A quick status update: Book 7 is out, and indeed was before I could finish the previous post. K’s copy arrived without fanfare, announced only by the heavy thump in the front mailbox, at 1:55pm CDT - right around the time I finished the crucial chapter “Horcruxes” in Half-Blood Prince. At 4pm, I finished re-reading book 6. And now I must wait for K. to finish the first reading of Deathly Hallows (for I cannot now imagine her stopping midway), which means I am partly tempted to drag out the process of analyzing book 6 and posting my predictions only before beginning book 7 for myself. So those of you who received your copies at midnight, or even by afternoon post, may be well along or finished before I begin. Ah well, we shall see how I manage.

I can more clearly remember anticipating book 6 versus all of its predecessors. Having just re-read the first 5 books, just as I have now with all 6, I was full of anticipation and eager to explore the unvarnished return of Voldemort in full force, the meaning of the Half-Blood Prince, and the identity of whoever was fated to die within its pages (although I had a sinking suspicion who it would be). Thus reading it was something of a struggle between my instinct to enjoy the story and the anxiety to rush through its revelations, rather like choosing between savoring and wolfing down a long-awaited sumptuous meal. The anxiety rather won out, and the eventual result was, in a word…disappointment.

This should have been expected. Hyping something up to fever pitch makes it almost impossible to satiate the expectations you have made for it. This effect is worsened when you have had copious time to dither over its arrival, and to overexert yourself in preparation. I have done in myself in the same way with the final Matrix movie, which was intended to answer so many meaningful questions and shied away from almost all of them; the first Star Wars prequel, which had so many years of nostalgia to justify, or even Return of the Jedi, with its sudden onslaught of ewoks; and most any beloved book turned into a movie, the Harry Potter series among them. I am sure many people have felt that hollow feeling at they reach the end of a particular book series, knowing that for all the build-up and investment, the conclusion could not possibly satisfy them. Of course, all of this trepidation applies in even greater amounts to the final volume, for which I did not even know at the time how long I would have to wait. And perhaps that is precisely what made the first reading experience so awkward - as the penultimate installment, Half-Blood Prince could only raise more questions, add more clues, and set the stage for book 7. It could not logically resolve any of the major quandaries or it would diminish the impact of the concluding title, which meant we were destined to be left panting at book’s end. And so it is somewhat disingenuous to blame book 6 for not standing up prima facie to scrutiny, any more than you could have expected a happy ending at the end of Fellowship of the Ring. As in that work, we must lose some of our protectors in order to heighten the struggle of the little against the great. So will we dread what seems must come into Harry’s life in order to set up his final confrontation with Voldemort.

With that buzzing at back of mind, at the time book 6 felt more like a sketchy outline of ‘must have in there’ bits held together with teenage soap opera, as if the bullet points of what the reader ought to learn were only lightly embroidered with story so as to string them together. Nowhere is this more sharply presented than in the sheer scope of Dumbledore’s involvement, and indeed the extent of his dialogue with Harry, who struggles with awkwardness at having hardly ever been alone with Dumbledore without a desk between them. With the economy of Dumbledore’s contributions over 5 years, this explosion of verbiage, confidence, and emotion shared with Harry is not only a bit overwhelming, but also serves to dilute somewhat his magnificent, yet previously enigmatic presence. The reason for all this becomes clear at the lightning-struck tower, since we have a finite window of time in which Dumbledore can impart all of his necessary wisdom and aspirations to Harry before he shoulders the tasks ahead. But at the very first, as they walk from the Dursleys, it seems offputting that Dumbledore should be, in a nutshell, talking so much.

Another unsettling change is in the book’s wraparound structure. In almost every preceding book, with the slight exception of Goblet of Fire, the story begins and ends at the same places - 4 Privet Drive and Platform 9-3/4. Book 4 began with the scene at the Riddle House, which worked as a sort of prologue, before familiarity returned, and the book ended at the Platform per usual. But it is not until the third chapter of book 6 that we revisit Harry, by which time we have already been plied with a gluttony of new ideas - the Prime Minister involved, Fudge sacked, Scrimgeour’s appointment, Narcissa’s despair, Bellatrix’s suspicions, Snape and Wormtail co-habiting, a secret plan, and the Unbreakable Vow. And even from the Dursleys, whoosh we go not straight to the Burrow but to the recruitment of an unsettling new personality, Horace Slughorn who styles himself an eminence grise (or in Heroes parlance, “the wind at the back of history”) with an eye to comforts. By the time Harry is deposited in the Weasley household, he has already secured special lessons with Dumbledore, and been encouraged to share the prophecy with his two friends. And the pace hardly slackens from there, although does at least begin to interject some counterpoint romance to offset the weighty concerns that seem to mount up inexorably throughout the book.

