My Magic {Harry Potter}

Chapter Zero - The Beginning Of The Beginning

I'm smiling at the familiarity of typing words to my old laptop that burns my left hand when I use it for to long and the sound of the large fan, as I listen to music I know far to well that I could nearly sing the song from start to finish without the music. Even so my old story "The Magic" haunting me every word I type, reminding me of the mental drive and anxiety that seemed to follow me for not finishing the books. Feeling as if Ella, my baby, my first creation and my proudest creation, continuing to live in me. As every step I take could be me falling over. Tripping over nothing seems normal now. Yet some how with all her falls, Ella was less flawed than I was. 

The idea had struck me to write about Ella once again though it would be different I would complete it. I will force myself to complete it no matter what, if it is just one book or two. I need this mentally. I know I do. I can feel Ella's hands around my neck as if holding to my word. Making sure that I continue writing on and on, with every word that I stop at her gasp getting tighter. Than loosening when I get into a role of words for a sentence. Though my back problems could be the reason for this more the less I imagine Ella is the source. 

Though I can only imagine me at Hogwarts and the large cost that it would be to even get to The Wizarding World Of Harry Potter - I rather read the books to be honest. Even so my imagination is enough for me. But for me to write another fan fiction of Harry Potter and for it to be located at Hogwarts I would have to open the books that lay on my self that has grown far to much since I became more of a book person. 

While sliding my copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, because I don't own the Soccer's Stone - my grandmother, other wise know to me as Babushka owns that in a large print. I stand there in front of my bookshelf, flicking through the pages once again, like always do before going back to the first page and reading it in all its glorying trying to find the best part to start. But I stop myself to read the first few pages that I always skip to get to the start of the story, yet I have always seen this but never really acknowledged it. 

"for Jessica, who loves stories, 

for Anne, who loved them too, 

and for Di, who heard this one first"

This brings me to smile at this. This could be one of J.K.Rowling's most understated little writing that is in the book, but probably meant the most to her when she first wrote this book. When she finally got to publish it and got to this point in the publishing industry, it probably was the point that she realized that it is truly happening. I can't wait for that moment for me. 

Remembering as I flick through the first pages that made me stop reading it at the age of nine, as I thought at the time that is was dumb and not getting to the point, but when I was sick at the age of twelve and not allowed to have anything that was electronic around me, I fell in love with those same first pages. I grew up. 

As I flick through The Vanishing Glass and The Letters From No One, I breathed out and let a smile rest on my face as I remember those chapters. The shear familiarity of the book making me smile at every turn of the page. I didn't need to read the whole page over again, but to see the few lines that made the chapter to me. Skipping over The Keeper Of Keys, yet loving that chapter because of Hagrid and for how he was. Always picturing him as a giant snugly bear that i could hug all day. 

Chapter Five, Diagon Alley seemed so perfect for a beginning, but the only thing is why would that be the beginning? No. It had to be Chapter Six, The Journey From Platform Nine and Three Quarters. That's where it begins...