Deathly Hallows, Chapter 11: The Bribe
Oh, crap.
This may be my most hated chapter in this book. Given the stiff competition, that’s saying something. Let me check my supplies.
Silver bullets? Check.
Semi-automatic rifle? Check.
Telescopic laser sight? Check.
OK. Cover me, people. I’m goin’ in.
This is another chapter with a strange picture at the beginning. Mary GrandPrè’s drawing of Remus makes him look older and more worn than my 88-year-old mother. She’s never had plastic surgery, so that’s ridiculous. I know the guy’s had a hard life, but come on!
Harry has now been convinced of the superior magical powers of house elves: Since Kreacher was able to escape the Cave of Death and live when even SaintlyIdol! Dumbledore couldn’t, Harry believes Kreacher will be able to find and retrieve Mundungus in short order.
It doesn’t turn out that way. The Trio waits three days, during which time they have little to eat besides moldy bread, a detail that adds a nice fairy-tale feeling to this part of the story. I was wondering what they’d been eating, since they didn’t have the foresight to bring groceries with them, and Kreacher would have no reason to keep the house stocked with a lot of food when he’s there by himself.
HRH notice DE spies in the street outside, but their enemies are not able to get into the house. They decide Snape must have been restrained by the Tongue-Tying Curse, or he would have told his cohorts about the house. This raises an interesting question: Does this curse only prevent one from talking, or from any kind of communication? Could Snape betray the Order by writing or in some other way? I’m now imagining a DE game of charades as Snape acts out the phrase, “Order headquarters 12 Grimmauld Place.”
After three days the tension (and hunger) is getting to everybody. In trying to escape a RW/HG spat, Harry heads for the kitchen to see if Kreacher has returned yet. He hears somebody at the front door, and a cloaked figure enters and is confronted by the Dust Bunny from Beyond the Grave. When the figure assures the apparition of its innocence, the Dustledore explodes into a gray cloud so dense Harry can’t even see the person entering. So if the Blacks had been better housekeepers, this trick wouldn’t even work? Kreacher has a lot to answer for!
I also find it interesting that the DBfH explodes as soon as the person entering the house proclaims hir innocence. Is it able to tell if someone’s lying? Would it even work on Snape, since he killed Dumbledore only because he was browbeaten into it by the “victim”? That is, if the charm is predicated on the assumption that Snape is a ruthless, willing murderer, would it work if the “killer” regarded himself as innocent? In a very real sense, Snape is innocent of Dumbledore’s murder because of his reluctance to kill the evil geezer. I referred to Scumbledore’s death as “suicide by Snape” in my article “Chaos a Hundred Times.” If Snape saw himself not as a killer, but merely as an instrument of suicide, would that absolve him of the accusation charm’s effects? What if the killer were a psychopath who felt no guilt, or someone who considered the death justifiable homicide? No matter how you cast it, this spell is one dumb and ineffective “protection.”
Harry orders the visitor not to move, which causes the curtains to open on Walburga’s portrait, and she starts screaming invective again. Since she can be silenced by closing the curtains over her picture, why doesn’t somebody just put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the curtains so they’ll never open again? Oh, right. These are people with more magic than sense.
The invader turns out to be Remus, who proclaims his innocence in a run-on sentence phrased in a way that proves him to be a graduate of the Albus Dumbledore School of Pomposity: “I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder’s Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag.” As others have pointed out, this statement contains no information that could not have been obtained by any number of people, so it really proves nothing about the identity of the speaker.
Lupin tells the Trio he’d have arrived three days earlier, but he had to evade the DE tailing him. It took him three days to do that? It’s no wonder Harry is so incompetent, with losers like this teaching him. I’m now wondering if Albus’s real plan was to educate Harry so poorly he couldn’t help but get killed by Voldemort. No wonder Albus spiked all of Snape’s attempts to make Harry a competent wizard; that was never the purpose of Harry’s education at all.
Lupin has brought butterbeers but no food, another fine example of wizarding impracticality. Good thing the beers are nonalcoholic; these people are loopy enough already.
Remus confirms the Trace could not still be on Harry, or the DEs would know he was in 12GP. He also tells HRH the Ministry and the DEs are now pretty much the same thing. This will make all those right-wingers happy who believe the government is inherently evil and out to get them. He adds that Scrimgeour supposedly allowed himself to be tortured to death rather than reveal Harry’s presence at the Weasley wedding.
