Sometimes We Outgrow the Spell

For a lot of us, Harry Potter was more than a book. 
It was a world. 
A refuge.

A spark that made us feel like magic might actually be real or at least that we belonged somewhere, wand or not.

Many of us grew up in those pages. 
Found language for bravery, friendship, found family, and the quiet kind of power. 
We built identities around it. We felt seen by it. We got tattoos.

And then came the heartbreak…

J.K. Rowling’s public and persistent anti-trans rhetoric has caused real, ongoing harm to a community that deserves safety, respect, and celebration. Her platform has been used — again and again — to undermine the humanity of trans people.

We can’t un-read the stories that shaped us. 
But we can choose what we support moving forward.

We will not buy or reorder any new copies of the Harry Potter series. 

We’ve made the intentional choice not to funnel more money into a brand that actively causes harm — no matter how beloved the stories once were.

You may still see a few copies on our shelves.


These were inherited in our bookstore buyout, or donated by customers choosing to let them go. We’re keeping them in circulation because for some, revisiting these stories is part of their own processing. And buying used means no additional money goes to the author or publisher.

We’ve had long, honest conversations about this. About what it means to keep these books available, even secondhand. We understand the weight they carry and the harm their author continues to cause.

But we also understand what they once meant to people.

We believe in giving people full information, and then trusting them to choose.

We believe that honoring your own growth sometimes means revisiting where you began and then releasing it, on your own terms.

That’s why we’re continuing to sell copies when they’re donated or left behind — not as an endorsement, but as an acknowledgment of complexity. These books shaped people. We’re not erasing that. We’re offering a bridge.

A way to remember without funding harm. 
A way to let go with intention. 
A way to say, “This mattered. And I’m ready for something else now.”

And if you’re ready for something new, we’ve got a shelf full of stories that center magic and justice, transformation and truth.

Books written by authors who expand the world rather than narrowing it.
Stories that celebrate difference instead of fearing it.
Worlds built with care, not control.

We believe books can change lives.
But people matter more than nostalgia.
And the shelves we build now say something about the world we want to live in.

If you’re holding that tension — loving what Harry Potter meant to you, while grieving what its author has chosen to become — we see you.

You’re not alone.