When I went to go buy the 7th book, I went at midnight. The 6th and 7th books were the only two I didn’t have before the release date, and the 7th was the only one I went to the midnight party for.
I was at the Mall of America, and was with some friends, but they were all smart enought o drop by early on and pick up their tickets, so they were way ahead of me in line. I wandered arond, and saw people I knew, and got to my place in line. Near the back.
As they called out numbers and the line progressed, we got packed tighter in. The closer we were to the book store, the more excited people got (myself included). There was a girl, my age, probably 70 numbers ahead of me. Since we didn’t get in actual numerical order until very close, I saw her for quite a while.
She was dressed up, the colors of Ravenclaw. She was, like me, alone Not the most common, but not unexpected. But one thing was different than anyone else there. She had, drawn on her face in blue paint, a small tear.
Maybe its trite or just weird, but it set her out from the rest of the group. I looked at her more, trying to understand. She was sad.
The series was ending. Harry Potter was about to be over. These books had enchanted us for years. They are perhaps the most influential books of our generation. As we grew, so did Harry, and so did the books.
I don’t know why this girl was sad, but she made me realize that I was.
