The world of Harry Potter is one of the most beloved franchises across several generations. The seven books covering the captivating story of young wizards, in total, sold more than 450 million copies, and the movies grossed more than $7 billion. A part of such great success has been the detailed work of all people involved which we, as fans, can admire infinitely.
We at Now I’ve Seen Everything wanted to dive deep into this magical universe and brought you our curious finds.
1. One might think that Aunt Petunia is cooking in this scene. But she is actually dyeing Dudley’s old clothes grey for Harry’s uniform. This is only ever mentioned in the first book.
2. Number 7 on Harry’s Quidditch uniform
- Actually, the number 7 is a symbolic number in the world of JK Rowling. Moreover, Lord Voldemort has 7 Horcruxes and the last one, as we know, was Harry, which is quite symbolic too. However, the costume designer noted that the choice of this number for the Quidditch uniform is a reference to David Beckham, who played under this number a while back.
3. In the third movie, when Hermione appeared in class out of nowhere, we can actually see her time turner around her neck, which she hides in the next shot.
4. The scarves of Hermione, Ron, and Harry
- The costume designers decided to hint at the character of each person with the help of tiny detail — a scarf. If you’re paying attention, you know that each character ties it in their own way. Hermione tightens it as neatly as possible, according to the rules. Harry throws the end of the scarf over his shoulder. Ron doesn’t tie this accessory at all.
5. Although it may have gone unnoticed amidst all the chaos, in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 we get to see a reunion between Hermione and Viktor Krum.
6. As the story progresses and Harry and his friends begin to destroy the Horcruxes, you can see how Voldemort’s clothes become discolored, his eyes droop, and small lesions appear on his skin as a sign that he is getting weaker.
7. The changing costumes of Dolores Umbridge
- In the image of Dolores, it was important to outline that she has power. We see that she, like many other powerful people, is rather conservative. For example, she wears the same hairdo and sticks to the same colors. Umbridge adores the color pink but its hues change as the plot develops.
- The costume designer commented on it in the following way, “I started with a lighter pink, and then as the film developed the pinks get hotter and hotter and hotter because she’s getting more and more hysterical.”
8. Harry’s scar
In the final shot of the film, Harry’s scar is noticeably faded and barely visible. It’s the reference to the last line of the novel series, “The scar had not pained Harry for 19 years. All was well.”
9. Ralph Fiennes (Lord Voldemort) asked for a hook to be added to Voldemort’s wand so that he could move more fluidly and “snake-like” without the wand falling from his hand.
10. In the last movie, Lucius Malfoy is seen sporting a new tattoo on his neck. This is the prisoner number he was given when he entered Azkaban.
11. Gilderoy Lockhart’s wig
- In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, attentive viewers can notice that the professor of Defence against the Dark Arts, has a wig lying on his table. As we will later learn, Lockhart is a liar, who was cheating everyone and hadn’t done any feats. That is, he lies about everything and even his golden curls are fake.
12. Professor McGonagall has a secret talent.
- The Quidditch trophy from Harry Potter and the Sorcerers’ Stone not only features James Potter, Harry’s father but Professor McGonagall as well. Who would have guessed she was such a great player.
13. Hermione’s valuables.
- When Lockhart unleashes the pixies, Hermione immediately throws her books to the ground while no one else does because she knows the pixies will rip anything in plain sight apart.
14. Severus Snape and Gryffindor’s scarf
- Severus Snape is one of the most controversial characters. It’s not without reason that we see a striped scarf from Gryffindor hanging on the wall in the scene where he is killed. Perhaps he personifies the true inclination of Severus, and in due time he should have gone to Gryffindor, not to Slytherin.
- In the book, Dumbledore once says the following phrase relating to the distribution of students by faculty, “Sometimes I believe we sort too soon.” Perhaps, the professor was right. Perhaps, the scarf hanging in the closet is saying that people can change for the better.
15. As strange as it may seem, in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, a portrait of Voldemort can be seen on the side of the staircase.
What details in Harry Potter did you manage to notice only after re-watching or re-reading each one?
