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 MIL Demanded I Give Her a Key to Our House Because ‘That’s What Good DILs Do’
When my mother-in-law demanded a key to our home, claiming, “That’s what good daughters-in-law do,” I realized she had no concept of boundaries. So, I came up with a plan that would teach her what privacy actually means, without destroying our relationship in the process.
There’s something uniquely challenging about loving someone whose mother thinks her son’s marriage certificate includes her name, too.
My husband Josh is wonderful. His mother, Diane? Let’s just say she missed the memo that umbilical cords are cut at birth.
A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney
Diane is the kind of woman who’ll greet you with a big, genuine smile and do everything to make you feel comfortable. When you first meet her, you’re instantly charmed. She remembers your coffee order after hearing it once. She sends thoughtful birthday cards with handwritten notes.
She’s the kind of woman you’d want to be friends with because she’s what you call a “girl’s girl.” She’s the kind of woman who’s always there for her loved ones. She’s kind. Nice. Caring.
But when it comes to her son? She’s a whole new person.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
“Josh always loved my chicken pot pie recipe,” she’d announce while rearranging the dishes in our kitchen cabinet. “You should really learn to make it properly.”
She is one of those women who thinks being a “boy mom” gives her permanent access to her son’s entire existence. And by extension, mine too.
I met Josh at the marketing firm where we both worked. He was the quiet creative director who surprised me with his dry humor during late-night campaign preparations.
A man working in his office | Source: Pexels
After our third coffee break that somehow stretched into dinner, I knew he was special. Six months later, we were engaged, and I was happier than I’d ever been.
“You proposed already?” Diane had said when Josh called to share the news. I was sitting right beside him and heard her voice clear as day through the phone. “Don’t you think that’s a bit rushed? Remember what happened with Sarah from college?”
Josh just laughed it off.
“Mom, this is different,” he said. “Kiara is different.”
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
I should have known then what I was in for, but love has a way of making red flags look like regular flags caught in a romantic breeze.
The real trouble started when I got pregnant, barely a year into our marriage. What should have been the happiest time became an exercise in boundary-setting.
“You’re carrying too low. It’s definitely a boy,” Diane would declare, placing her hands on my belly without asking. “Josh was carried exactly the same way.”
When I opted for a gender reveal party and discovered we were having a girl, Diane’s smile froze.
A woman with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Well,” she said, sipping her champagne, “Men in our family usually have boys first. Must be your family’s influence.”
Then came the unsolicited advice about everything from what I should eat (“No spicy food, it’ll give the baby colic!”) to how I should sleep (“Never on your right side, it restricts blood flow!”).
None of it backed by medical science, all of it delivered with the confidence of someone who believed raising one child 40 years ago made her an expert.
When Josh and I moved into our first home, she visited the following week without asking.
A woman standing in her son’s house | Source: Midjourney
I opened the door in a robe, mascara under my eyes, and our colicky three-month-old daughter on my hip. The house was a mess with dishes piled in the sink and baby clothes scattered across the living room. I hadn’t showered in two days.
“Oh, I figured you’d be home,” she said, brushing past me into our entryway. “I brought my own cleaner. This place needs some real help.”
That should’ve been my warning.
A vacuum cleaner | Source: Pexels
Since then, Diane’s boundary-crossing became a regular feature in our lives. Like the time she rearranged our living room furniture while we were at work.
“The feng shui was all wrong,” she explained when I came home to find my reading nook completely dismantled. “This arrangement brings better energy for the baby.”
Josh just shrugged when I complained later.
“That’s just Mom being Mom,” he said, as if that explained everything.
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
Then there was the time she tossed out all the “unhealthy” snacks from our pantry. My secret stash of chocolate-covered pretzels, the spicy chips I’d been craving since pregnancy, and even Josh’s protein bars. All gone.
“You’ll thank me later,” she insisted. “Processed food is basically poison.”
But the final straw? Walking in on me breastfeeding in our bedroom.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, barely pausing as she placed fresh towels in our en-suite bathroom. “I’ve seen it all before.”
A woman standing in her son’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney
I clutched the nursing cover tighter, feeling violated in what should have been my most private moment.
“Diane,” I said, “I’d appreciate a knock next time.”
She looked puzzled, as if the concept was entirely foreign to her. “We’re all family here,” she replied breezily.
It was too much.
A month ago, at our regular Sunday brunch, she dropped it casually between bites of lemon scone.
