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hanging with the muggles

Moon hurried us out the door so that we could get in line for the 6:30 Harry Potter showing at least an hour ahead of time. I felt as if we were waiting to see a rock concert, or maybe the Rocky Horror Picture Show. The energy was high, and groups of costumed fans huddled together. I saw two different girls with hand-decorated t-shirts declaring themselves “Mrs. Oliver Wood.” Every now and then a whoop or a cheer could be heard over the chatter.

After we found our seats and waited for the previews to begin, several teenaged girls skipped across the front of the theater – one on a broomstick – and coaxed the crowd into doing the wave. Then a chorus of “We love Harry, yes we do, we love Harry, how ’bout you?” broke out.

When the opening credits rolled, there was much rejoicing. A certain electricity was in the air. Happily, the movie was worth all the hubbub. Peter threw his sweatshirt over his head during a few hairy parts, but I saw him peeking out from under it. Moon says she wants to see it again and oh-my-God-are-those-Weasley-twins-hot. Hotness, hotness, says my daughter, who has developed quite a thing for tall red-haired boys.

Next HP movie: November 2005. Guess who’s counting the days?