A Little Magic Goes a Long Way

This is my first stab at creative nonfiction. My English professor was talking about her dislike for Harry Potter. I wanted to write something about how much it means to me and how it saved my life.

Like every child that grew up reading the Harry Potter series, I dreamt of receiving my acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on my eleventh birthday. After several days sitting motionlessly by my window, waiting for a snow-white owl to deliver my letter, my mother pulled me aside and delivered something entirely unwanted: a harsh reality. Hogwarts was not real and I had to stop believing it was. She explained that she did not want me to be disappointed when I could not get onto the Hogwarts Express with Harry Potter and his friends on the first of September. This news was devastating. For someone like me, who was so deep into the magical world of Harry Potter, this news was worse than learning that the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus were not real. My hero, a boy the same age as me, and the castle where his adventures took place were fictional, so I could never fully experience them, until my high school graduation, that is.

            It may sound childish and trivial to have such a passion for a children’s book, but in reality, the fantasy series was my childhood and saved my life on numerous occasions. Though I promised my mother I would stop obsessing, there was never a day that something Harry Potter related did not enter my mind.  Every page was like falling into a whole new world full of magic, friendship, and happiness. I welcomed the world with open arms as a break from the reality I was living. Even in the darkest moments, there was comfort that everything would eventually be okay. This was a thought that I carried into my own life. On the outside, to my friends and family at least, I seemed like a happy, shy girl. This was true for a while, but as I entered high school I could not help but to feel paralyzing anxiety coursing through my veins. My childhood was free of trauma, so there was not a reason for how I was feeling, but it was there nonetheless. As the days went on, I grew depressed excluded myself from my friends and family. I was a prisoner in my own mind; unable to express myself because of the fear I held within that I would somehow disappoint everyone around me. The only thing that would bring me to a state of normality and break me from my mental prison was diving into one of the seven Harry Potter books. While reading, the dread and worry melted away, leaving me with joy.

            As I went through high school, I continued to feel this way, getting significantly worse around graduation. I was stricken with terror when I came to the realization that I was leaving my friends and comfort zone for an unfamiliar place. For normal people this transition is scary, but for me it was unbearable. I submerged myself in the fantasy I’ve found solitude in when I was not soaking up every other moment with my friends. One day I came home and found something peculiar on my bed. It was a white balloon with an expertly drawn owl on it. Tied to the owl balloon was a brown, tattered envelope. Immediately thinking I had fallen into yet another Harry Potter related dream, I proceeded to pick up the letter with caution, in case the owl decided to spring to life. Two pieces of parchment fell out of the envelope. The first one, the smallest, was unmistakably written in my mother’s writing. It said, “Samantha- the Hogwarts staff send their apologies as this letter is seven years late.” I started to shake with excitement as I began to open the letter. I was so giddy that I accidently tore it as I frantically read the words I’ve waited my whole life for.

Dear Miss Pusateri,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on August 6.

Yours sincerely,

Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall

            Tears welled in my eyes as I continued to soak in every word of the letter. The next page contained flight information for my mother, my best friend, and me. Two weeks from that moment, on August 6^th, we would all be on our way to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park at Universal Studios Florida. I finally going to be able to experience the world I had spent seven years creating in my mind, the world that provided me with an escape from myself. Words could not ever express how I was feeling while reading the letter, so I just cried.

            After two agonizing weeks of waiting, we were so close to the park it hurt. We arrived early in the morning, so we had to wait outside until the park officially opened. In that time, my mind raced with all of the lessons the Harry Potter series taught me. It was okay to be different; my true friends will love me for who I am. Even when I believe in my heart everything is ruined, goodness can rise out of the ashes like a phoenix. Most importantly, every bit of life, even the most insignificant moment, is magical and should be cherished in some respect.

            While my mind was filtering through the vast amount of lessons the series taught me, the gates opened and for a second I did not comprehend what was going on. Then, before either of us could stop ourselves, my friend and I sprinted through Universal to where the Harry Potter section was. Parents shouted at us to slow down as we dashed around three-year-olds gleefully waiting in line for Dr. Seuss rides. We were oblivious of the young boys marveling at the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. We had one thought in our mind: Harry Potter. Little girls showed more restraint when going to see princesses in Disney, than we did as eighteen-year-olds running like our lives depended on it toward the major part of our childhood. After what seemed like a fifty-four mile marathon, we breathlessly reached the gates that welcomed us to Hogsmeade Village, the beginning of the Harry Potter section of the park.

            There, in front of us, sat the Hogwarts Express, billowing white puffy smoke from the top. The conductor stood beside it welcoming guests in an accent that made him sound like he was plucked directly from London. It was then that I realized how life-like the entire park was. By walking over the threshold, I was transported from Orlando, Florida to London, England. I was overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells that, while reading, I could only dream about. Children were giggling as the walked out of Zonko’s Joke Shop with brightly colored magic tricks and toys. Next to the shop was Honeyduke’s Sweet Shop, which from the window I could tell was filled to the brim with candy, cakes, and cookies. As I walked in I was immersed with the deliciously sweet smells of chocolate cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, and fruit pies. The pink walls were covered in columns of multicolored jellybeans and taffy, all with the Honeyduke’s logo. There was a crowd in the center of the room around a display of the most famous Harry Potter candy: the chocolate frog. On top of the display there was a massive replica of the mischievous candy, moving around like it is explained in the book. After buying my weight in candy, I emerged back onto the park’s street to take in the rest of my surrounds. The more I looked around, the more I believed I was in Hogsmeade. The amount of detail was impeccable. The streets were lined with the tall, pointy, crooked buildings that housed all of the different businesses of the village. Snow capped the roofs and sidewalks, adding to the feeling of London.

