Harry Potter Party: Dutton’s Brentwood Bookstore, Part Two
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At 11:15 p.m., bookstore owner Doug Dutton, dressed in a hooded monk’s robe of rough brown fabric tied with a rope, welcomed guests to the “longest running Harry Potter publication party west of the Mississippi.” The store had actually thrown a party for the second book, although this wasn’t a midnight extravaganza — that started with book number three. The difference this year was the level of anticipation. The party officially started at 11, but by 9, a crowd was gathering in the courtyard.
The countdown clock was running: 39 minutes to midnight. A little later, Dutton appeared again, to lay out rules for the evening:
1. The use of exploding money is strictly prohibited.
2. No apparating to the front of the line.
3. No sliding down the banisters. Sliding up the banisters was okay.
Manning a divination booth in the courtyard were a pair of 16-year-old girls who have formed a Harry Potter club at their school and consider themselves experts on HP trivia. They were challenging all comers, and it was amazing how many really young kids could come up with details from all six books.
By 11:45, there were hundreds of people in the courtyard, and the line for pre-paid copies snaked around the planters, under the stairs and out to the parking lot. The countdown was thunderous, and the press at the tables where books were being exchanged for vouchers was staggering.
Bookstore employees dashed back and forth from the back room, wheeling dollies loaded with boxes marked “Harry Potter: Do Not Open Until July 21.” You knew people were happy because, despite the hideous traffic jam getting out of Dutton’s parking lot, there were no incidents of road rage.
On the way home, one of our kids opened the book right away and started reading; in the other car, the audio book wrapper was unceremoniously shredded and a disk stuffed into the dashboard in an effort to hear as much of the story before sleep took over. Parking, we encountered several families dragging home with humongous books under their arms.
We all smiled sleepily at each other and turned in.
Sonja Bolle and Liz Dubelman