I refuse to take on the additional guilt of not having gotten into Harry Potter until I was 35. But I’ll admit that despite the annoying J.K. Rowling vs. Native People scandal (that I doubt you heard anything about, but I followed because I’m Native), I got deeply sucked in last year. It was the depression and disgust surrounding Donald Trump’s election that sent me into a YA fantasy endurance run where I went so far as to purchase an armchair for my round-the-clock bedroom reading. By Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, I was logging onto Pottermore to...