Remus tells them the DEs have been going after every Order member they know about, trying to get info on Harry’s whereabouts. I found the following remarks, as Sherlock Holmes once said in a different context, very suggestive: “...they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks’s family...They’re all right--shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay.” Look at that cold-blooded phrasing--why, it’s so heartless, it sounds like something that horrible Snape might say! Lupin doesn’t sound like he even knows the Tonkses, let alone is related to them by marriage. Far more natural phrasing would have been, “my in-laws, Ted and Andromeda” instead of “Tonks’s family.” And why is he referring to his wife by her last name? I know she hates her first name--understandably so--and most people call her by her surname, but her husband is not “most people.” Surely he could come up with some affectionate nickname just for him to use. Unless--
Lupin also sounds largely indifferent to Ted and Andromeda’s suffering. They were tortured, for heaven’s sake, but he shrugs off the aftereffects of their agony by describing them as “shaken...but otherwise okay.” Put Lupin’s callousness together with the Tonkses’ disinterest in his well-being after the Seven Potters Fiasco, and it becomes clear these three tolerate each other only for the sake of ‘Dora.
Lupin confirms the DEs got through the heavy-duty protection charms on the Tonks residence because their being in charge of the Ministry allows them to “go nuclear” on anybody they want and get away with it. Remember that. It’ll come up again soon.
The story being fed to the public is that Harry is wanted for questioning in Dumbledore’s murder, so the authorities have to do whatever is necessary to find him. Supposedly people don’t know what’s really going on because the bad guys have also taken over the Daily Prophet.
Since it worked in Charity Burbage’s case, Scrimgeour’s death is also being reported as a “resignation,” and Pius Thicknesse is his Imperiused replacement. Voldy didn’t become Minister himself because having a front man allows him to run around doing the fun stuff, like torturing and killing people, instead of being stuck behind a desk be secretly in charge without provoking open resistance. Remus describes this tactic as “very clever” and “a masterstroke.” Maybe if you’re a dimwitted magical. Those of us with IQs in three digits would not consider it so brilliant, particularly if we were familiar with the history of Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu.
Remus then tells the Trio about the plot to round up “muggleborns” and accuse them of “stealing magic.” I’m now imagining how much fun it would be if this were true, and Filch were suddenly given back the magic that had been stolen from him. A bratty Hogwarts student hexes Filch for a laugh, thinking he can’t fight back. Little does the brat know he’s had a magic transplant! He whips out his wand and yells, “Crucio! Take that, you wanker!” As the student writhes and screams in agony, all victims of bullying stand up and cheer at this long-delayed justice.
Ron gallantly offers to protect Hermione by claiming her as his cousin and teaching her his family tree. Just what the magicals need: more cousins marrying and reproducing. It wouldn’t work, anyway, since her existence is common knowledge.
Voldemort does something that really is intelligent by making attendance at Hogwarts compulsory for all magical children--as long as they can prove they have magical relatives. This allows him to brainwash kids from an early age. You can bet Albus is kicking himself in the beyond for not getting the Wizengamot to pass this law years ago.
Remus then gets to the real reason for his visit: desperately trying to escape his manly familial obligations offering to help the Trio in the Horcrux hunt. Lupin assures them he could “provide protection” while remaining ignorant of what they are seeking. There can be no doubt Lupin is offering his alter ego’s assistance: He tells them, “You know what I am and what I can do.” He wouldn’t be expressing himself so delicately if he were referring to his abilities as a wizard. Only his shame about his “furry little problem” would make him speak so obliquely. I’m now imagining Snape gaping open-mouthed at this offer, then falling out of his chair laughing insanely at the idea of an unmedicated werewolf being of assistance for anything.
Harry quite sensibly can’t imagine how they could keep Remus in the dark if they were all living and researching together. While he’s still thinking, Hermione proves her chick street cred by asking about Tonks. This is where the conversation gets really weird.
“What about her?” said Lupin.
“Well,” said Hermione, frowning, “you’re married! How does she feel about you going away with us?”
“Tonks will be perfectly safe,” said Lupin. “She’ll be at her parents’ house.”
This is the same house in which Ted and Andromeda were tortured by Death Eaters!
This must represent J K Rowling’s nadir as an author regarding logic and consistency. Previously she had contradicted herself between books. In DH she contradicts herself in the same book, in different chapters that take place on different days, by having Hermione mind-rape her parents one day, then declare, “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies doin’ memory charms, Miz Scarlett Ron and Harry,” two days, three chapters, and 71 pages later (pages 96 and 167, respectively). But in this case, we have Remus contradicting himself, within the same conversation, in the same chapter, after only five pages (206 and 211)!
