From the beginning - a boy who fell in love with a world that did not exist...
by Anand Subramaniam
(Wembley, London, UK)
When I was 6 it began for me. There I was just about started school when my mum goes out and buys a copy of Philosopher's Stone. She read me pages from it every night for 2 months til she got tired of reading it.
I decided that the story was too interesting to give up. I picked up the my first novel ever and read it completely at the age of 6. My first real book. My prized possesion, my portal to another world of fantasy and magic. I completed the book within the week, barely let it down to let the pages rest on top of each other.
I still remember the very moment when my heart leapt out of my chest when I found out that Professor Quirrell was the one who so badly wanted Harry's blood. Wow. My mind was blown away by the story. JK Rowling is not an author, I thought. She was a magician. Only a magician could coujure such a spell which would immerse you into a book so much.
And then came the sequels. Ohh, the joy! Everywhere I went I would take a Harry Potter book with me, even if it was to go out of London for the day. I would always have a copy. Without Harry Potter, the world would not be the same. Now that I look back at the now old, aged yellow pages of my collection, I think of the journey that I walked on with Harry and his friends. 12 years later since I picked up my first real book, I feel sorrowful that it is over too soon.
My childhood was so strongly based on this world that Rowling had created. So I would like to say "Thank you" Ms Rowling, for without her, we would never have had the magical, wonderous world of Harry Potter... :)
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