Preview photo credit Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets / Warner Bros. Pictures, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 / Warner Bros. Pictures
My Landlord Kicked Us Out for a Week So His Brother Could Stay In the House We Rent
When Nancy’s landlord demanded she and her three daughters vacate their rental home for a week, she thought life couldn’t get worse. But a surprise meeting with the landlord’s brother revealed a shocking betrayal.
Our house isn’t much, but it’s ours. The floors creak with every step, and the paint in the kitchen is peeling so badly that I’ve started calling it “abstract art.”
An old house | Source: Pexels
Still, it’s home. My daughters, Lily, Emma, and Sophie, make it feel that way, with their laughter and the little things they do that remind me why I push so hard.
Money was always on my mind. My job as a waitress barely covered our rent and bills. There was no cushion, no backup plan. If something went wrong, I didn’t know what we’d do.
The phone rang the next day while I was hanging out laundry to dry.
A woman hanging laundry | Source: Pexels
“Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Nancy, it’s Peterson.”
His voice made my stomach tighten. “Oh, hi, Mr. Peterson. Is everything okay?”
“I need you out of the house for a week,” he said, as casually as if he were asking me to water his plants.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“What?” I froze, a pair of Sophie’s socks still in my hands.
“My brother’s coming to town, and he needs a place to stay. I told him he could use your house.”
I thought I must’ve misheard him. “Wait—this is my home. We have a lease!”
“Don’t start with that lease nonsense,” he snapped. “Remember when you were late on rent last month? I could’ve kicked you out then, but I didn’t. You owe me.”
An angry man talking on his phone | Source: Freepik
I gripped the phone tighter. “I was late by one day,” I said, my voice shaking. “My daughter was sick. I explained that to you—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “You’ve got till Friday to get out. Be gone, or maybe you won’t come back at all.”
“Mr. Peterson, please,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
An expressive woman talking | Source: Pexels
“Not my problem,” he said coldly, and then the line went dead.
I sat on the couch, staring at the phone in my hand. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Lily, my oldest, asked from the doorway, her eyes filled with concern.
I forced a smile. “Nothing, sweetheart. Go play with your sisters.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Pexels
But it wasn’t nothing. I had no savings, no family nearby, and no way to fight back. If I stood up to Peterson, he’d find an excuse to evict us for good.
By Thursday night, I’d packed what little we could carry into a few bags. The girls were full of questions, but I didn’t know how to explain what was happening.
“We’re going on an adventure,” I told them, trying to sound cheerful.
A woman packing together with her daughter | Source: Pexels
“Is it far?” Sophie asked, clutching Mr. Floppy to her chest.
“Not too far,” I said, avoiding her gaze.
The hostel was worse than I expected. The room was tiny, barely big enough for the four of us, and the walls were so thin we could hear every cough, every creak, every loud voice from the other side.
A woman in a hostel | Source: Freepik
“Mama, it’s noisy,” Emma said, pressing her hands over her ears.
“I know, sweetie,” I said softly, stroking her hair.
Lily tried to distract her sisters by playing I Spy, but it didn’t work for long. Sophie’s little face crumpled, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.
“Where’s Mr. Floppy?” she cried, her voice breaking.
A crying child | Source: Pexels
My stomach sank. In the rush to leave, I’d forgotten her bunny.
“He’s still at home,” I said, my throat tightening.
“I can’t sleep without him!” Sophie sobbed, clutching my arm.
I wrapped her in my arms and held her close, whispering that it would be okay. But I knew it wasn’t okay.
A woman hugging her crying child | Source: Freepik
That night, as Sophie cried herself to sleep, I stared at the cracked ceiling, feeling completely helpless.
By the fourth night, Sophie’s crying hadn’t stopped. Every sob felt like a knife to my heart.
“Please, Mama,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I want Mr. Floppy.”
I held her tightly, rocking her back and forth.
A crying girl | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll get him,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.
I didn’t know how, but I had to try.
I parked down the street, my heart pounding as I stared at the house. What if they didn’t let me in? What if Mr. Peterson was there? But Sophie’s tear-streaked face wouldn’t leave my mind.
