Game of Thrones ain’t got nothin’ on the last of the Harry Potter series.
Let me backtrack. I’ve never read Game of Thrones. I’ve never watched the series. But I imagine that nothing in its pages will stab as deep as some of my favorite characters being slashed, zapped, and otherwise magicked out of existence. And I totally, most definitely, reserve the right to contradict myself should I ever delve into kings and dragons and drunk dwarves. And I totally, most definitely, sincerely, reserve the right to retract that statement should it be false and otherwise insensitive. I don’t know. I don’t know what it’s about.
But that’s not why we are here.
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Harry Potter was a huge deal when I was in grade school. Everyone who was anyone read the books and watched the movies and bought the merch and wrote the fanfiction and wrote the slashfiction…eh, you get it.
I was late getting on the train.
So, back up a bit more, I adored the movies, and my friends were all reading the books, so I tried to read them, too. Key note: tried. I read the first book by myself, but the second and part of the third, I had to use my own personal audio book: my mother. She would sit in the red, worn chair in the living room, and I would sit on the floor in front of her, and listen to her read to me aloud. This was during a time that I was “too old” to have my mommy read to me (shame on me for ever thinking that), but I had some problems comprehending what I read to myself. The words wouldn’t click well, and with the make-believe creatures and spells and odd names JK Rowling added into the mix, my head was spinning. Listening to it slowed me down enough to understand what was going on. It was nice. My mom is a pretty swell gal.
Fast forward a bit, I picked up the first Harry Potter again a couple years back for old time’s sake. And then the second. And the third. And I fell in love with the series for what seemed like the first time. Reading it as an adult is a completely different experience than reading/listening as a child. Ten-year-old me was enthralled by the magic in each installment. Twenty-nine-year-old me was floored by the way every book got a little darker, a little more serious. There was so much I didn’t pick up on the first go around.
Let me geek out for just a second.
Yule Ball. 2018.
Hi, my name’s Manda and I’m a Hufflepuff. Sorting hat said twice I belonged in Gryffindor, but if Harry can choose his house than so can I. I’m dating a Slytherin. My best friend is a Ravenclaw. I have a house elf that is well loved and treated better than anyone else in our home. His name is Dobby (no relation).
He doesn’t listen as well as a house elf though
I could keep going, but I’ll try to keep this one short. So many people have read this book already, so if you haven’t by now, this review probably won’t sway you either way. I’ll just go over a few points where I had to put the book down and think a while.
- The
Dumbledore Reveal
If the reader is anything like me, they had to take long breaks in book six during the emotional time that was Dumbledore’s final moments. I loved him. I thought nothing but good about him. He seemed so wise, so caring, so interested in helping Harry be the best he could be and mentoring him when needed.
And then book seven happened.
The Deathly Hallows took Dumbledore, wadded him up in a little ball, and shoved him in a toilet. Then, it took a gigantic shit all over the top of him.
And it did it all in the name of the greater good.
I had lots of strong feelings on this, as you can probably tell. But, despite that, I don’t disagree or hate on Rowling for doing it. I think it runs along the same lines as you should never meet your heroes. From a distance, Dumbledore seemed almost godlike in his wisdom and strength and love. But after he dies and the truth comes out, he’s not so godlike after all. Like any human, he has flaws, and his were pretty major in my ever so humble (and shitty) opinion. BUT! I don’t think he ever did anything with ill intent. I truly believe that he believed the way he handled everything was the best way to do it. He sort of runs along the lines of chaotic good. He doesn’t care who he hurts along the way, so long as that in the long run, it was for the best. He doesn’t hate Harry. He’s not priming him for war and death and nothing beyond that. I think he really did care about him and his well-being, but his shady way of keeping secrets and never being straightforward with Harry or anyone else didn’t help his cause. He was a bottom line man, and the bottom line was that for everyone else to live in harmony, Harry would have to die. Not a bad man, not a good man, but a man. - This
Passage
“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has it been happening inside my head?”
Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry’s ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
Oh. My god.
So, of course, we can take this in the literal sense; that Harry is talking to Dumbledore in his head yadda yadda. But this line means so much more to me than that.
On one end of the spectrum, the same can be said of mental illness. It’s in your head, of course, yes, great, grand, wonderful, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not REAL. Depression is a thing I deal with on my day-to-day, and even though it is in my head, it is real to me. Anxiety is in your head, but it still affects you. It’s invisible, you cannot see it, you cannot touch it, but it’s in your head, so it’s real.
On the other end, it can be said of fiction in general. When Dumbledore died at the end of the sixth book and made me bawl for fifty plus pages, it was not real. He is not real. But, in the pages, he is. He felt like a living, breathing person, and I felt his death the same as I would a person I knew. When Harry found out all the bad after his death, about his family and secret sister, about his plan for Harry, I felt betrayed, angry, hurt, that this person, this make-believe person, would lie to me like this. Good books make you feel, and the worlds inside the pages feel real to you, even if the rest of the world can’t see it.
I dunno, dude. I just loved this line. I had to flip the pages and breathe a little bit before I could go to the final battle. Dumbledore, man. I loved him. Then hated him. Then simply accepted him. - Snape,
Snape, Severus Snape
God. Damn. It.
Reading this entire series knowing the crucial role Snape played, I picked up on a lot that I don’t think I would have if I experienced it firsthand this read through. One point that really sticks out for me was from I believe book six? Maybe the end of five? Voldemort is back, and Snape runs off with the rest of the Death Eaters, and he won’t let Harry cast an unforgivable curse. He stops him every time, telling him to stay down. First go through, this could definitely be seen as a thing where he just wants to get away and stopping Harry is the most logical thing to do. But, and this is just my take (and it could totally be wrong or right because it’s been a while since I’ve read that part so bear with me here), I think Snape was trying to save Harry. He didn’t want him to cast the curse, and it wasn’t for Snape’s own good. He knew Harry had never done anything like that before, and he didn’t want him to carry the guilt on his shoulders. He was trying to spare him.
I feel for Snape, I really do. He was forced into a bad situation, playing sides and keeping secrets, all in the name of the greater good (side eyeing you HARD Dumbledore). He doesn’t really want to be with the Death Eaters, but he has no choice. He has to keep up appearances, get on the Dark Lord’s good side. At the same time, he doesn’t really want to be responsible for keeping Harry safe. The boy just serves as a painful reminder of what could have been but what never would be. It doesn’t help that he looks and acts like his father, but with the added pain of having his mother’s eyes. He doesn’t like Harry, but in his own way, he loves him.
That being said, I can’t pretend he doesn’t have his own flaws on this one. He doesn’t love Harry for Harry’s sake, but for his own. It’s the last piece of Lily that he’ll ever have. When she died, he didn’t care about James or Harry, only her, only that she was dead. Which I get it, I understand, he hated James and he hated that James won her and he didn’t, but like…come on, dude. There’s a time and place, and when they’re both dead on the floor, maybe put aside your differences for a hot minute? Maybe care about the little baby who lost their family and is forced to live in a freaking closet for half his life? Maybe show a little bit of humanity?
That also being said, I cared more for him by the end than for Dumbledore. I dunno, I guess because Snape was straight up about how he hated James and didn’t care much for a lot about Harry, but he loved and wanted Lily. Dumbledore played everyone along even when he didn’t have to.
So, how about that ending? Who was your favorite character? What house do you belong to?? Geek out with me. My inbox is always open.
Manda Kay Writes 