Please pardon my Anglo-Saxon and irreligiosity, but: Jesus Fucking Hosanna Christ! Do you have no self-respect, Joanne Rowling? Do you have no respect for your readers? This is such blatant idiocy it is insulting to the intelligence of even your youngest child readers.
P T Barnum’s famous saying needs to be updated for this fandom: There’s a sucker born every minute, and a J K Rowling to take ‘em. These sucker sycophants think we critics of the books are terrible meanies throwing tantrums over nothing. No, we just haven’t had the word STUPID surgically implanted on our foreheads in gen-you-wine fool’s gold.
The narration continues, “There was something strange in Lupin’s tone; it was almost cold.” Gee, ya think? Hermione takes the girl role again, being sensitive to the emotional undertones of the conversation as she hesitantly asks Remus if his marriage is in good shape. He “pointedly” replies everything’s fine. Then, “with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant,” he tells them Tonks is pregnant.
The Trio congratulates Lupin. He looks uncomfortable, with “an artificial smile that was more like a grimace,” then tries to turn the conversation by asking them if they accept his offer of help. Harry confirms Remus wants to abandon his pregnant wife to the care of her parents, and Lupin finally proves his status as a true Marauder by retelling a lie that is blatant, callous, selfish, and utterly shameless all at once.
“She’ll be perfectly safe there, they’ll look after her,” said Lupin. Yeah, in that same house where they were tortured just the other day. I’m now imagining James and Sirius giving him a standing ovation from beyond the grave, yelling, “Yay, Moony! We always knew you had it in you!” Meanwhile here on Earth, a complacent, knowing smirk steals over the face of Severus Snape as he leans over and silkily whispers into Harry’s ear, “I told you so.”
[Remus] spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. [Really? Just bordering on indifference?] “Harry, I’m sure James would have wanted me to stick with you.”
“Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.”
Lupin’s face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen must have dropped ten degrees. I wonder if that’s Fahrenheit or Celsius? Ron and Hermione look profoundly uncomfortable. Remus says Harry doesn’t understand, and Harry demands he explain. Remus swallows.
“I--I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment, and I have regretted it very much ever since.”
“I see,” said Harry, “so you’re just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?”
Lupin jumps to his feet and throws a tantrum. We’re supposed to believe he’s overcome with guilt and shame, but look at the way he speaks. Every sentence is about himself.
Although his dialogue is broken up by a couple of references to his behavior (indicated by ellipsis marks), I transcribe it here unbroken for effect.
“Don’t you understand what I’ve done to my wife and unborn child? I should never have married her, I’ve made her an outcast!...You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore’s protection at Hogwarts! You don’t know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don’t you see what I’ve done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only child to marry a werewolf? [Aww, come on, Remus. You’re being much too modest. There are plenty of reasons for people to hate you that have nothing to do with your disease. Your spinelessness, your selfishness, your ass-kissing...I could go on and on.] And the child--the child--...My kind don’t usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it--how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!”
This reads like a vocal exercise: me me me me me me me me me me me me me! It’s all about poor, suffering, guilt-ridden Remus Lupin: I feel bad about marrying Tonks. I have this horrible disease that makes people hate me. I’ve alienated Tonks from her family. I’ve cursed my unborn child with my disease. Even if I haven’t passed it on, it’ll be better off without me because it’ll be ashamed of me.
There is not one word about what ‘Dora wants or about what effect being totally rejected and abandoned by its father will have on the child. Not one!
We will now pause for an editorial reply in the form of a song from the band Everclear, “Father of Mine,” written by Art Alexakis, Craig Montoya, and Greg Eklund:
Father of mine,
Tell me where did you go?
Yeah, you had the world inside your hand,
But you did not seem to know.
Father of mine,
Tell me what do you see,
When you look back at your wasted life
And you don't see me?
Daddy gave me a name.
My daddy gave me a name,
Then he walked away.
Father of mine
Tell me where have you been?
Yeah, I just closed my eyes,
And the world disappeared.
Father of mine,
Tell me how do you sleep
With the children you abandoned...?
I will never be safe.
I will never be sane.
I will always be weird inside.
I will always be lame.
Now I am a grown man
With a child of my own,
And I swear I'll never let her know
All the pain I have known.
