MR. HARRY POTTER

or

HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE HBP

The Harry Potter series, who'se 6th chapter is about to be released, has become the household name in fiction literature. It is the staple reading of not just children, but adults and teenagers the world over. Apparantly a home without a Harry Potter novel somewhere around is just not considered a home anymore. The ever increasing risk and mystery that enevelopes J.K. Rowling's titular character has people frothing at the mouth for answers to questions first posed with the first book back in 1997. It is their hope that some really big questions will have light shone on them in this read. Of course, a person could just get a good night's rest and then wake up the morning of the 16th rested and ready to spend the whole day reading. But there are those dedicated enough to spend the wee hours of the night waiting with thousands of other like-minded individuals because their need to hold aforementioned book in hand is so great that they may not survive one more minute without it. I saw it as my responsibility, nay, duty to attend one of these social orgies as a man of Potter fan-hood, willing to fork over $20 American to J.K. Rowling.

My experience would begin a week before opening night, when I decided I would finally break down and reserve the latest Harry Potter novel. As you'll see later it'll be a decision that payed for itself in gold. First thing you had to do was obtain your colored bracelet at 6:00pm. I'm no dummy mind you. I got there a whole half hour early to get the best experience available. Thinking myself ahead of the game I was surprised to find a line of people already 40 individuals deep. When I enquired how long the first person in line had been there she exclaimed with great pride, "Since store opening". Meaning she had been waiting on the second level of this store for her bracelet at 9:00am. Disappointed at my devotion to this book series I grudgingly took my place in line. To my surprise I discovered that people with reservations would have specially colored bracelets from those without reservations. My forthinking self would obtain a higher-than-though yellow bracelet. Giving me not only garunteed access to a book later in the evening, but the golden chance to look down my nose at anyone wearing orange bracelets. Including my orangie-branded sister and her friend.

"We may not get a book tonight", one teenage woman told her boyfried as she got in line with him. "They say they have over a thousand reservations".

Suddenly my forthcoming yellow bracelet has nearly quadrupled in value.

Five minutes to six a man wearing what appears to be a Dracula cape announced that the bracelets would be handed out momentarily, and that we should prepare ourselves to be segregated from peers to a superior/inferior relationship that would last the rest of the night.

6:00 hits and we are lead in small groups down the escalators to the lobby of the store where people with a book on hold are crossed off a list and handed a yellow bracelet. Shoppers without get their wrists branded orange, and not crossed off any list whatsoever. I noticed that while the table I had to attend for my prized yellow bracelet had very nice people working there, the orange table had a much kinder and gentler staff operating the handouts. A small token I assumed on behalf of the store to those without a reservation, due mostly because the orangies were in for a hellish and frustrating evening come 12:01am. Eye contact between orangie and bracelet doler consisted of a wordless communicae as if to tell the patron "It will be all right".

"Hey," said one orange wristed gentleman. "If we don't get a book tonight, we can always pick one up at the grocery store in the morning".

Such is the popularity of this series that even a grocery store has plans to stock the latest addition on their shelves. While tonight will belong to the fans, the truth is that every store owner the world over will not only stock Harry Potter: And The Half-Blood Prince, but they most assuredly stock it in spades. An image of Harry Potter books falling off their shelves was conjured in my mind's eye. Every house-hold with more than one child with have multiple copies of this book. Every child in every summer camp will be lugging this novel around while missing out on the fundamentals of outdoor life. Then what? Landfills covered from ground to peak with Harry Potter books. When all the trees in all the world have been cut down, Harry Potter books will be our last resort for writing, toilet, and tissue paper. Doctors and lawyers will be forced to study from The Prisoner of Azkaban and Order of the Phoenix because no one over the age of 50 will have remembered there being anything but Harry Potter books. The world will be a filthy, stinking, wasteland of hate as Harry Potter begins to....."Here's your braclelet sir". Smiling and nodding I take my bracelet and raffle ticket and leave to find some dinner.

