When it comes to the time of Christmas, I always think of Harry Potter: sometimes, I imagine what the Christmas atmosphere would be like at Hogwarts. Owls swooping in and out of the castle, covered in specks of snow- dark winter nights curled up by the fire in the common room, and sipping butterbeer in The Three Broomsticks. These thoughts always bring me to the time of when I first discovered that magical world: hidden in these gems of books.
It was well over five years ago: I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was snowing so heavily; everywhere was covered in beautiful white- the snow so new it had no footprints in it at all. My school decided to close early, as it was expected to be very thick snow. Both of my parents had finished work early too, and came to collect me: we then all embarked on the walk back home. I remember staring in awe at the breathtaking woods: everything seemed so still, and magical.
Eventually back home, with the fire roaring and a hot chocolate in hand- I finally picked up Harry Potter and The Philosophers Stone. Curling up on that winter afternoon, I opened the the first page.
Little did I know that first page would change my life.
It allowed me into a portal of imagination I never knew existed.