And for all of that, coming to the book now as a prelude to the imminent conclusion, with full knowledge of its contents, and with a sharper eye put to the directions included within, I daresay I find much more to appreciate in Half-Blood Prince. The disappointment of first discovery is diminished by knowing what hard knocks await, although in some cases this sharpens the empathic embarrassment when it looms (e.g. “not the Draco-Is-A-Death-Eater theory again“). The onrush of portents of Voldemort’s efforts are more intriguing now that I am seeking them out as precursors to book 7 instead of indications of what might occur later in book 6. And the foreshadowing of relationships yet to bloom is taken with a lighter heart now that I am reassured that they will arrive in due time. The book is still troubled by its middle child role, since it can only be expected to offer more questions than answers, but accepting that takes away some of its sting (as does knowing that the hopeful answers lie under the same roof, hours away). So with some bitterness sieved away, let us consider just what we learn in Half-Blood Prince.

The book, like the two before it, is not simply about its title. We learn surprisingly little about the selfsame Prince for most of the book apart from his/her prodigious gifts in both potion-making and inventing Dark magic (both of which, in hindsight, should have been dead giveaways). And while Severus Snape, the revealed Half-Blood Prince, does have a critical role to play in the story with his tangled skein of loyalties, the book is much more consumed with Voldemort’s past, and thus clues about his weaknesses, as well as the development of a number of significant relationships. Both are undoubtedly due for even greater prominence in the final year. Before we address each of those in turn, let us dispense with some of the lesser concepts introduced here, starting again with the Ministry of Magic.

The Ministry is clearly in disarray. Fudge has owned up, at least in part, to his own culpability in Voldemort’s return to power, insofar as he does belabor his dismissal when meeting his Muggle counterpart just before Scrimgeour’s arrival. We learn that the Death Eaters have begun committing large acts of public terrorism, such as destroying a bridge and causing such damage to the coast - with possible giant aid - that it has been mistaken for a hurricane. We also receive via Fudge the depiction of two exceptions to death - Voldemort himself, about which Fudge muses “is a man alive if he can’t be killed?”, and the Inferi, the wizard form of zombies or reanimated corpses. Finally, we get a great moment of dark comedy, when Fudge sighs at the Muggle minister’s insistence that as wizards, they must be able to do something to resolve these troubles: “the trouble is, the other side can do magic too, Prime Minister.” Once at the Burrow, Harry hears news of Arthur Weasley’s promotion to the awkwardly-if-precisely named Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Just by its existence, plus some examples from Diagon Alley, we know that wizardkind are not above capitalizing on tragedy and preying on fears for profit, as depicted variously in Camus’ The Plague, the mystery series Foyle’s War, and more cynically, innumerable historical efforts in government to sow FUD (Fear Uncertainty and Doubt) for political gain and profiteering.

Later the Minister himself visits the Burrow, under the thinly-veiled conceit of allowing Percy to visit his family for the holidays. Harry has wondered at Percy’s continued estrangement, although he hears of Dumbledore’s epigrammatic explanation, “people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right.” Mrs. Weasley, at least, does not wonder at the pretext, but shows clear joy at his appearance; Fred, George and Ginny show rather less accommodation. Still, the real reason for Scrimgeour’s appearance is to implore Harry’s aid in calming the public during a time of crisis. That is, despite the very real dangers of Death Eater activity, “to the wizarding community at large..it’s all perception, isn’t it? It’s what people believe that’s important.” Harry is not taken in by this in the least, and calmly retorts, “You’re making a Stan [Shunpike] a scapegoat, just like you want to make me a mascot.” The exchange ends with the evident continuation of a feud between the Ministry and Dumbledore, when the Minister asserts, “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” to which Harry adamantly agrees. While this particularly is no surprise, what is remarkable is how calm and collected he remains during this entire attempted rapprochement, never dissolving into rage, keeping his own counsel, and quite shrewdly intuiting the minister’s intentions before they are ever aired. All of this shows a striking contrast with Angry Harry of just a few months ago, when we left him turning the Headmaster’s office into a shambles. It also, if possible, serves later to draw Dumbledore and Harry even closer when they discuss this recruiting attempt back at Hogwarts.

Yet despite these tensions, the Ministry is clearly no longer the strict antagonist it was in Order of the Phoenix. The Order is still the primary protection for Harry and Hogwarts, but Aurors do escort the Weasleys and Harry to Diagon Alley. They are further offered as protection at year’s end, though rebuffed by Harry. And though Umbridge makes her mendacious appearance at the funeral, she no longer carries any real menace in her, still frightened as she is by the very presence of Firenze. While we cannot perhaps expect much real assistance from the Ministry in future, consumed as they are with maintaining a semblance of safety and order amid the growing threat of outright war, they appear at least to have been benched as an impediment to all that Harry must still undertake. And in one sense at least, I believe they still possess the key to Voldemort’s ultimate downfall.

