Harry Potter and the Converted Fan

I never thought I'd like Harry Potter. I avoided the first book, all those years ago, when all my friends were raving about it. I laughed when it hit number one on the New York Times Bestseller list. And I flat-out refused when the first movie arrived in theaters.

My family, as in many cases, decided for me. On Thanksgiving of that year, it was decided that the whole family would go see the first movie together after our Thanksgiving dinner. My younger cousin and I were the lucky ones who had the privilege to go to the theater and block off an entire row for the rest of our family. I've never been called so many nasty names by angry parents in my life. The movie was alright. It was fun, but definitely a kids movie. It was, after all, about a bunch of eleven-year-olds.

It was a few years, and four books, later when a friend of mine convinced me to give Harry Potter a chance. Reading the first book, I found, was much better than the only move I'd seen. The second, third, fourth, and even fifth only continued to get better and better. I wouldn't consider myself a fan, but they were definitely enjoyable to read.

When the sixth book came out a year ago, I read it after my girlfriend, and was transfixed. It was gripping, and I found myself frustrated by all the things I'd forgotten in the two years since I'd last read the series. I started over again, and read through all six books.

The seventh and final book, as if I even needed to say, came out last weekend. It's the first one that I've bought, and not borrowed. It's the first one that I acquired and started reading the day it was sold. It's also the longest book I've ever read in a single weekend--a weekend that also included a trip out to Connecticut.

Around 7pm, my fiancé and I went down to Harry Potter Place. Scholastic, the US publisher of the books, converted the small cobble stoned Soho street behind their headquarters into a veritable Diagon Alley. Here you could find a whomping willow, magicians, face-painting, a sneak peak at the final book, and a few other activities that would allow muggles to escape to Harry's world--if only as a pretext to get in line for the book. More interesting than the activities, though, were all the people, dressed as various characters real and imaginary. Unfortunately for us, the line to get into this tightly controlled space was quite long, and we'd hoped to find a better way to spend the evening.

And so we did. Down where I live, there's a Borders on Wall Street. Since there aren't many people who live in the financial district, we figured it would be a far better alternative to standing in line for ages and ages in Soho. We made the right choice. We got numbered wrist bands upon arrival, and were then free to peruse the store, or even leave. No lines! We whiled away, chatting and reading bits of books around the store. We took part in a brief debate on whether Snape was a friend or foe, and watched all the kids--and a few adults--in their costumes. When midnight struck, we bought our books and headed home to begin reading. We read nearly all weekend, with brief pauses to eat, sleep, and view possible wedding venues. It was so gripping, and so well-crafted, that I couldn't put it down. I even woke up a little early yesterday morning to finish it before work as I was so close to the end. It was wholly satisfying.

What a great story.