Once upon a time, a stint at private boarding school was more or less a prerequisite for future membership in the Establishment. Boys began their serious networking in prep school at age 7 or 8 and progressed at 13 to one of the perversely named "public schools." The full character-building experience took 10 years. The result: a body of alumni bound together by acquaintance, shared experience, attitude -- and inhibition.

In the earliest days, boarding schools could depend not only on the tradition-minded and socially ambitious but also on the legion of expat empire builders who sent home a dependable stream of pupils for schooling in the mother country. Not surprisingly, enrollment dropped off as the flag was lowered over successive chunks of Africa and Asia.

The dry spell was made worse when it began to dawn on a generation of parents infected by liberal, '60s-ish notions that they could save plenty of money and heartache by keeping their children at home all year. In a subsequent era of confessionalism, more than a few of the emotionally wounded stumbled into the open to talk of their resentment at "Boarding School Survivors" workshops.

The pace of defection accelerated with the recession of the early '90s. Some schools -- almost always those taking only the 8-to-13-year-olds -- closed forever. Others broke with tradition to take day pupils. The big-name public schools were largely unscathed, although they were sometimes obliged to trawl the world for recruits. In 1985 the number of full-time boarders in Britain stood at 125,000. A little more than a decade later, it had dropped to barely 80,000. The trend looked irreversible.

Until school-loving boy wonder Harry Potter arrived on the scene atop his Nimbus 2000 broomstick. Since the books first hit the bestseller lists, the Independent Schools Information Service has noted the first signs of a reversal. The number of full-time boarders looks set to stabilize; the number boarding on an occasional basis has risen sharply.

Coincidence? There is indeed a slew of factors at work. Britain's return to prosperity means more families can afford the fees; the very idea of "flexible boarding" is new. Still, even the Boarding Education Alliance -- founded three years ago to revive the idea of boarding -- is ready to acknowledge Harry's role. Yes, says the BEA, immersion in the Utopian world of Hogwarts has helped sell the notion of boarding to a new generation of parents and kids.

Every Potter fan knows why. Hogwarts may be spook infested and occasionally scary, but it still represents the kind of ordered and delightful world that most children -- and plenty of adults -- crave. There are simple rules to follow, a clear hierarchy of prefects and teachers, points to be won and some easily identifiable bad guys. Character at Hogwarts means more than having a rich dad and -- in the end -- virtue is usually rewarded. And the food? Sublime, as is the dining room.

In short, it's a lousy guide to real life -- and the British boarding school system. Take it from a middle-aged survivor: Even without the magic, Hogwarts bears the same relation to reality as Narnia does to the back of my bedroom closet. Some aspects of the experience have changed since my days in uniform -- the BEA is anxious to detail various leaps forward -- but even with hot water and the ability to contact one's parents, there are few traces of Hogwarts in the real-world institutions for ambitious boys and girls of a certain caste.

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