Now 8:00pm has rolled around and the party is getting started. So as to show my devotion I take along with me my custom ordered wand and it's fitted leather holster and finally prepare myself for the night. First thing first, I buy a $3.50 bottle of water. If you've ever wondered why bookstores don't mind events like this, why they don't mind giving their employees overtime possibly double time, it's not because they can vast amounts of money on the book release, but so as to sell you additional goods like this. With seven other people behind me in line, and four hours left in the night, the owners of this bookstore will laugh themselves to sleep on a mattress of money and pillowcases filled with coins.

Situated through out the store are tables set up for all sorts of fun events. But before one can take part in these events, you must take part in the sorting ceremony. Which like the novels, recquires a visit to the sorting hat. The announcement of the sorting ceremony, and for all the rest of the night would take place over the phone's speaker system arranged through three different areas of the store. Not exactly Harry Potter magical, but it gets the job done well enough. So after the Sorting Phone gives its announcement, everybody thus far in the store heads over to get in line to get sorted. Which despite it's amazing length moves relativley quickly.

A walkie-talkie underneath the hat tells the teenage lady in front of me that her house will be "Hufflepuff". One of the four houses students in the Harry Potter books get sorted into. She verbally announces her disappointment because the house she really wanted to be in, was "Gryffindor". The house that Harry himself belongs to. I hope for the same too. Either "Gryffindor", or "Slytherin". The two main houses that get the majority of the attention in the books. I resolve that I may be end up in one of the lesser houses, like "Ravenclaw". It is my surprise that the houses shouts, "Slytherin" as I waddle up to the table it's perched on. The nice lady working there stamps my hand and wizard's passport and I'm on my way. Sorted into one of the very houses I was hoping for, things for the night are deffinitly looking up.

Immediatley after my sorting I'm off to my "house". Which is a table with green balloons adorning it and a lady employee in a school girl's uniform. It's there that I, and other children have to fill out our wizard's passport. The passport asks that I spell my name backwards, report how many times I've read the Harry Potter books, and the place that I best like to look at the sky.

So as far as my wizarding passport is concerned my magical name is,

Lallih.

Keeper of the Rooftop.

Passport #10. (Admittidley I've read each book twice for a total of ten)

At this point I realize that the hardest part of the evening will be allowing the children around me to have the best time they can. True, I'm a fan and have every much a right to be there and participate as much as possible, but the key audience here is and always has been the kids. Allowing seven kids to go ahead of me at my house table I finally seize the chance and get my passport officially stamped for travel to different tables.

The next table was supposed to be wand building. But seeing as how my overly portly frame would block several children from partaking in the wand building, and the fact that my wand was already the coolest wand there I skipped it. I went right to the trivia table. Laying on the trivia table were many, many pieces of paper. All of them with questions written on them concerning the different books from the series. I, along with my cohorts went off to answer these questions. Doing what I thought was my best, I stood around while the quiz was graded. Horribly, I missed them all. I missed them like how my aunt misses MASH. If you'd have put a bet on me getting them all incorect you could have walked out of the store with not only every Harry Potter book about to be released, but the deed of the store, calling a real estate agent on your cell phone telling him you were interested in some prime choice realty in Bevery Hills.

"Okay everyone we're ready to grade your answers on book three." Came the heavenly voice of an angel dressed in black with matching feather boa. "Everyone have your book three questions?" Glancing at the top of the page in my hand I noticed that I was holding book four questions, and they had just finished book two. Perhaps my Potter skills are better than I thought. Content that I knew exactly what I was talking about I left the table while book three answers were read aloud. As far as I was concerned I was a book four genius and didn't need anybody to tell me otherwise.

One of the most popular sections of the night was deffinitly the children's section. Everything from great classic children's novels from Stuart Little, to the more modern Harry Potter thieves like Series of Unfortunate Events, and The Spiderwick Chronicles. Placed in the midst of these classics was a table for face painting. A small line of children waiting to have the trademarked "Lightning Bolt Scar" painted on their face were nervously deciding what color they would like their own scar to be. A little boy asked for purple while another asked for orange. The man at the table most happily obliged each request.

