Deathly Hallows, Chapter 31: The Battle of Hogwarts
In the Great Hall, McGonagall instructs the students about evacuating. When a Slytherin girl asks where Snape is, Minerva using the slang phrase, “done a bunk,” which causes all the houses except Slytherin to cheer. In other words we know the snakes are bad ‘uns because they like the Greasy One. Sorry. I don’t believe most of the non-Slytherin students either (1) hated Snape, or (2) blamed him for the way the school was run. That would require me to assume everybody in the wizarding world is as stupid and prejudiced as Harry and his allies. I’d be the stupid one if I believed that.
Voldemort uses a magical PA system to tell the school he doesn’t want to hurt anyone; he just wants Potter. If the Chosen Chump is handed over, everybody else will be left alone. Pansy points Harry out, but instead of handing him over, the whole school turns against Slytherin--because, as we know, there are no bigots or DE sympathizers in any other house. McGonagall orders the Slytherins to leave, and all of them go. Some of the Ravenclaws stay, as well as even more Hufflepuffs, and half the Gryffindors because they’re the coolest, bravest house of all, so of course more of them stay. *gag* How many more pages do I have to go now? Fewer than 150. I hope I can make it. I’m glad I’m not prone to nausea.
It’s nearly midnight, but Harry is still out to lunch mentally as he stands around goggling at everybody else organizing the defense of Hogwarts. McGonagall has to get in his face and remind him he’s looking for something! I’m now imagining a new version of Our American Cousin with Harry making a guest appearance on The Simpsons as he visits his slack-jawed yokel relatives in Springfield. “He had almost forgotten about the Horcrux, almost forgotten that the battle was being fought so that he could search for it: The inexplicable absence of Ron and Hermione had momentarily driven every other thought from his mind.” Granted, there aren’t that many thoughts in his head to begin with. And it’s not surprising that his friends’ absence would make it impossible for Harry to think, since they share that one brain between them. But it’s really conceited of him to think the entire battle is being fought just so he can look for the Horcrux. I somehow suspect the castle would have been defended even if Harry “Totally Awesome” Potter had never been born.
He continues to stand there dumbstruck until Minerva orders him to move, and he agrees dully, “Right--yeah--”
“He sensed eyes following him as he ran out of the Great Hall....” They’re probably attached to brains thinking, “Oh, Jeez, please tell me that’s not our only hope, or even our best hope. Please? Our whole civilization can’t rest on that dimwit, it just can’t.” It’s enough to make one think Snape might be right about the boy’s being a dunderhead.
Harry goes upstairs but can’t think what to do next. “Without Ron and Hermione to help him he could not seem to marshal his ideas.” See? See? Didn’t I say they shared a brain? There’s my proof! It’s canon, people!
Harry can’t figure out how a Slytherin could have found the Ravenclaw totem. Wow. That just--That’s a whole special level of stupid. That’s like saying only an Italian could find ancient Roman artifacts, or only a German could play Beethoven’s music, or--Wow. Not to mention that Harry is a Gryffindor, so by his “logic,” he is also destined to fail in his search for the diadem.
Harry sits and attempts to think. I say “attempts” because he hasn’t shown any great ability in that area so far, particularly since arriving at Hogwarts. He grasps Flitwick’s phrase “in living memory” and suddenly realizes that, if no one living has seen the crown, maybe he should ask someone dead, i.e., a ghost. He asks Nick who the Ravenclaw ghost is. She is conveniently on-site, and Harry recognizes her but doesn’t know her name.
