Musings about Harry Potter & Parenting

It's a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. ~J.K. Rowling, "The Hungarian Horntail," Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, 2000

Last night James, Seamus and I got to attend a special preview of the final Harry Potter movie. As we were going to bed, I said off handedly to James that I thought I'd remember this night for the rest of my life and he said "Really? The movie or just the Harry Potter books?" And a bit of clarity washed over me, I was both looking forward to and dreading this last installment of the movie series.

Nearly 4 years ago, I began reading Harry Potter to Seamus. We had read other chapter books, The Wizard of Oz, Because of Winn Dixie, Black Beauty etc, but something magical happened when we met Harry. I discovered Seamus could sit for hours listening to me read. It provided for long, quiet afternoons while Finn and MJ slept, and we dropped (as if almost into a pensieve) into a compelling, wonderful story about a boy, his friendships and his quest to discover what matters most in this life. Seamus had an uncanny ability to understand the sadness and precariousness of Harry position, he tracked incredibly complicated aspects of the story and we talked often about the trouble Harry was finding himself facing. At this point, the kids were younger, I was getting less sleep, parenting had become challenging and the gift of this quiet, escapism in the afternoon was a special present to me. I think I'm starting to understand that Harry helped me get through the toddler years with 3 kids under 4.

God gives us each of our kids for a reason. Seamus's clear understandings of complex situations at such a young age showed me that my words, my choices, my example mattered already. If Seamus could see the complexity of right and wrong vs difficult and easy in a fantasy world, well, then he certainly would understand and absorb the complexity of the choices we were making in the real world. Seamus was unusual for his age, I understand that now, but I think that I am a better parent because of this unique time together.

And so we finished the series together several times, rereading favorite books as many as 4 times. We slowly saw all the movies (Dobbie was the only movie character to be scary to Seamus - I've always thought that was funny). The few times we saw a movie in the theater, Seamus couldn't help himself but to say loudly when the movie deviated from the book "Well, that's not how it happened!" The movies were incredibly well done, even if they had to leave big portions out or reimagine the story, and Harry Potter movie nights became one of my favorite family times too.

We've been looking forward to seeing this last movie, I think we knew that it would be great. But it happens to coincide with Seamus developing the ability to read the books entirely on his own now. Seemingly overnight, his reading has taken off. He's already onto the third book and he'll now spend hours in the hammock, in his bunkbed or even on the beach reading, reading, reading. He still loves Harry, but he's moved on to new and different stories too. Everything about this is wonderful. Yet I hate to admit I am still a little sad that this precious part of our relationship is evolving.

There is something kindred about the magic in Harry Potter. For us, Seamus, we discovered that words too can be magic, teleporting us to far away places we couldn't expect, transfiguring our sense of identity, illuminating what it is we want the most. When we began this story you were a small boy and I was a woman anxiously trying to figure out how to be a good mother. Last night holding hands in the parking lot after the rush of the movie was over, I could see you for the wonderful person you've become - smart, thoughtful, loyal and kind. Much like another boy you and I so enjoy. It makes me feel tender and proud. I think we've done alright with our magic so far.

Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real? ~J.K. Rowling, "King's Cross," Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 2007, spoken by the character Albus Dumbledore