"Children are so easily amused", I said to myself. "I wouldn't be caught dead getting a face painting this stage in my life". Annoyingly I left the area, but then determination set in. If I was going to give an honest account of what the event was like, I would have to sit and get my face painted.

"What would you like young man"? the man doing the painting asked me.

"Well I was just sorted into Slytherine. How about a snake".

"What color would you like"? (A professional through and through)

"Let's stick to good ole' green for the snake and red for the tounge".

He went to work as only a man doing this the rest of the night could. With a feverish pitch and a steady hand, this is what I imagine recieving a face tattoo must feel like. Minus the excruciating pain of course. This actually felt like a little tickle against my five o' clock shadow. And while he will be applying scar after scar to children all night long I felt sorriest for him while he was touching my sweaty face with his graceful hand. If he had wiped his drawing hand off on his yellow robes I would not have been offended. Ever the tactful employee he did not, and in mere seconds I was sporting what easily the most attractive and attention catching snake of the evening. In a world of scars, the serpent is king.

Everything that could be done (Without thouroughly disturbing the enjoyment of the children) was finished. No need to make a wand, and no desire to build myself a home-made picture frame it was time to take a break and see what the DVD section downstairs had to offer. There, to my surprise was yet another Potter delight. A chance to pose with a card board cut out of all the Harry Potter book covers. Having passed up other delights that would interfere with the goal audience, a chance to ham it up in front of someone else with a camera would never go unpassed.

The classic opening to the tv show, "The Brady Bunch", opens with the family all looking at each other in their sepereate nine face-filled squares. The Potter poster board was almost an exact duplicate of that image. Having great desire to re-enact that opening scene I stuck my head in that card board cut out and looked up to the right. The poloroid that emerged looks like I have no idea where the camera is. Like I'm expecting it to be somewhere in the ceiling and concentrated only one someone acting like an idiot. "Here I am"! I seemed to say. "Take a picture of the idiot with his face in the carboard cut out"! When it comes to cuteness, adorable I ain't.

With nothing left to do NOW!, the crew and I have decided to simply wait out the remaining three hours on our own. For me, the first thing I saw that I needed to do was buy a DVD of "Anatomy of a Shark Bite". A "Discovery Chanel" program that I only saw five minutes of when it aired. With handy-dandy credit card in hand I zoomed off to the cash register. While in line for the DVD it dawned on me that at 9:00pm the store was still two hours away from it's normal closing time. Meaning that the Harry Potter bash might have been a money machine for the bookstore, but as far as everyone else in the store we were nothing but the biggest nusance to decend on this bookstore since the structure was built.

With my DVD in my clutches, I went out to compare not just the bracelet colors and how many more there were outnumbering the other, but how many braceleted people in general there were versus people without bracelets. At nine at night, the people with bracelets were already outnumbering those without. Three hours to go, and I could only guess as to what sort of crowds would be piling in at any minute.

My assumptions were pretty much accurate. My family had stated that amongst the six year old children I would be a giant in their midst. Terrorizing them like Godzilla on hapless Tokyo. I belived on the other hand that I would be one of the very liberal spreadings of adults cluttering up the aisle ways. The latter it would turn out would be the correct estimate. Many adults flocked to the bookstore this eve. They came in droves. I was locked inside most of the night, but in all probability tour buses and Astro vans full of adults pulled up out front and dumped them on the sidewalk with the driver of those vehicles giving a cheery wave and a "See ya".

