I've been a huge Harry Potter geek since I was really small. I think I was seven or eight when my mother read the first book to me, and I was absolutely hooked by the second chapter. I was so enthralled with the wonder and how easily I could believe; when an owl didn't come on my 11th birthday I think I cried for three hours. I waited, secretly, until I was 13, believing that Hogwarts didn't find my magical abilities because I was all the way in Alaska. I nearly convinced myself that JK Rowling had gone to Hogwarts herself.
I've always craved such a magical and fantastic existence.
I grew with the characters. They were dear friends, hated enemies, professors I felt much too fondly of. Their triumphs were my triumphs, their downfalls floored me. I celebrated and wept with them... and then the books were over.
A week before the 7th book came out, my two best friends and I went to get our first tattoos. Mine was a golden snitch tattoo, and I have not and will not ever regret it. Harry Potter is a dear friend, and I will miss him so much after the final movie.
But I'll still dress up like a Ravenclaw whenever I damn well please.
(Photos are by the amazing Al, who is uber talented and makes me look way prettier than I am. I didn't do 2 pictures as one of this post because these photos are too awesome to be resized that tiny.)