I confess. Daughter showed up on Saturday AM with the Harry Potter she had bought at midnight. Since she actually has a social life, she figured I'd get to it sooner and, delightful child, left it for me. You can guess what I was doing that evening. Her timing was fortuitous since I had just finished The Father of Forensics earlier that morning. I suspect I must be on like a Victorian medical kick or something. It wasn't bad, but it was like reading Infamous Murders.
As to Harry, I have to say, the first half of the book had the old Potter magic. The rest left me wanting. Of course, it could have been that I didn't finish the eight hundred some odd pages until 2:30 in the AM. I'm still unclear about some wands, but I'm not going back.
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