“The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it ‘the Riddle House’, even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there.”
Sometimes you can look back at something you’ve done or said and be proud of it. Other times you can realise you’ve been an utter fool. I mention this because I recently found an old, short review I made on Shelfari where I declared Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire my least favourite of the Potter series. I don’t quite know what made me say such a thing as a simple reread as told me that, actually, this is probably my favourite. And I know I said about the last one too, but as evidenced, I’m clearly allowed to change my opinion.
For those of you reading this, but somehow unfamiliar with the plot, I shall extrapolate thusly: Harry Potter, fourteen-year-old wizard, is stuck at the house of his non-magical aunt and uncle, almost starving and desperate to get back to school. Before that happens, he is invited by his best friend Ron and his family to the Quidditch World Cup final between Ireland and Bulgaria.