Now come on. I realize Harry is so self-absorbed he doesn’t know the names of the other students in his year, even though he’s been around them for 5 years (ten months a year times six years). But Hogwarts has only a few ghosts, namely the House ghosts and Peeves. Would if really be too much trouble for him to know all of their names? If I lived in an ancient castle with ghosts, I’d be so thrilled to be around them, I’d make it a point to know, not just their names, but everything about them. I’d cross-examine them about their lives and times and write it all down. Imagine the stories they could tell! Rowling could have built mysteries around the ghosts, maybe not the main story, but mini-mysteries that would liven up the books. Think how much better HBP would have been if, instead of al that teen lust angst, we’d learned exciting facts about the history of one or more ghosts. But Harry is too incurious for that. Curiosity is, after all, a sign of intelligence.
Harry confronts the relevant ghost, who bears the bland nickname of “the Gray Lady,” like a million other ghosts, and despite all the ghosts having previously been described as “pearly white.” Maybe, like Severus and Harry’s underwear, she just needs a good washing. She thinks Harry wants the diadem to increase his intelligence; no doubt she’s 0long since figured out he needs all the help he can get. He tells her he needs it to defeat Voldemort, “or don’t you care about that?” Um, why should she, Harry? She’s dead. She’s been dead for a very long time. She’s no doubt seen Dark Lords and Ladies come and go many times. Hogwarts is still standing, still ineptly run, still virtually unchanged from her own time. It’ll still be there virtually unchanged long after everybody in this book is dust.
However, because Harry’s concerns are this universe’s concerns, she not only cares, she gets indignant at the suggestion she might not care. She admits she is Helena, Rowena’s daughter, and that she stole the diadem and ran away with it because she wanted to be greater than her mother. Hmmm. I wonder if Hogwarts was open when she was in school and if so, was she in Slytherin? Sneakiness and overweening ambition--i.e., getting above yourself--are (supposedly) hallmarks of that house, after all.
Helena adds that when Rowena developed a terminal illness, her last wish was to see her daughter one more time. Rowena sent to fetch Helena a man who had always loved Helena but whom she had refused. When Helena wouldn’t return with him, he killed her and then himself. He is the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s ghost, and his chains are a symbolic depiction of his guilt and repentance. Helena adds he’d better be repentant. Given that they’ve both been dead about 900 years, it speaks very badly of their mental health that they’re still stuck at this school trying to resolve their problems. It also speaks badly that, of all the thousands of students and faculty over the centuries, nobody has ever freed them, or at least attempted to, so they can go on to their afterlives.
What are they doing at Hogwarts anyway? Since they both died in Albania, their ghosts should haunt where they died, not the school where they met. Ghosts are one of the easiest supernatural tropes to write, but Rowling can’t even get them right.
Surely I’m not the only one to see Severus/Lily in this story. Severus didn’t kill Lily either directly or purposefully, but he acts as if he had. His life of slavery and misery is a kind of living death, and he is certainly weighed down by invisible, symbolic chains of guilt. And given what we know of Lily, she would probably be as unforgiving as Helena is, fan fiction notwithstanding.
Helena tells Harry she hid the diadem in a hollow tree. A hollow tree? OMG! The Keebler elves have it! That’s how they make those amazing cookies!
Uh oh, Harry’s in trouble now. They’re in contact with their British cousins, and they don’t approve of that slavery business. Sure, Harry’s been nice to the slaves, but he still owns one. The only one he “freed” didn’t belong to him anyway. Maybe Kreacher wouldn’t want to be freed, but he should be given the choice. You should’ve listened to Hermione, Harry. The know-it-all knew best after all.
Harry asks where this tree is and is told it’s in Albania. “Sense was emerging miraculously from confusion....” You’re right, Harry, it is miraculous when you understand something. In fact, I’m astounded you even know where Albania is, given how poor your education has been and how little you care about learning anything that doesn’t interest you.
Harry exhibits more mental power in this scene than he has or will in 99% of the book when he also realizes Tom Riddle was the last person Helena told about her history. Isn’t it convenient how he’s a complete dunderhead most of the time, including for the several scenes before this one, but when the book is nearly finished, he suddenly manages to figure out, all by himself no less, the very thing he needs to solve the mystery and find the Horcrux? *eye roll* Equally astounding is that a tree that existed 900 years ago with a valuable piece of jewelry stuck in it just happened to still be alive, jewelry intact, when Tom went to look for it. Of course, the elves living in it might explain that.
