Other times it was surprising to the point of disbelief, & not the “inevitable surprises” more typical of Rowling (cough, cough, Delphi’s parents).

And it lacked the strength of its own convictions about the Scorpious /Albus relationship.

…but I loved it anyhow. Still. I loved it for:

• Seeing Snape soften over time and become the best version of himself.
• Hearing Dumbledore name himself “tricky and dangerous” (something I’d never even considered until I read Rowell’s CARRY ON).
• Witnessing Hermione as Minister of Magic, as a warrior (a la Princess Leia), and as a mean professor.
• Remembering just how important Neville Longbottom really is.
• Reading really great lines again, like “She’s weaponized her library!” and “those Dumbledore terrorists” and “Thank Dumbledore.”

And I loved it as an adult. As a mom. Watching Harry (at exactly my own age) feeling as lost in parenting as I do sometimes–somehow that made me feel less alone than all the zillions of parenting books in the world could have done.

Most of all, I loved it because I was reading a new HP story when I never thought I would again.

(Yes, yes, it was a play. Yes, yes, it would be better performed. Yes, yes, it would be even better as a novel. But none of that *mattered* to me very much.)