Up next was the "Bernie Botts Every-Flavor Bean" counting contest. In which if you guessed correctly how many beans were in the jar you would win a whole boxed collection of the first five Harry Potter books. Granted I already own each and every version in hardback, including the special edition of "Sorcerer's Stone" (Which by the way I picked up for $10.00). But I'm a glory hog and want to be celebrity every chance I get. Even if that means beating out a bunch of children for a prize so treasured they would sell pints of blood for it. There were a ton of beans in there. Probably less than I guessed but I felt the best way to go about it was to combine the numbers my sister came up with, and the one my sister's friend came up with. The combined effort would be a number of 782. I played this game from my heart instead of my head. My head sayed I should have guessed less than 700 beans. The jar was not a big jar. It was roughly the size of my canned ham of a fist. I can barely hold 10 jelly beans. If I had three wishes, one of them would be to have a hand big enough to hold 700 jelly beans. I kid you not. Not to shortly thereafter the winner was announced. With a whoping whole 250 beans. There you have it, I was off by a marginal 532 beans. A pretty wide gap of failure, but as the night would soon prove I would only fail by slightly smaller margin.

The night grew longer and longer and the crowd grew bigger and bigger. It was becoming increasingly apparant that the night was going to get more complicated. A general rule of thumb when it comes to crowds is that you must be the first at whatever it is you all want, or what you want will not be available. Same mentality comes in at midnight movies. Of which I am a seasoned veteran of. If you are not in the first 3/4 of the line, you might as well resolve to the fact that it will not happen for you. Of course this is the furthest from the truth. Chances are if you're in line for something you'll generally get it. Movie ticket, book, action figure. It's all the same. The sort of mob mentality that takes over at events such as this is that everyone must be the first or not at all. Which CAN lead to an awful evening, but in this instance with so many people adoring the book series you would be hard pressed to find anyone with harsh feelings here.

10:30pm hits. An hour and a half until the HBP goes on sale. After an already full day of work, plus two and a half hours of screaming kids and fanatic adults and teenagers, the hours are taking their toll. Desperate to find a place to sit I scour the store for one of their big cushioney chairs. Only to discover that you couldn't find an empty seat to save your life. If your life single handidly relied on you finding a place to sit other than the floor at this event you would have been dead five minutes in. People have been sitting in those seats for hours now. Like a hermit claims a gold mine, they more than likely would have taken a shot at me for approaching their territory.

The employees can sense the weary crowd. Children are crawling into balls on the floor and passing out. Parents are watching over them idly while talking to other parents. Most importantly, they're not spending any money. So to get everyone back into the swing they begin to announce the winners of the raffle. With two whole prizes to give away. What were they? I have no idea. My guess was a set of Harry Potter something or others. Still, my inner celebrity needed to break out and it felt no shame in taking away a prize from a hopeful tot. The first number was read out. My number was 03085678. The first winners number ended with 399. No where close. Hoping against hope I waited for the second number to be read. 0...3...0...8...5...6...7...OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO WIN!!!!...7!!!!! Can you believe it? Off by 1 number!! That means if I had gotten to the store five minutes earlier I would not only be sitting writing about my experience, but writing it with a brand new, something that involved Harry Potter. That's fine though. One less thing to lug around while I still have ninety minutes left.

Desperate not to let fatigue set in I scour the store looking for something to do. So I did what always comes naturally while in a book store. I look for a book to buy. The irony of me buying a book to pass the time until I can buy another book kills me. But with my handy-dandy credit card, and my choice book in tow I'm off to the cash register. By now there's only one hour left to go. I head downstairs and pay at the register. On my way up I over hear two store employees talking about how they want to do this.

"We should probably have them all go upstairs and have them line up, up there".

"Good idea, I'll go make the announcement".

I needed no further warning. Suddenly awake at the idea that I have insider information as to how things will play out, I head for the second level as if the first one is sinking. I pick a prime spot near the down escalator unit, and I wait. I read a little from my brand new book. Thirty minutes in, two chapters later, the announcement hits. "Ladies and gentlemen waiting for Harry Potter, please head upstairs at this time". Buffalo don't migrate this noisily. Gazelle fleeing from a lioness don't move this paniced. The up escalator has to be emergency stopped because of all the people choking it's exit. With only a few key words, one store employee has turned this otherwise docile crowd into a frenzied free-for-all. I'd have taken pictures, but I was afraid my camera would have plunged over the side thus destroying any and all evidence of my being part of this craziness.