We are introduced to a new Potions master, Horace Slughorn, whose appointment frees Snape to take his long-desired place as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. This should immediately tell us that Snape must be destined to leave Hogwarts by book’s end, having previously established that the DADA post seems to be jinxed, and confirming partway through that it is definitely so by Voldemort himself in retaliation for Dumbledore resisting his attempts to return as a teacher himself. Surely something so mundane as Snape returning to Potions after a year could not satisfy the running tally we have amounted so far! Meanwhile Slughorn proves to be driven by a curiously twisted motivation, interested not in glory for himself but in the reflection of it from others he cultivates. Like a Gibsonian cool-hunter (Pattern Recognition) or kingmaker, he seeks out with a remarkable intuition those students whose futures are potentially advantageous, generally “because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential” with the notable exception of Ginny, who is singled out for her fabulous and infamous bat-bogey hex, and Harry himself, now anoited the “Chosen One” by the Daily Prophet (and if a prophet calls you the Chosen One, how can they be wrong?). This proves not quite as important as the mere fact that Harry is able to continue studying Potions without an Outstanding O.W.L. towards his goal of becoming an Auror, but it does at least provide the setting for early sparks between Ron and Hermione, and a touching scene with Luna, who we learn from her trademark radical honesty misses the DA especially because “it was like having friends.” We also get a rare portrait of a Slytherin who venerates talent even among Muggle-born, albeit with some reluctance (his praise of Hermione seems genuine enough), who shows fear rather than delight at Voldemort’s return, and shares both the shock of Snape’s betrayal and the grief at Dumbledore’s death. Up to this point, we have never yet had reason to consider a Slytherin as worthy of anything categorically but suspicion or hatred.

Yet it is because Harry continues Potions - and because he did not anticipate needing to buy his own copy from Flourish & Blotts - that he has reason to come into possession of the copy of Advanced Potion-Making previously owned by the enigmatic but talented Half-Blood Prince. This in turn brings him into the favor of Slughorn, wins him the sample of Felix Felicis (deux ex machina in a test tube), reminds him of the antidote properties of a bezoar (which saves Ron’s life), protects him in part against love potions, teaches him levicorpus (his first successful nonverbal spell) and sectumsepra (which in turn teaches him regret), and earns him the chance to be compared to his mother instead of his father for a change. The curious luck potion Felix Felicis (both terms derived from Latin, like ‘felicity’, for happiness and good fortune), which used in moderation causes “all your endeavors tend to succeed,” enables at minimum the end of Ron’s relationship with Lavender so he can take up with Hermione; the end of Ginny’s relationship with Dean Thomas so she can take up with Harry; the consolation of Hagrid; the enticement of Slughorn to join them; the successful casting of a nonverbal Refilling Charm; further confirmation of Lily Evans’ goodness; and the critical unaltered memory on horcruxes, along with the timely return of Dumbledore to review it (for he returns an hour before the potion expires); and possibly the very survival of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny when the Death Eaters attack. Just how a single person imbibing a potion, however complex, can coerce the universe to act favorably to their advantage and specifically their happiness is a great wonder, although it has some parallels to notions of will-over-matter (from thelemic magick, “do as thou wilt shall be the whole of the law” to Timothy Leary’s “reality tunnels” and even to New Age cash-ins based on the Law of Attraction like current bestseller The Secret). At any rate, like the Time-Turner (which we learn, incidentally, was destroyed en masse at the end of OOTP), it does its job well but likely will not reappear for fear of undoing the seriousness of future obstacles.

We also receive confirmation or further deliberation on other aspects of past books.

