I am a person who re-reads. I will read a book over and over again if I love it, whenever I need something familiar and comfortable, when I want to escape into a favorite place or remind myself of something that I think is important and meaningful. The details of these stories become part of the fabric of my own life, they weave themselves in in sometimes unexpected ways. This month, I decided I need to read something magical and transporting and very, very familiar: I picked up Harry Potter again.

I’ve read all seven Harry Potter novels so many times it’s actually a little embarrassing. What can I say? At least I know I’m not alone. Reading Harry Potter has become a certain kind of custom for me, in some ways. I appreciate re-reading these books for so many reasons: for the story, but also for the things it makes me remember, and even for the aesthetic experience of lifting each heavy volume off the shelf smoothing the pages. I even love the fonts, dude. I’m a dork.
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