A thoughtful woman in front of her house | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath and walked up to the door, Sophie’s desperate “please” echoing in my ears. My knuckles rapped against the wood, and I held my breath.
The door opened, and a man I’d never seen before stood there. He was tall, with a kind face and sharp green eyes.
“Can I help you?” he asked, looking puzzled.
A man in front of his house | Source: Midjourney
“Hi,” I stammered. “I—I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m the tenant here. My daughter left her stuffed bunny inside, and I was hoping I could grab it.”
He blinked at me. “Wait. You live here?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. “But Mr. Peterson told us we had to leave for a week because you were staying here.”
A sad woman in the doorway | Source: Pexels
His brows furrowed. “What? My brother said the place was empty and ready for me to move in for a bit.”
I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “It’s not empty. This is my home. My kids and I are crammed into a hostel across town. My youngest can’t sleep because she doesn’t have her bunny.”
A sad young woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
His face darkened, and for a second, I thought he was angry at me. Instead, he muttered, “That son of a…” He stopped himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I had no idea. Come in, and we’ll find the bunny.”
A serious young man opening his door | Source: Midjourney
He stepped aside, and I hesitated before walking in. The familiar smell of home hit me, and my eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall. Jack—he introduced himself as Jack—helped me search Sophie’s room, which looked untouched.
“Here he is,” Jack said, pulling Mr. Floppy from under the bed.
A pink stuffed bunny under a bed | Source: Midjourney
I held the bunny close, imagining Sophie’s joy. “Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Tell me everything,” Jack said, sitting on the edge of Sophie’s bed. “What exactly did my brother say to you?”
I hesitated but told him everything: the call, the threats, the hostel. He listened quietly, his jaw tightening with every word.
A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
When I finished, he stood and pulled out his phone. “This isn’t right,” he said.
“Wait—what are you doing?”
“Fixing this,” he said, dialing.
The conversation that followed was heated, though I could only hear his side.
A serious man on his phone | Source: Pexels
“You kicked a single mom and her kids out of their home? For me?” Jack’s voice was sharp. “No, you’re not getting away with this. Fix it now, or I will.”
He hung up and turned to me. “Pack your things at the hostel. You’re coming back tonight.”
I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “What about you?”
“I’ll find somewhere else to stay,” he said firmly. “I can’t stay here after what my brother pulled. And he’ll cover your rent for the next six months.”
A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
That evening, Jack helped us move back in. Sophie lit up when she saw Mr. Floppy, her little arms clutching the bunny like a treasure.
“Thank you,” I told Jack as we unpacked. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I couldn’t let you stay there another night,” he said simply.
A young child holding her toy | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, Jack kept showing up. He fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen. One night, he brought over groceries.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, feeling overwhelmed.
“It’s nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I like helping.”
A man with groceries | Source: Pexels
The girls adored him. Lily asked for his advice on her science project. Emma roped him into board games. Even Sophie warmed up to him, offering Mr. Floppy a “hug” for Jack to join their tea party.
I started to see more of the man behind the kind gestures. He was funny, patient, and genuinely cared about my kids. Eventually, our dinners together blossomed into a romance.
A couple on a date night | Source: Pexels
One evening several months later, as we sat on the porch after the girls had gone to bed, Jack spoke quietly.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, looking out into the yard.
“About what?”
“I don’t want you and the girls to ever feel like this again. No one should be scared of losing their home overnight.”
A young man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
His words hung in the air.
“I want to help you find something permanent,” he continued. “Will you marry me?”
I was stunned. “Jack… I don’t know what to say. Yes!”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
A month later, we moved into a beautiful little house Jack found for us. Lily had her own room. Emma painted hers pink. Sophie ran to hers, holding Mr. Floppy like a shield.
As I tucked Sophie in that night, she whispered, “Mama, I love our new home.”
“So do I, baby,” I said, kissing her forehead.
A woman tucking her daughter in | Source: Midjourney
Jack stayed for dinner that night, helping me set the table. As the girls chattered, I looked at him and knew: he wasn’t just our hero. He was family.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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