The report comes again over the loudspeaker,

"Please do not line up. We will be calling you by the number on your wrist bands, starting with the yellows".

I look at my band and wonder what the first set of numbers they'll call will be.

"Starting with yellow bands 1 - 30".

JACKPOT!! My promptness is about to pay off huge. Not only am I garunteed a copy of this book tonight, I will have it and be home in a matter of forty minutes. Of course, assuming I could get downstairs to line up. People, not just the ones with bands 1 - 30, were streaming down the down escalator. So badly that it too, was emergency stopped and people forced to walk it. At this rate I will never get downstairs. Then, as if Angels were harping behind me, a heavinly "BING" chimed. Behind me was the store elevator for handicapped guests. Quickly, but quietly I board the elevator and to my delight find no one else aware of it's existence. Peacefully I decend, and when I emerge I show my number 026 band to the big security gaurd, and get blissfully into my new line.

While in my new line, excitement grows. We literally have five minutes before the book goes on sale. At this point, the leady four people ahead of me has a question to one of the employees working here.

"When I get up front, can I buy a copy for my mother?"

"Does she have a wristband?" The employee enquires.

"Oh no, she's at home".

If looks could kill this lady would have been dead before she hit the ground. A seething frothing ocean of eavesdropping shoppers were waiting to see what this poor employee would say.

"If you don't have a wristband, you can't buy a book. One wristband equals one book".

And the man keeps his life a little longer. However, it's fun to point out that while this lady attempts small chat with the woman beside her, no one acknowledges her with even a smile or a bit of eye contact. She looked a little surprised at the reactions she was getting from those around her. But Hello! How can you be here the whole night and then ask such a question as that. She's lucky the line didn't turn on her and she gets to escape with a book.

Through the grace of God alone, it strikes midnight. One full minute left. And while the night was a hellish test of dedication and resilience, I have to say that I did enjoy myself through and through. So much so, that I probably intend to do it again for the next and last book. Ten seconds to go and the store begins to countdown all together.

12:01am, and "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" goes on sale. Reports up front tell me that the lady first in line began to openly weep. Thank goodness I'm one of the first thirty, because as I look behind me, people are simply buzzing with anticipation. They cannot stop jittering. These poor employees will most likely be here until three in the morning. But at the moment, non of that matters. Half-Blood Prince is on sale, and that's all anyone can think about.

People cheer as those up front get their copies and hold it high over their head like they've just won the gold in the Olympics. As I approached the counter a lady with a pair of scissors clips my bracelet from me and trashes it. The sole purpose as to why I'm one of the few first people to purchase it is disgarded like all the other trash that night. A sad parting, but the award waiting for me is well worth its yellow sacrafice.

I wanted to approach the counter as cool as I could act when one purchases something mostly enjoyed by children. But the employee behind the counter could care less. The way she sees it, I'm 1 in 100,000,000. I plop down the credit card and she asks, "Would you like a bag?" I decline. I want the world to know that I've received my book, and that the only reason I'm holding it, is because of a night's worth of hard work.

12:15am and I'm on my way to the car to go home and begin my new read. Adventure, but most importantly answers for the previous five await and I know I will tear through this thing in a matter of two days (Approximatley how long it took me to read all the other books). However exciting Harry's adventures and quests will be, they fail in comparisson to real life and it's little journies.

True, Harry has faced fiery dragons and murderous dark lords. But he's never faced a seething crowd of two thousand Potter Fans. And as brave as he is, I don't think he'd ever want to.

Hillal Latif is owner and editor-in-chief of TRUTHBRINGER.COM and in his spare time enjoys reading Harry Potter books and waiting in line for things. Two hobbies that put him a step above the rest in the evolutionary chart.