Thought I planned out what to write for today, my usual short-term memory kicked in and now my mind is just blank. Maybe filling up my stomach with some food and cozy-ing up were added factors to it. =/

I read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix for the umpteenth time and god I feel like shouting out my love for it to the world. My favourite book from the whole HP series would be the Deathly Hallows, but before that was published, Order of the Phoenix was definitely my favourite. Well, to be honest, Prisoner of Azkaban was my favourite before I understood the world, but I digress. Anyway, I have read Phoenix countless times before; it was to the extent of feeling a bit bored after a while. Typical me though, this behaviour. Overdoing something that I love until I get sick of it.

I tell a lie.

I'm still not sick of the HP series even though I've read the whole lot a bunch of times. Really. For a year, after rereading some of the books after the first time, I breathed and lived HP. I could tell you what happened in what book and who was involved. I could quote funny lines or stupid jokes spouted by the Weasley twins. I could tell you how everything happened by choronology. I could even debate about HP if anyone offered. I was obsessed.

But I grew out of it. Not too much, because I never really grow out of anything. The daily reading I accustomed myself to just wore out on its own and soon other things occupied my mind. I still read some of the HP books when I felt like it but now that I think about it, I never fell into the obsession I had earlier on ever again. A bit pitiful, I think.

But today, today, I actually read The Order of the Phoenix again. And I have to say, it was such an enjoyable day, just because of a book. I've always looked up to J.K. Rowling and how she could conjure up such a wonderful world. How she could keep track of her ideas and plough through with it for 5 years. That was just to plan the whole series. She didn't even start writing yet after the fateful day, when she came up with HP. An incredible feat, I tell you.

Anyway, I wont rave about how extraordinary I think Rowling is and spazz my way to the end of this post. My whole point of this post was to tell you how I spent my day with Harry Potter.

I caught myself reading a phrase or a sentence aloud, every few pages, feeling them roll in my tongue, wanting to taste the intimacy of the words. With every few lines, I grinned like a goofball. Be it because of a funny line or a mediocre joke, a familiar occurence or just my sense of affection tingling; They made my mouth curve into a smile unknowingly. Squeaking with delight at the littlest things and eyes watery when a few sad lines were digested by my mind. Into a few chapters, I was already professing my love for the book and hugging it tightly into my chest. I know it can't feel anything, I know. But I can. And hugging it made me feel happiness, made me feel love.

And yes I speak to myself, what's it to you?

To be able to relive the moments that I savoured so much during my HP years today was such a treat. I felt so gleeful while I read it, knowing what'll happen by the next page but still getting that rush of excitement and familiarity when the events unfold themselves; Having the knowledge of the big picture, the goings of it all, seeing the little details crystal clear. Like a teenager, finding her long lost 'bantal busuk', or an old lady, embracing her past. I felt mischievous. I felt like a child.

And it ends. and I come back. The book is left on the shelf, ceasing to exist physically. But it's always with me, whether I know it or not.