A tray of scones | Source: Pexels
“I’ll need a key to your house,” she announced, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “That’s what good daughters-in-law do, you know.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. The audacity of the request (read: the demand) left me speechless for a moment.
“Excuse me?” I finally managed.
“For emergencies,” she explained, as if I were slow to understand a perfectly reasonable request. “For when I drop things off. For being part of the family.” She reached across the table to pat my hand. “It’s not like I’d misuse it.”
A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Josh looked at me. I looked at him. He wisely shoved another bite of scone into his mouth and stayed out of it.
But Diane? She wouldn’t let it go.
“Every woman in my bridge group has access to her grandkids and her son’s house,” she continued, stirring another sugar cube into her already-sweet tea. “Phyllis even has her own bedroom at her son’s place. Is there something you’re hiding from me?”
The question hung in the air between us.
A close-up shot of a woman’s eye | Source: Midjourney
What was I hiding?
Only my sanity. My autonomy. My right to live in my own home without wondering if my mother-in-law might appear at any moment to critique my housekeeping, parenting, or the way I loaded the dishwasher.
On the drive home, Josh finally spoke.
“Maybe we should just give her a key,” he suggested tentatively. “It might make life easier.”
I stared out the window, watching suburban houses blur past, each one a sanctuary I suddenly envied.
The view from a car driving on a road | Source: Pexels
“Easier for whom?” I asked quietly.
He had no answer.
***
After weeks of texts asking, “Have you made a copy yet?” and phone calls reminding me how “normal families share keys,” Diane finally wore us down.
Or rather, she wore Josh down, and by extension, me.
“It’s just easier to give her what she wants,” Josh sighed one night after his mother’s third call that day. “You know how she gets.”
I did know. And that’s when we came up with an idea.
The following weekend, at our usual Sunday brunch, I handed Diane a small gift box with a ribbon on top.
A gift box | Source: Midjourney
Inside, nestled on a bed of tissue paper, lay a shiny brass key.
“Oh!” Her eyes lit up as she lifted it out. She looked smug. Triumphant. Like she’d won something.
“This is what good DILs do,” she said, pocketing it like a trophy. “You won’t regret this, Kiara.”
But I knew better.
Fast forward to the following weekend.
Josh and I were out on a rare brunch date, enjoying our eggs benedict and mimosas, when my phone buzzed with a Ring camera alert.
A phone on a table | Source: Midjourney
There she was. At our front door. Key in hand. Trying to unlock it.
Jiggle. Twist. Try again. Nothing.
She bent down, inspecting the doorknob. Looked confused. Then annoyed. She tried again, more forcefully this time, as if the lock might yield to her determination.
I answered through the camera, sipping my coffee.
“Everything okay, Diane?”
She squinted into the lens, startled.
“The key’s not working,” she huffed. “Did you give me the wrong one?”
A key in a keyhole | Source: Pexels
I smiled, meeting Josh’s supportive gaze across the table before answering.
“Nope. It’s the key to Josh’s old bedroom at your house. You know, the one you used to walk into without knocking? That was your space. But this house? This life? It’s ours. No unannounced visits anymore.”
She didn’t respond. Just stared for a moment, mouth slightly open, and then walked back to her car with rigid shoulders.
Later that evening, Josh texted her.
“We’re happy to have you visit, Mom. But from now on, visits are by invitation, not surprise entry.”
A person texting | Source: Pexels
She didn’t reply for a few days.
The silence was new territory in our relationship with Diane. She had always been quick with responses.
I didn’t text her. I didn’t call her. I wanted to give her time to understand what she’d done and what we wanted from her.
And that worked.
When she finally called Josh the following Wednesday, her tone was different. He put the call on speaker so I could hear.
A man holding his phone | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice lacking its usual authority. “I may have overstepped.”
Coming from Diane, this was practically a full confession and apology.
“I just worry about you,” she continued. “And the baby. I want to be involved.”
“You can be involved, Mom,” Josh said gently. “Just on our terms.”
When she came over for dinner that Friday, after texting to ask if the time worked for us, she brought a homemade chocolate cake and a small gift.
A chocolate cake | Source: Pexels
“It’s a doorbell,” she said with a small smile. “For when I visit.”
And when she needed to use the bathroom? She knocked on my bedroom door before entering.
Isn’t that amazing? I was shocked but also happy to see she’d finally learned her lesson.
That night, after she left, Josh put his arm around me on the couch.
“That was kind of brilliant,” he admitted. “The key switch.”
I leaned into him, relieved. “I guess you’re never too old to start learning about boundaries.”
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