Nine years later, all is well. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, much awaited, much anticipated, and soon to be much appreciated, is out. It is the most pre-ordered book since J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

The eighth instalment of the Harry Potter series also takes the form of a play, a previously unexplored avenue for the franchise. It opens at the close of the final book, 19 years after the wizarding world's triumph over Lord Voldemort, and as Harry sees his son, Albus Severus, off to Hogwarts for the first time.

Though previews for the West End production began in June, it opened to the public only at the end of July. I was in London and managed to see the play after a three-hour vigil outside London's Palace Theatre, hoping for returned tickets to a show sold out until April 2017. It is a five-hour, two-part spectacle (with a two-hour break) of legitimate canon conceived in collaboration with Rowling herself. It is magnificent.

In 2007, Deathly Hallows was, to me at any rate, complete in itself. The Harry Potter universe had arrived at its natural conclusion and everything was perfect - the characters would remain as they are, forever suspended in time, my love for them frozen in eternity. Of course, like all Potter fans, I would have preferred if it never ended; that Rowling would never cease churning out Harry Potter titles until my dying day, but I had accepted that this was the end.

Nonetheless, the scope for spin-offs was endless. The epilogue in the 2007 book - titled "19 Years Later" - was nothing if not a lead-in to a new book. It introduced a new generation of possible protagonists. Yet, when the news about Cursed Child broke, many fans were uneasy. So was I. Would new content tarnish the image of the Harry Potter world that I had so carefully curated? Would the play ruin something that had taken years to assimilate?

It is a worthy sequel, because it conquers the nostalgia that so many of us have felt. The adventures of the Boy Who Lived fill me with happiness every time I reread them, but that sense of wonder that comes with not knowing what happens next is missing. With Cursed Child, we are given the opportunity to explore the uncharted again.

The first scene of the play is a recreation of the epilogue: Harry and Ginny are at Platform 9¾ with Albus, Ron and Hermione with their daughter, Rose, and Draco Malfoy with his son, Scorpius, just before the departure of the Hogwarts Express.

Albus (Sam Clemmett, believable and relatable) leaves for Hogwarts with several misgivings, bearing "the weight of a legacy he never wanted". He is an introvert, resentful of his father, and forever in his shadow. Scorpius (Anthony Boyle, unbelievably endearing) is goofy and gawky, and truly glorious - his character may be my favourite of all time.

The two quickly befriend each other, and not just because they are both sorted into Slytherin. Both have tenuous relationships with their fathers, and they find affirmation and support in each other, as well as a sense of security in Hogwarts - a place neither of them found a home in the way Harry or Voldemort did. The interplay between them forms the crux of not only the play, but also the series itself. It is friendship at its very best; "You make me stronger," Albus tells Scorpius. That is, after all, what Harry Potter is fundamentally about.

Jamie Parker is Harry, in the way he looks of course, but also perfectly depicting his tendency to act without much forethought. Paul Thornley brings Ron to life - he is jovial and ginger and an absolute delight. Noma Dumezweni, amidst all the controversy over her casting, plays Hermione with quiet authority, her tenacity as Minister for Magic evident. Alex Price is also excellent as a mellowed, bitter Draco Malfoy.

I watched it, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, marvelling at the staging. Jack Thorne (playwright) and John Tiffany (director) have managed to conjure Rowling's world, our world, out of nothingness with such skill that you actually gasp at times. Scene changes are swirling trunks, majestically flapping cloaks and powerful, synchronised strides across the stage. There is a pair of whirling staircases that actually seem to convey emotion. Christine Jones's shape shifting set is as vital to the impact of the play as any one of the characters.

There are also dementors, which look like they are made of smoke, as they surge through the audience and move up and down the height of the Palace Theatre.

One of the most essential aspects of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is time. Timeturners are brought back, for the first (and hopefully only) time since Prisoner of Azkaban. The play sees Albus and Scorpius travelling back and forth through time, always meaning well, something that does not always translate in the results. The audience members themselves also traverse through time - you are taken back to a time and place where you discover Harry Potter all over again.

As much as I loved the play, I do have questions. Will it work as well on paper as it does on stage? Is the plot a little too convenient? Would Cedric Diggory actually do that? Does the mathematics of it all work - do the events and the years match up?

At its very core, the play is about family and anxiety and the fierce yearning to connect with the people closest to us. There is laughter and love, as well as tears and terror, as you experience the play with people who understand the intensity of the emotion you feel for Harry Potter. Memory and magic are inextricably linked in Cursed Child, making it an unadulterated success.

Anushka Baruah is a final year undergraduate student at Delhi University