Just a Muggle
Since arriving in Chicago, I’ve been making my way (backwards) through the Harry Potter series (again). I love these books. Rowling does a superb job of describing the wizarding world. She might not write the best dialog, but she does paint (er, make that write) a pretty picture.
I love reading these stories because they really allow me to escape. Yes, I know there’s more to HP than just a fantastic story line, but really, I read them for the fantastic story line (English degree be damned!). However, every time I reread this series, I always end up sad. I desperately want wizards and witches to be real. I want there to be a Hogwarts and magic in the world. It’s not that I’m sad because this fantastic world is just make believe. I’m sad because, well, maybe it’s real.
And maybe I’m just a muggle.
Silly! I know! But honestly, what if it’s all true? What if I’m just not magical? *sigh* To think, I may have missed out on Potions and Transfiguration, and yet there might be people out there learning these things at this very moment! Arg! How am I going to deal with my disappointment if, at the age of 11, Jude receives his letter from the Witchcraft and Wizardy school in the states? I mean, I’ll be SO EXCITED for him, but I’ll be so sad for me.
And the truly sad part of all of this, is that I’m serious. Wow.
I would like to be part of the wizarding world too – my house would stay clean and I would have SO much fun playing Quidditch with Hannah and Sarah!