• The protection implied by his staying with the Dursleys is confirmed to remain effective until he comes of age (conveniently at age 17, the beginning of book 7).
• The two-way communication between Harry and Voldemort is now blunted, as “it appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you” to Dumbledore’s satisfaction. Whether Harry is thereby shielded from Legilimency is unmentioned.
• The Order of the Phoenix indeed communicates via Patronus, as when Dumbledore previously sent ’something silvery’ to Hagrid’s hut in OOTP.
• With the full prophecy revealed, Harry finds himself contemplating that parallel world where Neville was the ‘chosen’ one, and how things might have turned out differently, just as he once imagined if his name had not come out of the Goblet of Fire. For our part, we can wonder what might have happened if Harry had taken the remaining Felix Felicis before embarking with Dumbledore to the cave of the locket, rather than leaving it with Ron, Hermione and Ginny on what seemed a fool’s errand to monitor Draco.
• Dumbledore discusses the predestination paradox invoked by Voldemort’s reaction to the prophecy, asking “If Voldemort had never heard of the prophecy, would it have been fulfilled? Would it have meant anything? Of course not! Do you think every prophecy in the Hall of Prophecy has been fulfilled?…Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! Have you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress?” This again echoes the message of V for Vendetta, succinctly put that “people should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people.”
• As for the collision of predestination and free will, he asserts, “the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything…in other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy!” So it is only because Voldemort believed the words, feared their meaning, and acted as he did that Harry must ultimately face him in the end. And then not because the prophecy says it must be so, but because Voldemort will not rest until it does, and so it is a choice between being hunted and “walking into the arena with head held high.”
• Trelawney shows remarkable accuracy in her wandering cartomancy, first with “conflict…an ill omen…violence…a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner” with Harry hiding just around a column, and then most ominously “the lightning-struck tower…calamity, disaster.” Dead on (if unhelpful).
• We get a frank assessment of the plight of the manic blood purist in the cautionary tale of Marvolo and Morfin, who exhibit that “vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins.”
• Answering an earlier speculation about why Harry was reprimanded for underage magic when Dobby levitated a pudding, the Ministry can evidently only “detect magic, but not the perpetrator.” This also happens to explain why Fred and George were able to do so much product research prior to their leaving Hogwarts, since under the roof of adult wizards, it is up to the parents to enforce this discipline.
• The role of Quidditch is again background, despite against strong odds awarding the Quidditch Cup to Gryffindor for a third time (while Harry sits in detention, no less). While the first was for Harry, and the second for Ron, this time is at once a context for Harry to show leadership, endure unwelcome popularity, and attempt impartiality, while serving to spark relationships (e.g. Cormac McLaggen, Dean Thomas as foils to Ron and Harry).
• Despite his cool reception of Minister Scrimgeour, Harry shows just as much stubborn prejudice towards Draco and Snape as ever, desperately trying to twist facts to fit his preferred theory of events where they are the cause of all the ills he experiences, e.g. “Harry clung to this notion, because it enabled him to blame Snape, which felt satisfying.” Yet this entire undercurrent of suspicion and dogged pursuit of their actions ultimately proves justified, as Draco is found to be not only the source of the cursed items but indeed working at Voldemort’s behest in the Room of Requirement. Snape, meanwhile, hardly looks trustworthy after killing Dumbledore and fleeing the grounds, sneering all the way while deflecting Harry’s desperate attacks. Still, Harry has found in himself the capacity to pity Draco, violently regret his use of sectumsempra, and observe Draco’s unwillingness to strike down a vulnerable Dumbledore. These are hard blows to take on a previously immutable hatred.

Moving on, a considerable portion of the book is taken up with both the superficial trials and deep bonding of many relationship formed or strengthened over the year, which serve to connect the characters in ever more powerful ways while also reminding us how so many differ from the notable loner in Voldemort. Perhaps least expected is Pansy Parkinson tenderly caressing Draco in the Hogwarts Express, and Moaning Myrtle consoling him as he struggles with his appointed secret task. We learn that “he’s sensitive, people bully him too, and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings and cry!” This humanizing effect both provides us with a means to pity, if not empathize with his predicament, as well as distancing him from the Death Eater ideal of pitiless, unemotional servitude. Luna Lovegood further endears by announcing Quidditch, showing great affection for the DA and sincere gratitude to Harry for inviting her to Slugworth’s party, and helping Neville at Dumbledore’s funeral - Neville and Luna also being the two other members of the DA who respond to defend Hogwarts. Neville in turn receives powerful reassurance by Professor McGonagall, “it’s high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she’s got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have.” After Luna points out that the giggling girls think he out to be sitting with cool people, Harry further display his regard for them by insisting “you are cool.” Harry’s offhand joke about Madam Pince and Argus Filch seems to bear out at the funeral as well. Hagrid is reunited with Madam Maxine, and has brought about a remarkable change in Grawp. And the question of Tonks’ changed patronus, mousy appearance, and general misery seem finally resolved as she sits with Remus Lupin, hand in hand (Snape’s taunt that “the new one looks weak” seemingly forgotten).

