You may have heard about a series of books that are taking America by storm. They illustrate the often brazen, sometimes funny, but constantly poignant adventures of a young spiritual seeker, told in the form of parables. There are four installments so far, and they illustrate a 10-year old Jewish boy’s return to the observance of his family’s tradition, detailing his mishaps and escapades along the way.

If you haven’t heard of the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling, you can stop any child at random. Chances are, he or she can recite entire chapters by heart. But in case you can’t find any children scurrying about, here goes.

Our hero, Harry Potter, is a boy living in a dismal situation with relatives who just don’t understand. They’re selfish, and they insult Harry and demean him. Harry’s Uncle Vernon is a gluttonous, immoral and self-obsessed ganef (thief). The rest of his family is even worse. They are ruled by their Yetzer Hara (evil inclination)—but I won’t start interpreting yet.

One day, Harry meets a wizened old sage with a white beard flowing to his knees. He reveals to Harry the secret about his ancestors and their ritual practices. Uncle Vernon and family think these practices are disgraceful and barbaric, but Harry feels an affinity for them.

He’s taken to a yeshivah-type boarding school called Hogwarts Academy, where all the students wear unusual garb and have magnificent feasts once a week. There, Harry quickly becomes acclimated to Wizard culture.

Harry occasionally visits the home of his best friend Ron and learns about the way Wizards live—the specially-segregated food they eat and their unique vocabulary, which sounds remarkably like Yiddish. Uncle Vernon forbids Harry to use Wizard words like “muggles” and “schlep” or to practice his favorite pastime, the game of Quidditch (pronounced KID-dish).

Now, that’s the outline of the story in skeletal form. Of course, there are details that don’t exactly line up. Not to mention the fact that nobody mentions anything Jewish in over 2,000 pages of the story—but that doesn’t break my case. And yes, it’s true that I could be imagining all of this. And your doubts would be utterly grounded in truth, in spite of all these unbelievable coincidences, even if I didn’t have “evidence.”

I called J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter books, to get to the bottom of this burgeoning conspiracy. She graciously, if reluctantly, allowed me to meet with her in the lobby of the Grand Hotel in New York City. From there, she walked me to Kosher Delight because, as she said, their haimish muggle cooking was “the way it was meant to be.” What transpired next was truly fantastic.

ME: Isn’t it true that the Wizard boy Harry Potter is a spiritual seeker who is reclaiming his Jewish heritage, and that his real name was originally Haim Potterovitch, but your publishers insisted on changing it?

ME: Well, what about Headmaster Dumbledore? Don’t you think he looks and acts exactly like a rabbi, and wouldn’t it be hard to conceive of the Hogwarts Academy as anything but a yeshivah?

JKR: A yeshivah? I wouldn’t know from it. As for the Headmaster, he’s actually modeled after my friend Moshe, uh, Mike Smith. Mike Smith. Yup, that’s it.

ME: Moshe Smith, huh? I’m sorry—I don’t know how I could have been so mixed up. Anyway, how about the fourth book, where Professor Snape is teaching the students about the Halachot (Jewish laws) of broomsticks? Remember when he says that there’s a machloket (rabbinic dispute) over whether or not one is allowed to fly a broomstick on Shabbat?

JKR: Actually, no.

... in this ancient scroll, Harry learns that the key to finding this new world is to do acts of kindness. He goes wild giving charity... Soon enough, the whole world begins to act like Harry. Even Uncle Vernon begins to act a little kinder

JKR: Oy. Enough already.

ME: Okay. Maybe that didn’t really happen. But I’m writing an article for Farbrengen, and I’m trying very hard to have it published. Isn’t there anything at all that you can tell me to back up my case?

JKR: Sorry Matthue, you’re on your own. Maybe some day Harry might discover a secret scroll, where he learns of a hidden world of peace and goodness.

ME: Aha! I knew it …

JKR: And in this ancient scroll, Harry learns that the key to finding this new world is to do acts of kindness. He goes hog-wild giving charity, setting up places where poor people can get hot meals, and helping old people with their groceries.

ME: Wow …

JKR: Soon enough, the whole world begins to act like Harry. Even Uncle Vernon begins to act a little kinder. Then Harry realizes that this fantastic, new world he’s been seeking will never magically appear … it is the world of kindness that he has already created.

ME: Just as I thought!

JKR: But then again, I might do something completely different.

ME: Completely different?

JKR: Yes, completely. Look Matthue, I really have to go. So I guess you’ll just have to leave Harry and his friends the way they are—deep undercover, okay?

ME: (Deep sigh.) I suppose so. Thanks for your time, Ms. Rowling. It’s been a pleasure.

So there you have it, folks, the undercover “Scoop of the Century,” unearthed right here in these very pages. Look for my next article, where I’ll reveal my findings after interviewing a panel of sherpas in the Himalayas, on the kosher habits of the Abominable Snowman.

Matthue Roth, who lives in Northern California, is a freelance writer and entertainer.