It wasn’t always this way, you know. My sister started reading the series when Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone came out in the U.S. in 1997. My family and I were thrilled because it was the first time she had experienced the intense joy of a good book on her own, holed up in her bedroom until she had finished it cover to cover. When she eventually emerged and exclaimed, “You HAVE to read this!”
I scoffed at her.
Pretty sweet shirts, I know.