Every so often, the Greek political and media scene latches onto a “fetish word.” A phrase that becomes a meme, a catchphrase, a slogan — usually with a short shelf life — and appears on TV channels, radio stations, in Parliament, on social media, and even at the dinner table with friends. These days, that word is: Harry Potter.

It first appeared defensively from Kyriakos Mitsotakis. Speaking on inflation, he said: “I am not a wizard; I am not Harry Potter,” attempting to temper expectations about eliminating the Greeks’ biggest problem (Metron Analysis, 20/11). A problem that, let’s not kid ourselves, will remain number one until the next electoral sun rises.

The Prime Minister essentially said it straight: “Don’t expect miracles from me,” taking another step toward the line of the pragmatic, fact-based leader who speaks to a centrist audience — the very audience that has made him a two-time winner.

But magic always has its followers. It is easier to desire the ideal than to accept the realistic. Alexis Tsipras once appeared as a political wizard — even if an apprentice — and now aims for a magical comeback.

His new book, with blockbuster-style pre-orders, generated press reports speaking of a “Harry Potter publishing phenomenon.” Of course, the comparison is purely figurative: the Harry Potter books have surpassed 600 million copies, have been translated into over 80 languages, and the franchise has grossed $32 billion overall.

Ithaca will not reach those heights. Yet it may rise above the point where its author seems to have stabilized in recent polls. It is as if he is stuck somewhere between Circe’s island and Calypso’s, with his wand failing to take flight.

And so, between Mitsotakis, who “does not want to enchant,” and Tsipras, who is seeking a way to break the spells of his previous term, we also have Nikos Androulakis. He too referred to the “citizen Harry Potter,” who is called upon to overcome difficulties in a magical way. If you think about it, under PASOK we once lived like wizards — until the spell ran out.

And if all this weren’t enough, within the same week, “Frappe” mysteriously disappeared from OPEKEPE’s examination glass, while Diamantis Karanastasis decided, in a matter of moments, to leave politics and return to acting. The magic of Christmas seems to have thoroughly passed through the surroundings of Parliament.

Let’s just hope the magic doesn’t gain momentum, awaken some Unknown Soldier nearby, and cause further… surprises.