On a grander scale, we have some of the most poignant moments of the series with three other pairings. The least of these from a character standpoint, yet for me outsized in impact, is the engagement of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. First hinted at in Goblet of Fire, when Fleur gazed at him with great interest, and then transferred to Gringotts to “work on ‘er Engleesh,” her presence and pretention at the Burrows is a source of great aggravation to all the other witches. She is particularly trying on Ginny, who feels she is lectured like a child, while Mrs. Weasley suffers her running commentary on food, music, and everything else she feels is substandard except, of course, for her beloved Bill (who seems quite content to be fussed over). We leave her after the Christmas holidays and hear nothing more until after Fenrir Grayback’s ravaging of Bill during the Death Eater assault on Hogwarts. It is in the hospital ward that Mrs. Weasley laments at Bill’s disfiguring, and the presumed end to his impending marriage. Fleur is incensed, “It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!…What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave!” And at a stroke, she is redeemed. Also, I need a tissue. Ahem.

Those stalwart, bickering compatriots of Harry also finally get their time together, although not without some drama (and what is teenage romance if not ceaseless drama?). We have had hints of Ron’s jealousy going back at least as far as Goblet of Fire and particularly the Yule Ball, preparing for which he declares that “hey, Hermione, you’re a girl…” which earns him a venomous, “Oh, well-spotted!” Ron mopes throughout the dance, reverses his good opinion of Krum (a mental gymnastic aped by Harry while watching Cho with Cedric Diggory), and ends up in a blazing row at the Common Room with the ultimate declaration, “Well next time, you know what to do, don’t you?” Yet come year 6, Ron has clearly not yet learned this lesson. He shows early signs of irritation that Hermione seems to be getting on well with Harry (to the delight of some readers still hoping for their hook-up, no doubt), including my personal favorite: after Hermione finishes explaining why Harry is so much more fanciable now - “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially. Fortunately for Ron, his merits have not gone unnoticed by a giggling Lavender Brown, who introduces him to the delights of snogging, probably to the great relief of Ginny, who he has been hounding for switching partners and calls him on his snog-free history. This despite Hermione’s implied intervention at the Quidditch trials to keep Ron as Keeper by Confunding Cormac McLaggen, and her clear distress at their flouting physicality. She responds in kind by inciting Ron’s jealousy, inviting the oafish Cormac McLadden to the Slughorn party at some cost to her dignity, prompting “Harry…to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.” Harry is now put in the position as go-between previously delegated to Hermione when he and Ron were not speaking up through the first task at the Triwizard Tournament. The gift of a gaudy charm bracelet seems sufficient to break Lavender’s spell (so to speak) come Christmas, however, revealing that they “don’t talk much” and thus do not seem to have discovered much else in common other than base attraction. Ron makes good use of his own poisoning to avoid her, but it takes the intervention of the Felix potion to finally drive the wedge between them, simply by having her confront him standing with Hermione. This seems to clear the way nevertheless for their dating, despite Harry’s insightful concern, “what if Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it?” So far, at least, they seem much more solidly together despite the demonstrative lack of that “filthy hypocrisy” earned with Lavender according to Ginny.

And then we have Ginny herself. If Order of the Phoenix hinted at her merits, Half-Blood Prince is quite content to dispense with the subtle and go with the outright declaration. Already by the time they ride the Hogwarts Express, Harry has come to expect spending time comfortably with her and feels a “strange twinge of annoyance” when she joins friends from her own year, noting that “long red hair dancing behind her.” She is the only person invited to the first Slughorn gathering purely on ability, and when Harry stows away in the Slytherin compartment, no less an authority than Pansy Parkinson declares, “a lot of boys like her…even you think she’s good-looking” to Blaise Zabini “and we all know how hard you are to please!” My favorite hint comes in the first Potions class, when the smell that Harry cannot identify from Amortentia, the strongest love potion, proves to be Ginny’s scent, as when “he caught a sudden waft of that flowery smell he had picked up [in class].” From there the hints become even less veiled, and Ginny ever more accomplished and desirable, until Harry is wrestling with the jealousy monster and intoning to himself, “Ron’s sister. She’s out-of-bounds.” And so it goes until at last, returning from an anxious detention that causes him to leave his Quidditch team without its captain (and potentially reunite Dean with Ginny), we find that even the Gryffindor password Quid agis? (loosely either “how are you?” or “what’s happened?”) radiates tension. Then Ginny is running toward him with a “hard, blazing look in her face” and it happens. Time stops, then resumes long enough for Harry to confirm that Ron is not about to clock him, before “a long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which - if they had time - they might discuss the match.” After this we get a few glimpses of Harry’s bliss, such as the utterly casual way that Ginny sits leaning against his legs in the common room, plus her ability to console him, as when she leads him away from Dumbledore at the foot of the tower. Finally we must face that noble instinct of putting off the girl, as we should have expected from Spider-Man and Peter Parker’s own fiery-red-haired love interest. “It’s for some stupid, noble reason, isn’t it?” she asks, but seems resigned, “I knew this would happen in the end.” I can try to pretend this is not devastating to my hopes for Ginny, but does at least offer one way out of what is otherwise a major conflict in my predicted outcome.

