The most important book to me, completely beyond any other, is Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. I know most people would assume it would be the first Harry Potter book, but I honestly have no recollection of hearing my parents read that one aloud to me. What I do remember, though, is sitting down with my siblings on the floor in front of the living room couch, on the rough carpeted floor, all cuddled together, warm bodies pushed up against each other, my head in Danielle’s lap, Luke hugging my tiny torso from behind. I can still hear my dad pronounce all the names different every single time, much to our dismay (have you seen that scene in A Very Potter Musical where they try to pronounce Hermione? Just like that.) I hear right now, in my head, his rough Hagrid voice lower than any other I’d ever heard, rasping and frightening, yet somehow comforting. I can see the way he would get up and hulk around the room, to the soundtrack of high and childish giggles and a disgruntled quiet meow of my little black and white kitten who was trying to sleep. The sound of Hermione berating her friends for sneaking around the castle, in a high trilling voice, almost painful to human ears, making our little eyes squint and our childish hands cover our ears. I can feel the tears dripping down my face out of pure fear of Harry, my hero, dying. I remember exactly how it felt to have a hate/love relationship with Draco, because he was a little brat (just like me) but an interesting character above all others. More than anything else, there is a strong memory of contentedness and warmth, cookies and cuddling with our cat on my lap and my siblings by my side. And while my family has changed and my cats have all gone, that feeling is still with me when I have Harry Potter in my hands.
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I remember when I was a kid my mom used to sit in my room before bed and read me the Harry Potter books. I loved them so much, I remember how I loved Harry and Ron and always dreaded the end of the book when you knew Voldemort was going to appear. The third book was actually my favorite, probably because Voldemort never made a real appearance. I remember after my mother read the fourth one I had to wait for the fifth one to come out, but once it did I wouldn't let her read it to me. Cedric's death scared me for life. He was my favorite. After the seventh one came out I decided to read them on my own and i'm glad I did. They are such amazing books and I have always loved listening to them as a kid.
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