The memory is clear as day: the arrival of relatives from the U.S. meant imported goods (chocolates, clothes) from a balikbayan box but this, this time, was no usual clamoring. My Lola, who used to travel back and forth between the Philippines and her adopted home country would always come home to see the rest of her kids (my mom) and grandkids (us).
My sister Mel and I dressed up hurriedly, waiting patiently at my grandmother’s house for her arrival. Our excitement was tripled that day because she was not only 1) coming home 2) with pasalubong but because she was also the 3) bearer of more important packages.
After the tears-eyed embraces, after bellies have been filled with home-cooked meals, all of us would gather in the living room, the balikbayan box the center of everyone’s attention. After boxes of chocolates, more clothes, more socks and canned goods were handed out, she reached to the bottom of the box and pulled out the heaviest parcel and handed them to Mel and I.
We tore the brown packaging immediately. I ran my hand over the book’s cover, the grooves easy on my fingers. Right at the moment, my sister and I were the happiest, newest owners of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series.
I’ve been a fan ever since and played my due diligence of Potter mania: watched the movies, bought Harry Potter-ish (quill) pens and (parchment) notebooks, wished I could be a wizard as well, got sorted into the Gryffindor house at Pottermore.
To add to a lifelong affinity of HP, Mel and I planned to attend the midnight book release of the final book of the series, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child in our local bookstore. As that evening wore on, I had mixed feelings of excitement and nervousness, remembering the first time I ever laid hands on an HP book. But I was also tired and midnight is way past my bedtime.
We didn’t even up going (my sister was also tired and too sleepy for HP) but she went ahead and got the books the next day. She spent three hours that day reading the entire book, constantly sending me updates and near-spoilers. It wasn’t until after about three weeks that I finally sat down to read the final book of the series, which took me about a few days worth of night-time reading.
The script format takes a while to get used to, but it eases you in right away. Since the last book is fantastically also a play out in London at the moment, it makes sense. The play runs until December 2017 and from the looks of it, every night is already sold out.
But back to the book: Albus Severus Potter, the middle child (out of three) of Harry and Ginny (Weasley) takes center stage along with Draco Malfoy’s son, Scorpius. Yes, you read that right. Continue reading “19 Years Later: Harry Potter & I”