Before turning to the final clues about Voldemort, we should perhaps take a moment for a rather acrimonious relationship, that of Dumbledore and Snape. As is frequently repeated, everyone accepts that Dumbledore trusts Snape’s loyalty to the Order absolutely, and thus the rest take it on faith. Yet we face a much different Dumbledore in book 6 than before, one who is weakened (his withered hand), appearing older and more careworn, and one more cognizant of his own limitations. Snape himself plays on this in reassuring Bellatrix, “you overlook Dumbledore’s greatest weakness: He has to believe the best of people.” The previously virtuous capacity for giving people second chances where others shun them - Hagrid, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin - does have its flip side, that it can blind him to the true malevolence within those who are not repentant. We see through his own memories that he was at some level instrumental in bringing Voldemort to power, where “here, again, was Dumbledore’s tendency to trust people in spite of overwhelming evidence that they did not deserve it.” But at least he is not unaware of this potential failing, as he first described to Harry in explaining why he withheld the prophecy so long, and now when he says, “in fact being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.” Does this mean he was wrong to trust Snape, because of this willingness to believe that people could always change for the better? What evidence do we have as to why Dumbledore is so certain, in the face of so many suspicious activities that Harry relates? We have at least the one recollection, “you have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he returned.” What could drive Snape to feel such remorse? After all, he loathed Harry’s father, and certainly does not seem to hold any great regard for Harry himself. Yet we have a few clues that it is Harry’s mother that makes the difference. We know per Professor Slughorn that she was a genius at Potions at a time when Snape was devoted to the subject. We have seen her come to Snape’s defense in his worst memory, out of general decency, even though he repudiates her as a Mudblood. And we have heard, again from Slughorn, that Lily was tremendously caring as well as gifted. So perhaps it is the death of Lily Evans, a person of some importance to Snape, that has so invigorated Snape to turn away from Voldemort’s service. Perhaps indeed he made another Unbreakable Vow with Dumbledore to demonstrate his penitence and commitment. And now we have one other instance of Snape evidently showing concern for others, in his accepting the Unbreakable Vow - at the peril of his own life - to protect Draco at Narcissa’s urging. As with Draco, any kind of sympathy or caring for others is at odds with the aims and practice of Voldemort, and provides a defense against which he has no recourse.

Next we have the story of Voldemort’s life and his quest for horcruxes. These are clearly so critical to the final book that one might even summarize the series thus far as Hannah of Swindon does:

“By the way, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore halfway through book six, “a prophecy says that you alone can defeat evil Lord Voldemort. That’s why he keeps trying to kill you. You must destroy all seven pieces of his soul, and you’ve got one book left to do it in. Don’t expect any help from me; I’ll be dramatically murdered in two chapters’ time. Besides that, there’s exams to pass and hormonal stirrings to contend with. Now do you wish you’d gone to that Muggle comprehensive?”

To start, we learn that Tom Marvolo Riddle had a most unauspicious conception - the result of a love potion on a Muggle by the heartsick, downtrodden Merope Gaunt, and the last of the Slytherin line. Rendered to a careless orphanage, Tom grows up cruel, isolated, and awed by his growing abilities to manipulate others. The depiction of him before he leaves for Hogwarts is eerily akin to that of a young Peter Wiggin from Ender’s Game, barred from Battle School for precisely those qualities that Dumbledore finds disturbing in the young Tom. A classic sociopathic personality, Tom learns to veil his true feelings behind a handsome mask of flattery and manners and slowly gathers knowledge and followers during his time at Hogwarts. He takes advantage of his duties at Borgin & Blotts to acquire artifacts of Dark magic as well as heirlooms like the cup of Hufflepuff and Slytherin’s locket, which might have been his own heirloom. By the time he returns to Hogwarts to attempt the position as DADA teacher, his face has been transfigured by his quest into the Dark arts, and when Dumbledore - who exhibits extensive intelligence of his actions and motives - refuses to appoint him, it follows that “we have never been able to keep a DADA teacher for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Volemort.”

Voldemort’s fear of death continues to show itself as he searches for his ancestry, for he initially dismisses the idea that his mother could have been magical, for she “could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.” (Dumbledore opines that really, “it is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.”) Voldemort’s quest for immortality inspires him to wheedle the secret of horcruxes out of Slughorn, “a Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul…you split your soul…splitting it…by an act of evil, the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage” (cf. Philip Pullman’s Golden Compass and using the explosive energy from severing the bond between human child and daimon to open a gateway between worlds).