            The restaurant in the middle of the village, the Three Broomsticks, had the exact façade that was described in the books. The inside was even more impressive. Brooms and other cleaning supplies were zooming around the room like they were controlled by magic. There were shadows of House Elves running around on the second tier. Everything looked worn and dated, as if the restaurant had been in business for hundreds of years. Mouthwatering aromas of food filled the massive room. Rotisserie chicken that was covered in spices was immediately distinguishable from the rest of the food. The menu of delicacies was more extensive than I ever imagined. They had everything from Sheppard’s Pie to the flaky pastry pies called Cornish Pasties. The drink menu was just as impressive. Pumpkin juice, which tasted like liquid pumpkin pie, and Butterbeer were my favorite in the book, and as it turned out, were especially delicious in reality. The smooth cream soda tasting Butterbeer left a white, frothy mustache as I drank it, just as it was constantly said to in the book.

            Everything about the park lived up to the images of Hogsmeade I created in my mind while reading, but the majestic Hogwarts castle was defiantly the most impressive sight I had ever seen. It was a life-sized castle that towered over the rest of the village. Looking as though it were several thousand years old, I was pulled towards it like a magnet. I walked through the maze of a castle by candlelight. Every room was decorated in a style that could only come from the pages of Harry Potter. The rich colors and fabrics of tapestries layered the walls. The portraits that also covered the walls moved and held conversations with each other and the guests that walked through the halls. Everything was beautiful because it held so true to the descriptions in the books. By the end of the tour, I felt as if I had explored the corridors of the real Hogwarts castle.

            The day we spent at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter was quite literally the most magical day of my life. I experienced enchanting magic that I had read thousands of pages about. The minor details of the trip remain a blur, but I will always remember my initial thoughts and the moment I parted with the park. My friend and I sat by the Hogwarts Express, wordlessly letting tears stream down our faces. It seemed as if we were finally leaving our childhood behind and we were not ready to do so. As we were sitting there, the same train conductor that welcomed us to the park came to sit by us. He looked at us for a moment and before saying, “It’s not the end, you know. You still have the books, movies, and this place isn’t ever going anywhere. You can come back and relive the magic and happiness over again, someday maybe even with your own kids. The magic won’t ever be gone and you should carry it with you forever.” He gave us a parting smile and walked away. At that moment I switched from crying tears of sorrow to tears of happiness. For some reason an actor with an immaculate English accent was able to make me realize something no one else had been able to. I did not need to submerge myself in the books to be happy if I carried the lessons and magic with me everywhere I went. As long as I knew that there is a place out there that provides me with the kind of happiness I felt in one day in Orlando, I could let go of the depression and anxiety that plagued me daily. I am not saying that a complete stranger cured me of paralyzing thoughts and feelings that I had, but he certainly prompted me in the right direction.                

            Everyone has something in their lives that has had a profound effect on them. For me, it was the Harry Potter series. It was my savior when I did not think I could turn to anyone else, and unlike many people, I was given the opportunity to experience the fictional setting in real life. Going there and seeing everything I grew up reading gave me the push I needed to transition into the next phase of my life. I gained closure to my childhood, ending that chapter of my life, but the park also showed me that there is real magic in the world. I realized that whether by book, film, or theme park the world of Harry Potter will always be there to welcome me home with open arms and to help me escape when I feel that I need to.    

                     

             

 

                      

Author's Note

What do you think of the flow? What works for the story as a whole? What doesn't? Thank you!

Reviews

[Sujash I. Purna]

as a huge fan of Harry Potter myself, I'm totally mesmerised by the wonderful description of the place you've given....I've read about this theme park in Florida a lot of times but today I got the biggest glimpse ever of this magnificent place...

your introduction was brilliant and I really understand how it feels to slowly realise that Harry Potter is just fiction! But this writing is very positively non-fictional and no mumbo-jumbo! :)

Kudos again! It really made me immerse myself into your narration. Very bright and vivid!

[Rasputin]

This was a purely enchanting read. And I rarely use the word "enchanting". In fact, I don't think I ever have.
I never liked Harry Potter, but that's beside the point (everyone has their own tastes and blah-blah-blah). But I definitely understand the power of fiction when you're going through a s****y time. For me, it was the cartoon Futurama. I was in the middle of an exceptionally s****y time when I turned eighteen. I wont' go into the details; suffice it to say, I watched every episode of Futurama back-to-back at least twice during that period, and it was able to lift me out of the self-fueling engine of negativity and hatred that seemed to be consuming my brain. So I know exactly how it feels to hold something like that in a special place in your heart.
However, an eleven-year-old waiting for an acceptance letter from a fictional school is more than a little unhealthy.

[Forest Green]

Very nice...a worthy entry into the diary of experience that makes you unique among the masses.

Keep trudging on...your life pursuits are worthy of notation.

Nice work...

[hmm]

Wow so very nicely set up and the flow was wonderful. I like it the way it is. I think it is nicely set up, reads great.