Review by Scribe After Five
Oct 31I don’t like rating memoirs—it feels unfair to score someone’s personal experiences through the lens of my own literary taste. So, no rating for this one. Just a deep amount of respect for Tom Felton.
It’s fascinating to see how vastly different his perspective is from that of Draco Malfoy and the Wizarding World as a whole. I’m genuinely impressed by how grounded he remains, and how clearly he separates himself from his career and the role that defined so much of it.
I picked up this book because I’ve always been a Harry Potter fan. While there are countless beloved characters in the series, I think it’s safe to say that many of us had our attention drawn to Draco Malfoy. Tom Felton played him so convincingly that both kids and adults alike found him either terrifying or detestable—which, in hindsight, only proves how talented he is.
That curiosity about the actor behind the sneer is what drew me to this memoir. Based on interviews I’d seen, I already had a sense that Tom is nothing like Draco, and reading Beyond the Wand confirmed it tenfold. I went into the book without expectations, ready to see his life before, during, and after Harry Potter through his own lens—and I was hooked from the very first chapter.
What surprised me most was Tom’s voice on the page. He has this wonderful, natural ability to tell his story with honesty, warmth, and humor. His writing is cheeky and self-aware, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability. There’s a lightness to his storytelling that balances the darker moments, which only makes his reflections on fame, identity, and recovery more powerful.
Emma Watson’s foreword was heartfelt and moving, and I felt genuinely grateful that Tom allowed readers a peek into the bond they share. Beyond Emma, his stories about other cast members we know and love were equally touching—each anecdote showing how they unknowingly shaped his journey, both professionally and personally. It’s a quiet reminder of how interconnected and magical people can be when they show up for each other.
There’s a particular section in the book—the story of “The Three Kings”—that truly stopped me in my tracks. Reading about Tom wandering through Malibu, asking strangers for help, covered in mud and lost in every sense of the word, was gut-wrenching. In that moment, I didn’t see the adult actor. I saw the young boy inside him, confused, hurting, and searching for something to hold on to. It’s in that raw honesty that I found my deepest admiration for him.
It takes tremendous courage to share those parts of yourself with the world—to own your struggles without shame or fear of judgment. This memoir doesn’t glamorize fame or hardship; it strips both bare. Tom’s story reminds us that even the most recognizable faces can feel invisible sometimes.
I don’t know Tom Felton personally, of course, and this book is just a small glimpse into his life—but what an honor it is to read it. He comes across as privileged yet humble, lost yet self-aware, messy yet magnetic, and deeply, undeniably human.
Ironically, he became the boy who lived.
I don’t like rating memoirs—it feels unfair to score someone’s personal experiences through the lens of my own literary taste. So, no rating for this one. Just a deep amount of respect for Tom Felton.
It’s fascinating to see how vastly different his perspective is from that of Draco Malfoy and the Wizarding World as a whole. I’m genuinely impressed by how grounded he remains, and how clearly he separates himself from his career and the role that defined so much of it.
I picked up this book because I’ve always been a Harry Potter fan. While there are countless beloved characters in the series, I think it’s safe to say that many of us had our attention drawn to Draco Malfoy. Tom Felton played him so convincingly that both kids and adults alike found him either terrifying or detestable—which, in hindsight, only proves how talented he is.
That curiosity about the actor behind the sneer is what drew me to this memoir. Based on interviews I’d seen, I already had a sense that Tom is nothing like Draco, and reading Beyond the Wand confirmed it tenfold. I went into the book without expectations, ready to see his life before, during, and after Harry Potter through his own lens—and I was hooked from the very first chapter.
What surprised me most was Tom’s voice on the page. He has this wonderful, natural ability to tell his story with honesty, warmth, and humor. His writing is cheeky and self-aware, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability. There’s a lightness to his storytelling that balances the darker moments, which only makes his reflections on fame, identity, and recovery more powerful.
Emma Watson’s foreword was heartfelt and moving, and I felt genuinely grateful that Tom allowed readers a peek into the bond they share. Beyond Emma, his stories about other cast members we know and love were equally touching—each anecdote showing how they unknowingly shaped his journey, both professionally and personally. It’s a quiet reminder of how interconnected and magical people can be when they show up for each other.
There’s a particular section in the book—the story of “The Three Kings”—that truly stopped me in my tracks. Reading about Tom wandering through Malibu, asking strangers for help, covered in mud and lost in every sense of the word, was gut-wrenching. In that moment, I didn’t see the adult actor. I saw the young boy inside him, confused, hurting, and searching for something to hold on to. It’s in that raw honesty that I found my deepest admiration for him.
It takes tremendous courage to share those parts of yourself with the world—to own your struggles without shame or fear of judgment. This memoir doesn’t glamorize fame or hardship; it strips both bare. Tom’s story reminds us that even the most recognizable faces can feel invisible sometimes.
I don’t know Tom Felton personally, of course, and this book is just a small glimpse into his life—but what an honor it is to read it. He comes across as privileged yet humble, lost yet self-aware, messy yet magnetic, and deeply, undeniably human.
Ironically, he became the boy who lived.
