It’s no castle. There is no any fat lady moving across the pictures in the wall. Nor is there a moaning myrtle in the bathroom. But, Divya Sreedhar’s home comes as a memoir to the Harry Potter movies. There are used up tickets that rest safely inside the cupboard and worn out wallpapers that now appear starched under a low light.
Dressed in a robe and thick glasses, she makes an orchestral move with her home-made wand. It is directed to the golden snitch that rests on a table. Vengardium Leviosa.. she chants. For a brief moment there is anxiety. Will the snitch fly? The next moment, she snaps off her possessed look and explains, “So the wand is a chopstick wrapped in paper. And this..,” she takes the snitch in her hand, “is the mounting ball on the prize that I won from college,” she giggles.
For Divya and her group of friends, the addiction to Harry Potter is an ‘honest, sincere and good liking.’ It is not about following the cult blindly. It is about giving the release of Harry Potter book more importance than one’s own Maths exam or remembering Harry’s bank account number at Gringotts with the same clarity as one remembers one’s own name.
“Last year, on Harry’s birthday , we had a party themed ‘Find the seven horcruxes’,” says the host, Divya. The party pulled in characters from the book and brought them home. So there was Harry with a visible scar and round glasses passing hateful glares at Malfoy, waiting to create a ruckus. And there was the caretaker Filch, a role taken by Divya’s sister, who roamed around carrying their pet cat.
The Harry centric quiz was of the likes which only Hermoine could crack and the treasure hunt was like an eligibility test to triwizard tournament. Like the remnants after a quake, she recalls, there lay a bunch of wands, quills, Harry potter magnets, posters, score cards, along with the pieces of left out chocolate truffle cake that had the words ‘Born as the 7th month dies’ written on it.
But that’s not it. “This is the Tom Riddle’s diary which we hid in our bathroom. Chamber of secrets, you see,” she says with a laugh, flipping the curled up pages of a weary old diary. But hey, where is nagini? Raven Claw’s Diadem, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup…? The thought process snaps as one sees the twilight poster on her bedroom door.
Written below the vampire Robert Pattinson are the words – ‘Oh poor Cedric!’
The article was previously published in The New Indian Express. Check out http://epaper.newindianexpress.com/c/1441595