confessions of a teenage harry potter fan

A year ago today, I was in Hawaii anticipating the release of the final Harry Potter installment, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows. Just so you know, Harry Potter is kind of a big thing. My aunt Keli specifically made sure before we left that a bookstore was in the radius of the house we were renting near the water.

There was. It was this tiny thing, with books stacked to the ceiling and a friendly lady who helped us pre-order a copy when we visited days before the release to assure its existence.

Naturally, the night of the release, a serpent (basilisk, anyone?) of people had formed from the entrance of this independent bookstore. A few doors down, a small coffee house was open all night to serve Harry Potter-inspired drinks, such as Butterbeer, that I had, which was really a hot butterscotch drink. I was in nerd heaven.

When it drew closer to midnight, they separated the line and created a pre-paid line, in which I was second. You better believe it. I felt so hardcore. I had my face in the windows, looking longingly at the cardboard boxes marked DO NOT OPEN in that classic lightning script. I think I was saying Accio book! in my head. No joke. I am this nerdy. My aunt was there along for the ride, sipping her themed drink watching me be all anxious and profoundly excited.

I think I squealed when the doors open. All muggles were cheering. My line slithered first (we were Slytherin? WOW) through the open doors and I think there were brownies, which is really nice. All I know is a woman handed over that book and I thanked her and wanted to hug her, but instead I hugged the book to my chest and we were out of that door with it.


I read all night on the futon.