Harry Potter as a Litmus of your Soul

I think everyone already knows what I’m going to talk about, and if not, you probably belong in Slytherin.

Many of the omniscient internet spirits have long since spoken on how Harry Potter relates to being a good person (or not), but let me give my two cents as I watch my favorite movie of the series.

The Goblet of Fire. Number Four. The bomb diggity, to this day. It’s funny, because my sister’s favorite is the third, and that one is the one I hate most. Why make a movie if Voldemort isn’t in it?? Sirius Black was not my favorite person, I never trusted him even though I wanted to. No, Dumbledore is the best because he’s the most like God, McGonogall is the original bad ass before it was gender neutral, and awkward is real thing in this movie #puberty. Everyone who likes Hermione really hates her in this movie, but she was never my favorite, Harry was. I like the fact he had to choose with the sorting hat. I like the way he got all broken and sad when Dumbledore died and he had to pick up the pieces of his sanity, and above all things, he had to make it up as he went in this movie. Dumb boys and dancing, also true (of all ages). What else? There’s so much that is spot on. Wanting to fly and outracing dragons. Sacrifice for the greater good when it matters and keeping a low profile when it doesn’t. Ugly outfits and dress robes. Sleep loss and studying. The way society reacts to a young woman who is just trying to figure out what kind of boy she likes (Rita Skeeter, Ron, Hermione, and that fine piece of work, Victor Krum). I still think Ron is severely obnoxious, but I’m guessing that’s because on paper, I’m basically Hermione with less patience, especially lately.

However, I still think my favorite moment in the entire series was when Hermione is bitterly heart broken and Harry steps in and dances with her because Ron is out being a tool, and that was loooooooong before I could relate. Hahahha Mr. Finch and the cat. Classic.

I’m not sure if it was on purpose, but I think having the outfits of Cho and the Patil sisters based on their ethnicity takes the global appeal of this movie one step further (either that, or it’s kinda racist). I think it’s real life that they used a rock band about magic and ogres and what not to make it seem relevant.

Dang. The other Patil sister that wasn’t asked to dance, I feel ya girl. Ron just keeps being a dumb simmering ginger. I have never liked him, except in the end part where he was like, 40 and with the kids. That makes a lot of sense, actually. Huh. Harry just has to put up with all of it. Dang, they are going to rip each other into pieces. #Theendoffriendship. Yikes. OOOOHHH DANG HERMIONE. You get some, it was yours anyways, girl. Aww man she’s crying. Nobody wants to see that. Sad.

I really like the merpeople, I think JK Rowling did it right in making them ugly. Nothing is perfect, and if it was just like the Little Mermaid, the grass on the other side would be a little too green. Hermione always saves the day in terms of practicality and being like Mary Poppins, so I’m not surprised she takes this movie to be really emotional and confused while she sorts out her place in the universe and how much of the stereotypes to believe about Muggles or Wizards. She’s caught in a magnificent crossfire between things she knows and things she hopes for, and it is so extremely bizarre to think about how she is extremely gifted, given the content, but extremely unfamiliar with all of it. She had to wipe her parents memories to save them towards the end (I’m not sorry; the spoiler alerts have expired long ago and really, it was a stroke of genius on the part of Ms. Rowling). How the Horcruxes (insecurities) drain your soul, how Quidditch is basically all the sports but more fun, and how Ron and Harry meet and bond over candy (and not packed sandwiches). You can tell JK’s roots because she knows the Dementors well enough to make them scary, and she knows what it’s like to be hungry, let alone have to care for others. Memory as a liquid silver substance, that too is true, in a way, to look in instead of out. The people who knew Thestrals were the only people that had seen death: well, JK, I would love to talk to you some day about the supernatural, because clearly you know it. She was coping with her mother’s death and a lot of brokenheartedness around all this time, it makes complete sense that she would shine a light on that pain in a way children could understand. The truth is the truth, even if it gets lodged in your brain as metaphors. All of the familial turmoil with Barty Crouch’s son and joining Voldemort (the original serpant, duh, just look at the way the baby broken souled voldemort cried and died next to Harry in the heaven of Kings Cross station with Dumbledore). When JK Rowling said in interviews that she didn’t necessarily make it about God, I believe her. I know how flexible a lot of perception can be, and if that is what she wrote and how she sees it, beautiful. But I know too that the entire point of writing and analyzing it is to have an informed perspective on how you see it yourself, aligning the truth in your life to the truth in a “story”. Demented people with tattoos, I wonder why she did that. I don’t think it is because people with that tattoos are evil though, I think it’s more to play upon a stereotype and redefine it. Snape loving Harry’s mother and yet, treating him terribly? Also the absolute truth in the ways of the heart. He is such a conflicted soul, but it’s true.

I may have learned to read reading Harry Potter (after the days of being a late bloomer in the summer after first grade and taking to it like a weed, just as soon as they could get me to sit still), but the bloody battles and welts my sister and I afforded each other squabbling over the books is like the stuff of legends. My mother would only ever buy one copy, we were public library children, it’s not like I wanted a library of my own anyways. I just wanted bragging rights, the same reason I pulled out my last baby tooth with a string and a doorknob like the movies. I was the first, which made me the best #duh. Lauren can be first at other dumb things, but she had to be the first when it comes to periods too, so I think we’re kinda even. Some times I wonder how normal no twin children grew up, and I simply don’t know but I think it must have been kinda sad. Either that or totally awesome. Probably just a lot more boring. We had the absolute best and worst because we were so different but everyone thought we were the same (still do, as we look more and more similar again). It’s just weird. My sister was in the library with me on finals week and somebody I used to live with thought she was me. Okay, we do not look that close, we just don’t. But she said it was really funny, and we laughed about it for a hot second and went back to my favorite place on campus so she could draw. That was a weird day, lots of mist. Anyways, my friends get weirded out. We said when we were kids we were gonna write books and she was gonna do the pictures and I was gonna do the stories, and I’m still gunning for that. Gonna wear her down slowly but surely. Such is life.

I forget what we were talking about?


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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