I remember the first time I saw the first Harry Potter movie. My dad picked me up early from school so we could drive to Lansing to see it with my step-sister. I told him specifically to let an aide come to the classroom, but of course as I was sitting in Mr. Hagar’s 9th grade English, my dad knocked on the door. (Obviously the most embarrassing thing ever.) Now for the last film, 10 years older, instead of leaving early from high school, I’m staying late at my big girl job in midtown Manhattan, before I run off and meet friends for the midnight show with chocolate frogs in my purse.