Harry “realizes” Tom hid the diadem in the castle. I put “realizes” in quotation marks because we already knew that; we just didn’t know which room it was in. That’s why HRH went to Hogwarts in the first place, for heaven’s sake! Most of your readers are kids, Ms. Rowling, not elderly adults with dementia. They don’t have short term memory loss. Harry starts wandering the halls, looking for a hiding place for the crown, when he literally runs into Hagrid and Fang, who have just been thrust through a window by Grawp. The three then start wandering together, when Harry has another brain wave (there are so few we can count them) and remembers putting a wig and crown on a bust. At last! He couldn’t have figured this out 60 pages ago?
He runs for the Room of Requirement, giving Rowling a chance to add atmosphere as he runs into various people. One of them is Aberforth, who castigates Harry for not keeping some of the DEs’ children as hostages. Harry correctly replies it wouldn’t have stopped Voldy; he doesn’t mention it might have stopped some of his minions. He adds Albus wouldn’t have done that, either. No, he’d just allow the entire countryside to be endangered by a werewolf, the school to be terrorized by bullies, and a child to be dumped on relatives who’ll abuse and neglect him. That’s all vastly superior morally to taking the children of enemy combatants hostage.
Harry finally encounters Ron and Hermione, who explain they went into the Chamber of Secrets to get venom-laden basilisk fangs to destroy the Cup Horcrux. Ron conveniently remembered what Harry said in Parseltongue two months ago to open the locket, although he had to make several attempts to get the Chamber to open. This is improbable but not impossible. It’s certainly far more plausible than Harry going from slack-jawed yokel to brilliant logician in the space of ten minutes. What’s really preposterous is that it’s now safe for Ron and Hermione to carry the venom-covered fangs of the serpent when they’re so toxic they were just used to destroy a Horcrux. Is there something you’re not telling us, Ron and Hermione?
They head back up to the Room of Requirement, where they find Granny Longbottom and Tonks have joined Ginny, the princess in the tower. Tonks runs off to her death to join Remus, Mrs. L to join the fighting, and Ginny leaves at Harry’s request, ignoring his injunction to come back in when he tells her to. Ron says the elves should be told to leave so they don’t die, which so thrills Hermione she throws down her fangs and throws her arms around him. They lip-lock, then leave the room with Harry.
When they re-enter, the hidden things are revealed, including “the Vanishing Cabinet Draco Malfoy mended last year with such disastrous consequences.” Because when the twins put Montague in it and gave him permanent brain damage, that wasn’t a “disastrous consequence.” Please excuse me while I barf.
The Room is filled with “objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students,” some of them in “fifty-foot mountains.” If Hogwarts ever needs money, it can hold one heck of a yard sale. Despite this multitude of mess, we’re supposed to believe Harry when he insists Tom thought he was the only person who could get into the Room. I can see where Tom might have thought it was extremely unlikely the diadem would be found, given the huge amount of junk hidden in the Room. And in a sane universe, i.e., one that did not bend itself to accommodate Harry Potter’s massive ego, that would be true. But this isn’t called the Potterverse for nothing.
Harry’s just found the diadem when Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle tell him to stop. They were conveniently in the hall and saw the Trio enter the Room. It’s nice to see Slytherins benefiting from Rowling’s penchant for making things ridiculously easy for her favored characters. Crabbe tries to Crucio Harry but is stopped by Hermione. When he sees her, he tries to AK her. Harry is so enraged at this that he--he--oh, I can hardly bear to write about such an atrocity--he tries to Stun Crabbe. That’s right. Amycus spits at a teacher Harry cares little about, and Harry Crucios him. Crabbe tries to KILL the girl Harry has been close friends with for six years, whom he regards as a sister, and he defends her with a Stunner. Could this possibly get any more stupid? Don’t answer that.
