I was so excited to re-read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It’s my second favorite book in the series simply because it is the first Harry Potter book I’ve ever owned. When I was probably 12, I sent my father to Borders to battle with other parents and procure a copy for me since I was not in the country when it was released. A few days before the release date, I left to visit relatives in Jamaica. My father bought the book and brought it to Jamaica for me. I was elated. Great dad!
As soon as he gave it to me, I started to read it. I read all day and by nightfall, I had finished the book and was upset. I no longer had a Harry Potter book to read. I regretted not dragging out my reading, stretching it so that the book would last for days. But still, it was near impossible to do so since it’s hard to put down a Harry Potter book when you first pick it up.
Such was not the case this time, 13 years later, when I reread Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I had to put the book down many times. Not because I wanted to but because I have matured and now have stupid adult responsibilities (like work and bills and work) that do not allow me the leisure and pleasure of reading all day, even though I was on vacation. The one thing that remained the same is my enjoyment of the story.