Magic Time, in Muggle Land

Two pages down and I had only one word to describe the book. Yummy. Within minutes, I had returned to Privet Drive. I was lying with Harry in the flower bed, hidden by a large hydrangea bush, below the living room window, listening to the news. Like Harry, I was waiting. Just waiting for something to happen. An indication. However tiny. That Voldemort was indeed back.

Rowling had done it again. She weaved a charm, which pulled me into Harry8217;s world 8212; dangerous, scary, unpredictable.

Just like Harry, I still had nightmares about the graveyard. When I, just like Harry, had to watch Cedric die. Where I watched with unspoken horror, as Voldemort regained his human form.

This was classic Rowling. Just that this time, she had merged the world of the Muggles into that of Magic.

By the time I reached chapter three, I was already out of breath. I shut the book for just a second. The golden-red Phoenix on the cover gleamed. For a minute, it looked as if it was smiling at me.

My second was up. And I was back. The pages kept turning. And when I next looked up, the rain had stopped, the sun was shining. But I was in a dark world. I felt like crying.

Life had not been easy for Harry and his friends. It just wasn8217;t fair. But the book pulled me to it again. I had to go on. Because I had to know what would happen.

I had many places to visit. For the first time, I walked through the massive hall of the Ministry of Magic, awestruck. My pitstop at St Mungo8217;s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was just as fascinating.

The pages soon became chapters. I was already halfway through the book. I had felt an amazing range of emotions and feelings. Now I was scared. If I felt so strongly about the book already, would I be able to bear that unexpected twist, which I8217;d been dreading for so long.

The death of a character. When Cedric died in The Goblet of Fire, I felt bad. He was, after all, a likeable chap. And no one deserved to die like that.

But this time around I was scared. A premonition, you could say. I waited for that chapter even as all hell broke loose at Hogwarts. Things were happening, bad things. And Harry was suffering because of them.

The day kept getting gloomier. But then there were bits where the sun suddenly shone bright. There was hope. I laughed and chuckled. Read out bits aloud, simply because the words were so beautiful.

But then as the number of chapters still to go kept getting smaller, the feeling became more pronounced. The time for a confrontation had come. So did the chapter I had been dreaded.

When that dreadful thing happened, I couldn8217;t bear it. I cried. I stamped my feet. I threw a tantrum. But there it was, in black and white. It couldn8217;t be. But it was.

My friend told me a story 8212; I still felt upset, but it made me feel slightly better. After Rowling had killed off one my favourite characters, she had cried her heart out. And when she was asked why, she just said that the character had to be killed. It was essential to the plot.

It is true. As I shut the book, I realised that Harry had grown. He had changed. And I had changed with him. When Book Six is released, I know I will be stronger. Just like Harry. Ready to face Voldemort. It is time to deal with him.