We actually did brave the line on Friday, sort of. A line of kids running out of Borders at the Block just as we were trying to get in, around 10:30. We stayed to look at the entertainment, which the adults were enjoying at least as much as the kids, and then got some coffee for the drive back. One woman seemed very optimistic about the amount of stuff she’d be able to get done while waiting–I didn’t see it, but Kelson reported that she had a thick stack of things like Divorce for Dummies piled next to her latte.

Saturday, we went on our roughly trimonthly software spree and netted about 8 relatively cool things for about 40% of the original cost. Leaving Fry’s, Kelson said, “So, where to? Home?…Food?…Borders?”

“Borders.”

Three minutes later: “Crap! We don’t have the confirmation number!”

It didn’t matter. The petite witch in the corset handed me a ticket that said “Hufflepuff 707” with no more ID than my name. I went off and picked up the Spanish edition of Prisoner of Azkaban that I’d seen the night before, which I got for 10% off. $30 for both PdA and OotP–not bad. And I only had to be in Hufflepuff for ten minutes.

I don’t remember where I left off Saturday night, but I picked it back up over breakfast on Sunday and didn’t put it down until somewhere around page 417, when it took me half an hour to convince myself to pick it back up again. Tenth grade is hell, and I know it intimately, but it was all just hitting too close. Maybe that speaks well of JKR, maybe it says she’s beating an undead horse. All I know is it very nearly lost me.

I did finish, about dinnertime on Sunday. And sort of went whaaaaaah at the sheer monumentality of 1) the book having been written and 2) my having read it.

I’ll be going all comp-lit on it in another post. Right now, though, bed.