Eric Cadesky and Sjoerd Borst are surprised to find that medical schools bear more than a passing resemblance to Hogwarts, the ancient school of witchcraft and wizardry

In December 2001 the World Health Organization announced a global outbreak of Harry Potter fever. Four strains have been reported so far--all originating in Britain. Not having the time to read up on the subject, we took the flash card approach and saw the movie instead. As the scenes unfolded before our eyes, we were amazed at how J K Rowling's tale of the boy wizard was in fact an allegory for the journey of a modern medical student.¹

The similarities are uncanny. The journey starts with applying to magical, er, medical school. This often feels as difficult as finding platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross station. Some people say that it is a "time waster," but it can be done by believing in yourself, working hard, and learning from others. Oh, and it also "helps if you get a running start." For some, acceptance letters will arrive furiously. While some parents will be "proud to have a witch in the family," others may believe that the magic system is a "load of old tosh" and want their children to choose a more respectable Muggle profession.

Time to pick up supplies
Letter in hand, it is now time to pick up supplies. But where to shop? Diagnosis Alley, of course. Once there, it is necessary to procure the proper equipment: 1 wand, 1 cauldron, 1 microscope. It goes without saying that some schools will not let students bring their own stethoscopes or flying brooms until second year. The Littman Cardio III, it seems, is comparable to the Nimbus 2000.

Classes soon begin, and students learn a diversity of subjects ranging from the effects of Potions (pharmacology) to the Defence Against Dark Arts (ethics). Learning to fly a broom and handling a scalpel require patience and dexterity. After a while, apprentices take their skills to the field. Some of them treat it as a high flying game like Quidditch, competing across the pitch of the clinic. They chase after the elusive golden snitch: the winning diagnosis.

Students quickly realise that they have entered a new realm. Long white cloaks or black robes ensheathe the acolyte. They learn a new vocabulary, struggling to pronounce the magic words correctly (a-TAX-ee-yah, teh-lan-gee-ec-tay-see-AH). Experiences desensitise the learner to what was previously so ghastly and ghoulish. Looking over us is the Ministry of Magic--the self regulating body for wizards.

We have all encountered an enchanting dean
And what of the characters we meet in medical school? We have all encountered an enchanting dean, a remote and powerful figure with twinkling eyes and a deep concern for his flock. Medical students are also well represented in Harry Potter. Hermione is the book smart know it all while Ron is the tardy but well intentioned friend. The haughty Malfoy is focused on family prestige and the personal benefits of magic. And Harry, of course, is the embodiment of the well rounded medical student: he is a natural leader from humble beginnings whose talents are not derived from books alone.

At some point, Harry and his friends must focus on a particular brand of magic; we too must make such difficult career decisions. In some mysterious way, personality and experience contribute to our selection of a specialty. The best we can do is listen to the voice of our internal Sorting Hat before blurting out to the world which path we have chosen. Despite these differences in career and character, medical students bond through shared experiences. As J K Rowling so wisely remarks, "There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a 12 foot mountain troll is one of them."

Perhaps we're stretching this a bit too far. Perhaps we are trying to conjure something out of thin air. Still, Harry Potter has taught us the danger of carelessly waving our wands. He has also demonstrated the positive impact that caring can have on the lives of others: just as Harry freed the captive and lonely snake from its glass cage, we too will use empathy and understanding to heal.

And that, indeed, is something magical.