Serena Riglietti
A Train Ride to Magic
It all began with a train. Just as J.K. Rowling first envisioned the story of Harry Potter on a train, Italian illustrator Serena Riglietti’s journey into the Wizarding World started with one too. In October 1997, determined to change her life, Riglietti boarded a train to Milan carrying her portfolio, headed for the offices of Salani Editore. This visit, seemingly ordinary, would mark the beginning of her long and transformative relationship with the Harry Potter series.
Initially, she was commissioned to illustrate a children’s book by Beatrice Masini titled La casa delle bambole non si tocca!, which featured a girl wearing a house-shaped hat. That curious choice of headwear would foreshadow the whimsical, eccentric details Riglietti would later bring to the Harry Potter books—most famously, a mouse-shaped hat atop Harry's head on the cover of Harry Potter e la Pietra Filosofale.
The First Steps into the Wizarding World
Riglietti's first contact with Harry Potter was clouded in mystery and haste. When Salani asked her to illustrate the Italian edition of Philosopher’s Stone, the book was still being translated. She was given only a vague summary of the story: an orphan boy, a bearded giant, a school of magic, and a pet—perhaps a mouse or an owl.
From these scattered clues, she created her initial artwork: a red-haired boy (Harry) riding on the shoulders of an enormous Hagrid. Missing were the now-iconic glasses and lightning bolt scar. Despite the inaccuracies, Luigi Spagnol, head of Salani, found something utterly magical in her drawings. In his own words, “That wrong drawing was perfect.”
The Mouse Hat and Other Mysteries
Of all the illustrations Riglietti created for the series, none has stirred more curiosity and debate than her cover for Harry Potter e la Pietra Filosofale. The image features Harry sitting beside a giant mouse in a chess match, wearing a mouse-shaped hat. Even J.K. Rowling herself has expressed bewilderment at the peculiar choice, famously asking, “Why the mouse head?”
Riglietti’s answer, decades later, is delightfully honest: she simply loves funny hats. “I like to put strange hats on the heads of my characters, I do it whenever I get the chance. I myself would like to have crazy hats!” she declared. The mouse hat, in other words, is a signature of her artistic personality. In a world full of grand gestures and heavy symbolism, her whimsy stands out as authentically hers.
A Tale of Improvisation and Imagination
Because Riglietti began work on Philosopher’s Stone without access to the full manuscript, she had to invent much of her imagery. The first drawing of Harry and Hagrid was done in Catania during a New Year’s Eve trip, using borrowed pencils and watercolor paper. It became a kind of origin story: a creative act born out of improvisation, colored by her surroundings, and filled with visual metaphors—like the chessboard and the mouse, signifying Harry’s trials and fate.
The lack of information paradoxically gave Riglietti a rare freedom. She described her early illustrations as “a rediscovery of something that has always belonged to you.” Her Harry was a child of intuition, not of canon. This gave the first cover a timeless, theatrical feel, resonating with readers across generations—even as it diverged from the "correct" details.
From Picture Book to Phenomenon
Riglietti has often said that the first book remains her favorite to illustrate. She treated it almost like a picture book, creating fully imagined scenes with deep identity. But with the growing success of the series came new pressures: tighter deadlines, editorial constraints, and an evolving readership.
By the time Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban, and Goblet of Fire were released, film adaptations loomed large. Riglietti was asked to obscure Harry’s face—sometimes drawing him in profile, from behind, or with his features hidden—to avoid clashing with the image of Daniel Radcliffe. “Many reproached me that my Harry was different from the films. Thank you,” she wryly noted.
Motherhood and the Phoenix
Of all her covers, Riglietti is most attached to that of Harry Potter e l’Ordine della Fenice. She completed it on September 2, 2003—the very day her son Francesco was born. “When a child is born,” she reflected, “it is as if a part of you dies to be reborn again.”
This symbolic rebirth is echoed in the illustration’s Latin inscription: “Refecta mea, vivo mortis” (Regenerated, I live my own death). The phoenix, rising from its ashes, became a mirror of her own transformation—from artist to mother. She finished the drawing, called a courier to pick it up from the maternity ward, and went into labor. Francesco was born that night.
Growing Darkness and a Changing Audience
As the series matured, so did Riglietti’s illustrations. The tone grew darker and more intense. She simplified the internal illustrations and focused more on the covers. Her artistic style became more raw, even crude, in keeping with the increasingly complex themes of the books.
With Half-Blood Prince, she hid her name in runes on the Pensieve illustration. With Deathly Hallows, she dreamed of a minimal cover—white with a red fingerprint—but was asked to produce something more narrative. She compromised, portraying two indistinct figures and a white doe on the back, surrounded by the haunting phrase: “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”
On that final cover, Riglietti symbolically bid farewell to the series. In the background, a baby Harry is watched over by the gazes of Lily and James. “I drew it thinking of an adult audience,” she said, “but always trying to maintain consistency with the rest.”
Reflection and Legacy
Looking back, Riglietti views her contribution with a balance of pride and detachment. She acknowledges the inconsistencies, the fan debates, and the critiques. “It is so obvious that when you do something so visible, there will be someone who loves your work and others who don’t,” she says. “If you think about it, the opposite would be really strange.”
Over the years, her original covers have become collector’s items. In 2018, all seven were auctioned in Rome, alongside preliminary sketches and chapter illustrations, with prices ranging from €1,500 to €30,000. Her whimsical, surreal visual interpretation of Harry Potter has left an indelible mark on Italian readers and international fans alike.
A Signature Style
Serena Riglietti’s Harry Potter illustrations are not always accurate, but they are always hers. They reflect a unique Italian sensibility, shaped by her studies in Urbino and inspired by Renaissance colors and storytelling. Her characters wear absurd hats, live in dreamy atmospheres, and convey metaphor as much as magic.
Asked once if she would change anything, she responded, “Probably, yes—because I’ve changed. But that doesn’t mean the work wasn’t right then. It meant something at that time.”
And that is perhaps the essence of her legacy: art that captures a fleeting moment, the feeling of a world just beginning to bloom, drawn with the intuition of a young woman on a train to Milan who believed in the power of storytelling.