We first met through a local Chicago discussion group inspired by the podcast Harry Potter and the Sacred Text. Week after week, we gathered with strangers who slowly became friends, reading one chapter at a time and asking not, “What happens next?” but, “What does this chapter ask of me?”

That practice changed the way we experienced stories.

We discovered that fiction can do far more than entertain us. Stories can help us grieve. They can challenge us. They can remind us who we are. They can give us language for experiences we haven’t yet been able to name.

Long after the meetings ended, the conversations continued.

Eventually, we realized we wanted to create a space of our own, one that blended story with tarot, psychology, embodied reflection, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

That’s how the Room came to be.

We don’t believe Harry Potter is the only story capable of changing a life.

We simply believe it’s one of them.

For millions of readers—including us—these books became a place to practice courage, friendship, grief, hope, belonging, and love.

Returning to them as adults has been a surprising experience. The stories haven’t changed, but we have.

Each reread reveals something we couldn’t have seen before because we’re not the same people we were the last time we read it.

That’s the kind of reading we’re interested in.

Not searching for hidden trivia.

Not debating the “correct” interpretation.

But allowing a familiar story to reveal something new about ourselves.

When we say we treat Harry Potter as a sacred text, we don’t mean we believe the books are perfect.

We mean we approach them with intention.

We pay attention.

We ask better questions, ones that matter to our own lives.

Sacred reading isn’t about placing a story above criticism. It’s about allowing it to become a mirror instead of consuming it as entertainment alone.

That’s the heart of the Room.

It would feel strange to create an entire podcast around Harry Potter without acknowledging the harm many people have experienced because of the author’s public statements about the transgender community.

We want to be clear:

We affirm the dignity, worth, and belonging of transgender people and of the entire LGBTQIA+ community. Everyone deserves to be welcomed, respected, and safe.

We also know that many thoughtful people have reached different conclusions about what to do with stories created by someone whose values they no longer share. Some have chosen to step away from Harry Potter entirely. Others have found ways to remain in relationship with the story while grieving, questioning, or challenging its creator.

We don’t believe it’s our place to tell anyone what the right choice is.

For us, this podcast is one way of engaging honestly with that complexity.

Rather than pretending the tension doesn’t exist, we choose to stay with it.

We believe it’s possible to condemn harmful ideas while still acknowledging the genuine meaning a story has carried in our own lives.

If your relationship with Harry Potter is complicated, you’re not alone.

Ours is too.

One of the things we love most about stories is that they don’t stop growing once they’re written.

They become part of conversations.

Friendships.

Families.

Communities.

People bring their own experiences to them, discovering meanings the original creator could never have predicted or controlled.

Over time, stories become woven into the lives of the people who love them.

That’s what we’re interested in exploring.

Not what Harry Potter meant twenty-five years ago.

What it means now.

To us.

To you.

To anyone willing to enter the Room with curiosity.

Because in the end, this podcast isn’t about preserving a story.

It’s about allowing a story to keep changing us.