He then attempts that which no wizard before ever had (as he had boasted in the graveyard at the end of Goblet of Fire) - split his soul not just in half, but into seven parts - for “isn’t seven the most powerfully magical number?” He lets his arrogance choose the vessels for these soul fragments by their own importance, such as the artifacts of the four Hogwarts founders, and reserving the act of creating them to important deaths, including the attempt on Harry. Yet “Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents’ house with the intention of killing you. He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that…I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death.” This, along with his fear driven by the prophecy, may prove his Achilles’ Heel. We hear Dumbledore’s conjectures on just where these soul fragments may have ended up:

1. Riddle’s diary (destroyed in Chamber of Secrets)
2. Gaunt’s ring (destroyed by Dumbledore, at the cost of his hand withering)
3. Slytherin’s locket (possibly destroyed by RAB)
4. Hufflepuff’s cup
5. something from Gryffindor (only the sword is known) or Ravenclaw
6. Nagini - “to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business”
7. Voldemort’s current body - “that seventh piece of soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Volemort must attack - the piece that lives in his body”

As for the “power that the Dark Lord knows not,” we have it confirmed that this is indeed love - “‘So when the prophecy says that I’ll have ‘power the Dark Lord knows not,’ it just means - love?’ asked Harry, feeling a little let down.” When Voldemort calls him on this, saying “nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore” his reply is simply “perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places.”

Despite all his wisdom and power, Dumbledore does not survive the trap set at Hogwarts when they fire the Dark Mark above the Astronomy tower. At first reading, this really came as no surprise, and thus did not have as dramatic an effect as some of the uncertain romantic entanglements. But some curious things happen that reinforce ideas, excite hope and raise further questions. First, Dumbledore acts to protect Harry at his own expense - “the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself,” consistent with his emphasis on love of others, and self-sacrifice. Second, he is clearly concerned for Draco’s welfare at the risk of his own and convinced of his innocence, “Draco, you are not a killer.” Third, he pleads with Snape, which enrages him, but never says what he wishes. Finally, the depiction of Avada Kedavra is unlike any previously described. This is reason enough for some to postulate how the entire event was staged, and thus preserve Dumbledore life. I think the evidence is against this, at least as Rowling sees fit to include:

• We hear Fawkes’ lament.
• We see Dumbledore’s body at the base of the tower.
• McGonagall enters the Headmaster’s office, as compared when Umbridge was declared Headmaster by the Ministry and was barred from it. This has several alternate explanations (McGonagall is already deputy headmistress, Dumbledore could have expressly locked it against Umbridge) but it does set the scene.
• We see Dumbledore’s portrait.
• Fawkes leaves the school - “And he knew, without knowing how he knew it, that the phoenix had gone, had left Hogwarts for good, just as Dumbledore had left the school, had left the world…had left Harry”

Could all of this have been staged? Certainly, if you allow for an elaborate multi-stage deception. We know that the Killing Curse requires powerful magic behind it, as Moody says in Goblet of Fire, and Snape is shown to be particularly adept at nonverbal spells, so the Avada Kedavra could have been faked along with another spell pushing Dumbledore off the roof. Dumbledore is a master at Transfiguration, so conjuring up a corpse double would not have been too difficult - indeed, that may be what he means when he offers Draco, “Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine” and goes on to suggest that all will think himself and his mother dead. Fawkes has saved Dumbledore several times before, such as helping him escape Fudge’s Aurors and eating a Killing Curse bolt. So the means are there if the intent is for Dumbledore to simply lay low, draw Voldemort out, then triumphantly return. Except…that would totally devalue his death and apparent sacrifice here. By the same logic as Sirius remaining dead, Harry must face the ultimate challenge of Voldemort without recourse to expert adult aid. This is further emphasized as Harry himself realizes, “how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort.” If Dumbledore is just waiting off-camera, this has no significance, and Harry is never really expected to stand on his own two feet and fulfill the prophecy. Plus his real sacrifice can have the same effect as far as confirming Snape’s loyalty to the Dark Lord, protecting Draco from disfiguring his soul, and luring Voldemort from hiding. I think that is why we get so much more of him in this book, to make up for his total absence in the future except as inspiration and, who knows, some small role via his portrait (who knows where else they may be posted).

