A new Harry Potter exhibit in Boston conjures up fun and frights from the film series

There's been some scary stuff going on at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry lately. There's Lord Vold . . . oops, I mean, He Who Must Not Be Named, a guy with serious anger issues, and unfortunate mad skills and desire for vengeance and mayhem. There are the Death Eaters and Dementors out there around - and at times, even inside - the castle, sucking happiness out of the very air. Then there's that nasty little mind-meld connection between Harry Potter and, well, You Know Who.

So perhaps it's not a surprise that this fall, the Hogwarts Express has made a detour to Boston, settling in at the Museum of Science through Feb. 21. And while it turns out that Harry, Hermione and Ron didn't make the train - perhaps Hermione had them off in another century with her Time Turner, or maybe they'd been inadvertently sickened by some candy concoction from Fred and George, Ron's entrepreneurial older twin brothers - many of the costumes, props, sets, classrooms and a certain magical Nimbus 2000 flying broom are all there.

For any Muggle who is at least a bit of a Harry Potter fan (and as a fan, you would know that we are all Muggles, lowly, second-class humans who have no magical powers and only the most dim awareness of wizardry), the exhibit is an exhaustive offering of all thing Harry. Upon entering the exhibit there's a lovely British lady with a sorting hat - and while I am not suggesting that the Sorting Hat is fixed or anything, I will suggest that if you tell the nice lady that you believe, in your heart of hearts, that you should live in Gryffindor, then surprise! The Sorting Hat thinks so too.

You enter the exhibit past a life-sized replica of a single engine of the Hogwarts Express (No. 5972) and from there, into a dark and disorienting room that boasts a nearly circular row of screens, broadcasting clips from Potter movies past, future and present in surround sound.

As you enter the formal exhibit you begin, of course, at the dorm room where Harry and Ron became mates. You just don't enter the room, of course - first you encounter those magic Hogwarts pictures on the walls - you know, the pictures where the people are alive, sometimes sleeping, sometimes headless, sometimes peeved -and just at the dorm door, you must, indeed, listen to the Fat Lady in the portrait sing, which is done with ear-shattering gusto.

From the first view of the beds, desks, travel chests, and blankets of Ron and Harry - these are all real movie items - it is clear how much attention to detail, as well as to J.K. Rowling's depictions of her characters was paid. Harry's first Hogwarts uniform is well-pressed, fitted, and finely made; his linens and blankets are new and unfaded; his traveling chest is fine. By contrast Ron - who comes from a poor family with a dad who doesn't make enough at his government job - has nothing new among his things. His blankets are faded and threadbare. His uniform - an un-ironed, hand-me-down of a hand-me-down, leaves him disheveled; he also must wear the over-sized sweater with the giant "R" on it that his mum made him for Christmas.

The show boasts 200 sets and countless props from all of the HP movies - they arrived, in fact, not all aboard the Hogwarts Express but courtesy of 16 semi-trucks. The exhibit takes up 16,000 square feet of space, and each separate exhibit offers a close look at the created world of Hogwarts. Over there is Professor Snape's classroom and his dour school uniform; behind him, rows of dangerous potions. The classroom and prep room of the ultimately evil and pink-loving Professor Umbridge, a shill for the Ministry and the impotent teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts is included. Not surprisingly, the Umbridge room is awash in loud pinks and little photos of cats - Professor Umbridge, perhaps, an original crazy cat lady.

The rooms are filled with costumes from the various films - it's amazing what a short little guy Daniel Radcliffe was when he first took up Harry's wand, as compared to the considerably larger costumes Radcliffe fills now. There are many special treats: Harry and Ron's wands, Harry's first Quidditch costume, even the first wand that belonged to Potter pal (and member of Dumbledore's Army), the hapless Neville Longbottom. In fact, Matthew Lewis - who plays Neville - attended the opening night of the Boston show and placed his wand in the display case himself. That is sort of cool.

There are plenty of smaller artifacts that just grab the Potter fan (not literally - until you get to the Mandrakes, anyway) and send him or her into a fit of fond memory. There's the first letter - typewritten, of course - that Harry received telling him he'd be attending Hogwarts; and the envelope too, addressed to Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs.

The Marauder's Map - and be honest, who among us doesn't want our own Marauder's Map - is displayed, but it is displayed badly. The viewer can certainly see the great skill and detail of the map of the hallways and secret rooms in Hogwarts, but the map is folded and little can be seen. It turns out you can remedy this and purchase your very own Marauder's Map in the special Potter Gift Shop for just $45 or so - those of us without Harry's trust fund remain non-Marauders at this time.

The exhibit is manned room to room by ladies and gentlemen dressed in vaguely Hogwarts gear and speaking in British accents. It turns out the accent was a requirement for the job - about half of the exhibit folks are truly English, and the others are talented theater majors from across Boston.

There is an exhibit in which you can play something of a mock Quidditch match - unfortunately, it seems more a mimic of a bad carnival game. Various Quidditch costumes and props are here, even Draco Malfoy's dark Nimbus 2001. And there, too, is hack reporter Rita Skeeter's official notebook for the Daily Prophet. Sadly, the book itself was not for sale at the gift shop.

Perhaps most impressive is the entire set of Hagrid's Hut. The set includes Hagrid's very, very oversized kitchen table, and the ginormous frying pans and saucepans that would make mortal chefs weep. The kitchen features some collected veggies - the most massively huge collection of potatoes, garlic bulbs, and onions. There are giant traps - one imagines that if Hagrid is going to hunt or fish, he needs to catch him a mighty big fish or animal, so of course he needs a colossal trap. Deadliest catch, indeed. There's a mammoth cauldron over the immense fireplace. A mannequin wears Hagrid's costume, and it is a big mannequin indeed. And just where Hagrid's informal living room might be, there's a great big comfy chair, where, it turns out, you and three or ten of your closest friends can fit and snuggle all at once.

Many of the extraordinary creatures are included, from Buckbeak (one of Hagrid's slightly out-of-control pets whose life was saved by Hermione and her Time Turner.) There's Dobby, the masochistic house-elf. And near the end - just after a creep-you-out tour of Death Eaters, Tom Riddle, the Dementors, the flat, conscienceless-deformed face of You Know Who and overhead, in a certain area in the hall, you may just hear the subtly creepy whisper of He Who Must Not Be Named. From there, you enter the Great Hall.

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