"Mr. And Mrs. Dursely, of number four privet drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."
Nineteen years ago, this was the very sentence that drew in people from across the globe-- men, women, and children alike-- and somehow, miraculously almost, brought us together. This is the first sentence in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.
The first vivid memory I have of my parents, not just allowing, but encouraging me to stay up past midnight takes place in a bookstore in 2009. It was the midnight release of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, and I had just turned 11. But let's backtrack....
When I was a kid-- like most kids I think-- I never got to stay up late on school nights. I never got to stay up late at all, really. Bed time was eight-- 8:30 PM at the latest. Every once in a while, however, something big would happen-- relatives would arrive from a long drive, the sky would fill with shooting stars, a thunder storm would set the windows to rattling in their frames and bright lights to flashing through the house. Needless to say, if I was allowed to stay up, it was because something special was happening, so the fact that I could to go to the midnight release of a book I wouldn't actually even be able to touch until my sister was done with it was actually quite remarkable-- the event itself was remarkable. My first midnight release was Order of the Phoenix (the movie) in 2007, and I attended every midnight release from then on (books and movies alike), and each one was better than the last.
Stepping into a crowd of Harry Potter fans awaiting a midnight release is like stepping into the wizarding world itself: there are people carrying wands, wearing robes and pointed hats, and seriously discussing things that no muggle would understand; there are cases full of sweets you could never find anywhere else in the world; complete strangers rejoice in the tale of "the boy who lived". At the seventh book release, there were even live owls in the bookstore. Whereas the Harry Potter park in Orlando may look the part, the midnight releases are the real deal; the magic of the wizarding world isn't in castles and shoppes, but in the Wizards themselves. Who cares if you're in a cramped bookstore or a crowded cinema if the people you meet are just as great as the main event?
But all this is not to prove how great Harry Potter is, nor how great the releases are-- the books, movies, and events will do that for themselves. This is just to explain at least a pinch of the magic that a midnight release brings, so that perhaps you can begin to understand what it was like, five years ago, when I knew I had lost all that new-book/new-movie energy forever.
And now, in just a handful of weeks, I'll have it back.
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is being released at midnight on July 30th (the morning of July 31st), and you can bet your hippogriff that I've already reserved my copy. I'm ready for my first magical Harry Potter night as an adult. I'm ready to polish my wand, don my robes, and dig out the floo powder. I'm ready to reunite with all the other people who could never leave the wizarding world behind, revisit my childhood, and be a part of something special. I grew up on Harry Potter, and I never want to live in a world without it. Maybe that's weird or dramatic, but it's the truth.
In 1997, the world was first introduced to Harry Potter, and now we're ready to meet his kids. Nineteen years later, all really is well.