Finally, here are the questions I took down as raised during book 6, and whether they are adequately addressed:

• When Narcissa first discusses the ’secret plan’, does Snape truly know it?
  At first this seems uncertain, but later he gives more and more away that suggests he knows at least some of the aims. Yet once he accepts Narcissa’s Unbreakable Vow (after some hesitation), he spends a lot of time hounding Draco to let him help, yet Draco will not confess what precisely he’s doing. So it is still possible that Snape did not know the plan, guessed or used Legilimency on a distraught and thus unguarded Narcissa to draw enough details to convince her, then inferred the rest by the time he reached the tower.
• Does Snape fulfill the Unbreakable Vow’s 3 parts?
  By acting when Draco does not to kill Dumbledore, and thus protect him (as he also does when healing him from Harry’s sectumsempra), seems he does.
• What caused Dumbledore’s withered hand?
  Destroying Marvolo’s ring. This bodes ill for Harry if he has at least 4 to go.
• Why is Tonks seeking “tea and sympathy”?
  Distraught over Remus avoiding her.
• What is Tonks’ new patronus?
  A werewolf, presumably.
• What are all of Hermione’s classes?
  She gets 11 O.W.L.s, including 10 Outstanding and an E in DADA. But Ron and Harry are only taking 9 subjects total. She has dropped Divination, added Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, so the remaining one must be Muggle Studies (even though she said she was dropping it after the Time-Turner episode in Prisoner of Azkaban).
• What does Draco show Borgin to frighten him? Is he indeed marked?
  This is never adequately answered, although clearly he is acting in league with the Death Eaters. And contrary to complaints about his age, I doubt that Voldemort really cares whether a follower has gotten his N.E.W.T.s or not.
• Why do Snape and Dumbledore argue?
  This goes to the heart of what side Snape is really playing on, and how willingly he has been serving the Order. It is also possible that Dumbledore did not know that Snape has agreed to the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa, which certainly changes the consequences for Snape if Draco does not succeed.
• Does Harry adequately command Kreacher in tailing Draco?
  Nothing is said about Kreacher betraying him or the Order again, but that doesn’t mean he could not have played some other role.
• When Crabbe and Goyle were lookouts, where does Draco go?
  Room of Requirement, specifically where hidden things are stored, including the broken vanishing cabinet Fred and George shoved Montague into (Harry notices it when hiding the Half-Blood Prince’s book).
• Who sends the cursed items?
  Draco via Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse.
• What does Dumbledore see when he drinks the potion? “don’t hurt them…hurt me instead”
  It would follow that Voldemort would want to concoct a potion that had the maximum effect on the drinker, incapacitating them by making them either relive their most terrible moments (like distilled essence of dementor) or imagine their worst nightmares. For Dumbledore, as someone so committed to the students of Hogwarts and others in general, others being hurt when he could not aid them would be particularly terrifying.
• Who is RAB?
  Best working guess is Regulus Black (no middle name is given on the tapestry at 12 Grimmauld Place), who was a known Death Eater deserter.
• Since “one alone could not have done it”, how did RAB remove the locket? Only a single wizard is supposed to be able to manage the boat.
  Assuming it was Regulus, as a member of the Black family, he would have been able to command Kreacher to assist him (although asking Kreacher for help defying the Dark Lord seems like a good way for someone else to hear about it afterwards).
• Was the Slytherin locket destroyed?
  The note by RAB says that it will be, but we did see a mysterious locket in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, and Kreacher has been known to collect family artifacts in the boiler room…
• Did the Dark Mark mean someone had been killed at Hogwarts?
  Not at the time. It was a trap to lure Dumbledore, and he was (apparently) killed, as was a Death Eater
• Why does Dumbledore say “Severus…please”?
  A very good question. It is entirely unlike Dumbledore, who has no fear of death, to beg for mercy or to be spared. That he was begging Snape explicitly to kill him, either out of some greater plan or to protect Draco, is a strong possibility.
• Who were the “two bodies lying there, lying facedown in a pool of blood”?
  Never identified, but only a Death Eater and Dumbledore have been confirmed as dead, along with Bill Weasley’s maiming by Grayback.
• Why so much emphasis on nonverbal spells - “some wizards, like Dumbledore, could perform spells without speaking” and Snape’s “blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!” - if they play no real role in the story?
  Harry does successfully cast Levicorpus and a Refilling Charm nonverbally (the latter only due to the Felix effect), but as clearly seen in the running duel with Snape, calling out spells puts you at a serious disadvantage. If Harry has to face Death Eaters and Voldemort himself in book 7, it’s highly unlikely he will get something like Petrificus Totalus out in time to be effective (he can’t even muster up a Crucio without Snape mocking him).

“And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.”

Vital Stats
Pages: 652 (Scholastic Hardback)
Chapters: 30
Starts: Prime Minister’s Office
Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher: Escapes Campus After Murdering Headmaster
Dumbledore Explains Everything In: Headmaster’s Office
House Cup: unspecified
Exams: postponed
Ends: Beside the lake at Hogwarts

Final Score: Harry - 3, Voldemort - 3