It's been a Harry Potter winter for me and my friends, as we dedicated seven dark evenings to rewatching the films over wine and snacks (and once, memorably, cheese fondue). Say what you want about the wizard boy, he makes for great entertainment. On film as well as in the books.
Some deep reflection, too. And emotions (unless that was just the wine). I can't get into the Potter world without feeling the longing for a great cause and the aching need for love.
Now I'm reading Harry Potter and the Cursed Child for the first time. It's a script for a play and so only gives you the bare dialogue and a few stage directions. And yet, I feel deep emotions welling up in me again. Different ones, this time: the cold loneliness of being different and not understood, the anger and the need to rebel just to be seen for who you are.
I think I'm back to being a teenager.
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