HP and the DH

My parents and my little brother are coming to visit in July. Last night, my mom told me over the phone that the weekend they’d be here is the weekend that the seventh and final Harry Potter book comes out.

When HP 4 came out, we found out that they were going to start selling them at midnight at Borders, so my sister, some friends, my mom and I went and stood in line. This was the first time they’d done a midnight release, since it hadn’t been quite so wildly popular when the first three came out, and even then, there wasn’t a huge line. There were dozens of people, certainly, but not hundreds or thousands like there are now. We chatted in line with the other die-hard HP fans and then, after getting our copy, bought Italian sodas. The next day, we read the first chapter together, with my other sister who hadn’t wanted to stay up that late the night before.

When the fifth book came out, there were big parties at all the book stores and our whole family went. We made shirts and drew lightening bolts on our foreheads.

Two years ago, when book six came out, we were in Rochester, New York for a family reunion. My mom looked up the nearest Barnes and Noble, and we went and stood in line for quite a long time. When we got back to the hotel, my mom read aloud the first chapter.

Now, when the last book comes out, my mom will be here. We’ll get to stand in line at Barnes and Noble again, and she’ll read aloud the first chapter to us.

I distinctly remember the first time I heard about Harry Potter. My mom read aloud to the three of us girls every night before bed, and we were looking for a new book for the month and, browsing on amazon.com, we found the very first HP. We read the blurb about it and several rave reviews and immediately ordered it. A month or so later, we ordered the second book, and by the time we’d finished that one, the third one had just come out. She read all three out loud to us, but when the fourth one came out, she told us each to read it as fast as we could so that no one would accidentally tell us what happened. We all loudly protested, saying that she had to read it out loud to us. It wouldn’t be the same if she didn’t. She agreed, and no one spoiled the ending for us.

It wouldn’t be the same without my mom reading at least part of the last Harry Potter book with me. I’m so glad she’ll be here to read it to me, that she’ll have read aloud part of every single Harry Potter book with me. I remember her telling me, back when the fourth one came out, that by the time the last one came out, I’d probably be married. She was right; I’m just glad that doesn’t mean she can’t still read the last one to me.