Malfoy and Goyle both lose their wands, and Crabbe tries to AK Ron. Hermione Stuns Goyle, while Harry stands around uselessly yelling. Despite a Crucio and TWO attempted AKs, NOBODY tries to take Crabbe out!
I’m sorry; I know HRH only shares one brain between them, but even someone with only a quarter of a brain should know that, when confronted by three enemies, you first deal with the one who’s trying to KILL you! The Trio’s rank stupidity allows Crabbe to cast Fiendfyre, which starts incinerating everything in the room. So much for that yard sale.
I have to say the imagery of the Fiendfyre, with the giant, sentient monsters devouring everything in their paths, is very well done. I even love that word, including the eccentric spelling: Fiendfyre. My favorite part was the description of the partying monsters: “...all around them the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration....” I don’t care if Rowling wrote that for the movie. That’s just great.
However, I’m annoyed by the animals used: Of course, we have to have snakes in there, as well as chimeras and dragons. Why are there no griffins or phoenixes? Gryffindor is the house of fire, and phoenixes are resurrected by fire. Those would be the most appropriate animals given the parameters Rowling herself has set up for this world. But no, because those are “good” animals, they can’t be used by the “bad” fire, although snakes can be, even though snakes are usually not considered “fiery.” GRRRRR.
Harry finds two brooms, and he jumps on one, while Ron and Hermione jump on the other. Since he’s the Designated Hero, Harry looks for the Evil Trio, figuring even they don’t deserve to die like this. He finally spots Draco holding Goyle; he takes Draco behind him, while Ron takes Goyle. Harry sees the monsters tossing the diadem into the air just before he leaves and rescues it from a fire animal--a snake, of course. I think the real reason for this dramatic rescue--of both the boys and the crown--is to give Harry one more moment of broom-related glory. Damn. I thought we were finished with quidditch.
They fly out of the room and right into the opposite hall wall. Because the story is winding up, nobody is even knocked unconscious, let alone killed, despite crashing face first into a stone wall. Crabbe is hoist by his own petard and killed by the Fiendfyre, but I can’t be sorry about that. Not because he tried to kill HRH, but because anybody stupid enough to set a huge fire in a confined space that he himself is in, and that’s filled with literally tons of flammable material, deserves to die. That’s called “thinning the herd.” The future gene pool will now be a little less polluted.
The Headless Hunt charges by to make their last bow, and the diadem breaks apart and screams faintly. Percy and Fred back into the corridor as they battle DEs, who still have their masks on, for some odd reason. It’s the final battle, people! Win or lose, everybody’s going to know who you are now. And those masks undoubtedly restrict visibility. Unless they’re spelled with protective charms, I don’t see the point of them.
Percy turns his opponent, who turns out to be the Minister of Magic, into a sea urchin. That sounds like a really cool spell; it’s another thing I’d have liked to see more of, as long as the spell isn’t Mare Urchinus, or something silly like that. I wonder, though: Since the minister is now a sea animal, does that mean Percy killed him, and in a slow and painful way? It really annoys me the way Rowling comes up with all these workarounds to keep the “good guys” from killing anyone directly, but their opponents end up dead anyway. On top of that, their deaths are often more painful and prolonged than they would have been if they’d just been AK’d.
Suddenly the hall explodes, and everybody flies through the air. When they land, Harry feels cold air and hears a scream. He gets up to find Fred is dead, “the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.”
I wonder if that rhyming name is how Rowling decided to kill him rather than George. I also wonder if she was making a pun with that “last laugh” line. In this case, he who laughed last did not laugh best. Then there’s the fact both he and Sirius died with a smile on their faces. *sob* Is--is that supposed to make us feel better that they’re dead, Ms. Rowling? Because it doesn’t! What noble young lives are here o’erthrown. *sigh*