If you haven’t yet blocked that one friend who still quotes Dumbledore on Facebook, you will have heard that Harry Potter is making a comeback (also, block that friend). This direct sequel to J.K. Rowling’s original series will be called Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, and it’s a play. This is a smart move, no doubt aiming to target fans who enjoy theater, but don’t like artistic integrity. Mostly joking about that last comment.
Don’t get me wrong; I loved the series when I was younger. The characters were always easy to relate to. Harry and I were quite similar; both of us wore glasses, had jet black hair, and lived in constant fear of being murdered in our sleep. And much like Uncle Vernon, I too keep all my orphans in a cupboard under the stairs.
Despite my love for a series that comprised the majority of my childhood when Dragon Ball Z wasn’t on, the cynic in me is wondering whether we really need a sequel to a well-contained series that ended on a high note. I already followed Harry and his friends through a lifetime of adventures, in book and film. Is the story of the rest of their lives all that fascinating? Should it just live on through fan-fiction? How about instead, completely new characters in the same universe? I don’t know, but then again, I’m just a filthy mudblood.