Daddy gave me a name.
My daddy gave me a name,
Then he walked away.
Hermione tries to smooth things over by assuring Remus no child would be ashamed of him, but Harry contradicts her: “Oh, I don’t know, Hermione. I’d be pretty ashamed of him.”
At this point I was cheering Harry, yelling, “YES! YES! YES! GIVE IT TO HIM! GO, HARRY!”
Harry in effect agrees with me about Lupin’s narcissism: He points out the child will be worse off without his father, since it’ll be a half-werewolf with an Order member dad. He also points out that since James died defending his family, he wouldn’t approve of Lupin’s abandoning his family to go adventuring. When Remus gets indignant, Harry accuses him of wanting to take up the mantle of Sirius the daredevil. Then he delivers the ultimate insult to a Gryffindor: He calls Lupin a coward.
Of course he’s a coward, Harry! You saw Snape’s Pensieve memory!
Lupin continues his tantrum by attacking Harry, then stomping out. Ron and Hermione castigate Harry, but he tells them, “Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”
Harry unfortunately backs down from his accurate assessment of Lupin’s courage, but justifies his truth-telling insult by saying it’ll be worth it if Remus goes back to Tonks.
The verdict is in on this character: Remus Lupin is a raging narcissist. He may be a “quiet” narcissist rather than a blatant one like Dumbledore, but his utter self-centeredness reveals him as one all the same.
I realize some commentators side with Lupin rather than Harry in this scene. They see his offer as being the kind of noble self-sacrifice men who are going off to war have always made to protect their families. This is clearly wrong. That is not my opinion. It is a fact based on the text. Nowhere does Remus say something like, “I really don’t want to leave my family, but I believe it’s necessary for me to make that sacrifice to defeat Voldemort and make the world safe for all children.” Everything he says is all about his feelings of regret about marriage and fatherhood and his desire to run away. Harry is absolutely right to call him a coward for not facing up to the family obligations he chose to take on.
It’s also been said that, since the marriage was a mistake, Lupin should just cut his losses. That is also an utterly selfish view. It is certainly true he should never have married Tonks, and even more true he should not have impregnated her. But having done so, it is his moral obligation to do everything in his power to be a good husband and loving father. If he can’t be a husband, he still is obligated to be a father. That child never asked to be conceived. A real man stands by his children, even if the marriage to their mother cannot be saved.
Of course, all this angsting is for nothing. The child can’t be Lupin’s. A man this weak and selfish clearly lacks the equipment to father children.
Rowling must have thought we needed to come down from the excitement of this argument by boring us with another infodump via newspaper. Figuring he can’t feel any worse than he does already, Harry finds out how wrong he can be by reading an article in the paper Lupin left. It’s an installment from Skeeter’s Dumbledore biography; the few paragraphs are another waste of space, telling us nothing we had not already learned in a far more entertaining fashion from Auntie Muriel. The next paper’s installment, about Albus at Hogwarts, sounds a lot more interesting, but of course we never get to read that. That would be too much fun.
Kreacher finally makes his dramatic return with Mundungus. Fletcher immediately starts whining about how he never wanted to be part of the whole Seven Potters thing, so he took off to save his own skin. Harry does the Gryffindor Thing and acts like cowardice is the worst sin in the world. After almost four pages, including some cartoonish whacking of Fletcher over the head by Kreacher wielding a saucepan, we finally find out what happened to the locket. Mundungus had to hand it over to some interfering woman who implied she’d take him in for illegal trading of magical artifacts if he didn’t give it to her. Rather than invent a new character, Rowling proves she’s a good liberal by recycling Dolores Umbridge.
I have to take up the cudgel on behalf of Mundungus Fletcher. He’s presented as a selfish, contemptible slimeball, but I don’t blame him for being the way he is. Everybody calls the poor guy “Dung,” for heaven’s sake! How could he not have a bad attitude? That’s called a self-fulfilling prophecy, people. If you call somebody “shit,” they’re going to feel like shit and consequently to act like shit. This is also another example of JKR’s childish obsession with doo doo jokes.
I have one more point to make about this chapter. It’s called, “The Bribe.” What bribe? Nobody offers to give somebody something, or do something for someone else, so they can get a benefit for themselves. The only possible reference can be to Fletcher’s giving Umbridge the necklace so she wouldn’t have him arrested. But that’s not a bribe; it’s extortion. I’d rather have a pompous chapter title than a nonsensical one.