How Harry Potter Went Out With A Fizz(l)ing Whizbee
In 1999 I graduated from elementary school, and spent the following summer dreading my upcoming year in 6th grade. Two years previously I had moved from North Dakota, land of praries and bison, to North Carolina, and it was as if I were in another world. I had changed much over those two years, morphing from the class clown to the reserved, shy Norwegian I am today, and was not looking forward to middle school in the slightest. I had heard many tales about how much more difficult school would be, and was wary of the change to moving classrooms when switching subjects. I remained afraid, right up until my birthday in July, when my grandmother gave me a book called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Read More…