about Harry Potter. I could and would quote characters, and I actually felt proud when someone called me a "Harry Potter geek".

I was one of those girls who impatiently waited for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to come out, at the same time dreading it because dear God, I didn't want the magic to end. I didn't want my childhood to come to a complete stop. I was one of those girls who shut themselves in their room just to sit down and read the book, savour every moment, celebrate Bill and Fleur's wedding, worry for Harry, Ron and Hermione when they broke into Gringotts, fight alongside them at the Battle of Hogwarts, cry for all the lives lost and finally rejoice when Lord Voldemort was finally killed. I was one of those girls who, when watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in the cinema, was sobbing before the movie even started, because I was so happy that I was watching Harry Potter, and yet so heartbroken because I was turning the final page of the book, watching my childhood end before my very eyes. And when I saw Hogwarts in flames during the battle, yeah. I cried again. I couldn't help it - who wouldn't break down, watching their home burn in flames and watching friends die? Who wouldn't feel that pain?

No book has ever captured me so much. No author has woven a spell quite like J.K. Rowling.

I went to the Harry Potter exhibition with a good friend today, at the Arts Science Museum. It was...... Magic. Pure magic. I'll not spoil it for anyone who hasn't gone for the exhibition, but when we walked into the room after starting the tour, and these video clips from the Harry Potter movies played for us... I admit, I cried while watching those video clips. A million thoughts and emotions were rushing through me, and all I could think was:

I'm home.

All of a sudden I was 7 years old again, receiving my very first Harry Potter book to pore over, to lose myself in. All of a sudden I was 7 years old again, dreaming of the day I'd receive my Hogwarts acceptance letter when I finally turned 11. All of a sudden I was 8, 9 and 10 years old again, growing older and still reading Harry Potter, convinced that wizarding folk existed if I only knew how to find them and tell them that I was one of them. All of a sudden I was 11 years old again, telling myself that my owl just got lost on the way, because maybe it didn't know how to find Singapore. All of a sudden.... I realised that I was growing up too fast.

But it doesn't matter how old I get. It doesn't matter if the rest of the world forgets about Harry Potter and the amazing world that J.K. Rowling has shown us. Because I know that this fandom will certainly never forget The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One... Harry Potter.

We raise our wands, until the very end.

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