So Rowling had no way of knowing the political climate during the 19 Years Later epilogue, but we do now. So consider this: what kind of world does the Golden Trio live in right now?
Their country is in the middle of Brexit talks, with racism and protectionism at their worst and the magic community isn’t far behind.
Young Pure Bloods march the streets with torches and capes, shouting “They will not replace us!” They wear Deatheater masks and temporary tattoos (oh it’s not the real thing, they’ll wash it off and be back at the office on Monday).
In the news, the authorities call for a cease of violence and ask people not to fight the young pure bloods. In the streets, people talk about talking to them calmly to fix things. Ron is livid. “You don’t reason with bloody Deatheaters! You throw curses at them!”
Hermione’s work for equality in the magical world gets harder every day. She starts getting death threats in her mail, many howlers that leave her in tears. She keeps going. When people insist that every werewolf is dangerous to society and they should all be banned from country, she tearfully remembers Lupin giving his life to protect them all, she remembers Dobby with a knife in his heart and Hagrid with his half giant blood and his giant heart. She keeps fighting.
As much as he hates it —and he hates it a lot— Harry becomes a vocal public figure again, constantly condemning blood purists and calling for action against them. His office calls horrified after the first interview, telling him he can’t be calling for violence against this people who are only protesting. “They are Deatheaters and this is how we deal with them,” he snarls back. “Have you forgotten Voldemort?” On the other side of the line, he can feel them flinch.
No one who fought the war has forgotten it, but so many others seem to, it pains Harry. It’s been barely twenty years since he saw children die in the grounds of Hogwarts, killed by grown angry men who believed themselves superior. It’s been barely twenty years since Tom Riddle’s death body laid on the ground and he thought they could finally have peace.
The trio sends their kids on the Hogwarts Express and they can’t help but remember their experiences there in a time much like this. They never thought their own children would have to suffer as they did, they pray they won’t have to.
Harry touches his lighting scar and reminds himself it hasn’t hurt again for years. All is well. A quiet voice inside his head wonders bitterly: “Is it, really?”
I bet for the professors teaching Ravenclaws is like herding cats away from empty boxes.
Older Ravenclaws have finely honed the art of asking just the right argumentative questions to direct their teacher onto an entire-class-session-long tangent about something entirely irrelevant to the course material.
Can you imagine Ravenclaws trying to overhaul the entire school system with Muggle ideas. Trying to figure out how to best teach people, more concerned with how people learn than what they’re learning.
“Why do we force people to learn things they aren’t interested in, we should create our own curriculum.”
“We should figure out everyone’s learning styles.”
“We need smaller class sizes.”
“No, no, wait, guys, what if we eliminated grades entirely.”
Yeah, Ravenclaws would drive Hermione up the wall.
“Fire the whole staff and start over.”
“Present more opportunities for seventh-year independent research!”
“Why hasn’t anyone made magically modified calculators yet?”
“Why are we still using quills and parchment when pencils exist? Please explain.”
“I don’t want to enter the work force directly after school, what are my options for higher education? Is there magical university?”
“I don’t feel confident in my professor’s qualifications because she’s teaching me astrology but doesn’t know any facts about space beyond about the year 1764.”
Muggleborn Ravenclaws forming rogue study groups to teach other students chemistry and algebra and English literature, just imagine.
“They call this the astronomy tower but we’re learning about the effects of Venus when it’s in the fourth house and the professor doesn’t believe Neptune is a planet I am really concerned.”
“Okay but what’s the oxidation state of Mandrake root in pepperup potion?”
“But can you apply differential calculus to arithmancy or not?“
“The portrayal of the witches in Macbeth has some pretty troubling implications, also, I don’t think their potion would have actually done anything.”
Just like Slughorn, Albus Dumbledore collects people. Only, instead of focusing on those with influence, he looks to the outcasts.
The expelled half-giant. The young werewolf. The repentant Death Eater.
He protects them and gives them a second chance. All he asks in return is their loyalty.
And, if on occasion he requests that they undertake a certain task, invoking their debt of gratitude – well, that is no more than he is owed.
He once thought to add a certain disowned Black to his collection, but quickly realised his mistake.
Sirius is not an outcast, but a rebel. He knowingly chose his path, and chooses what price he is willing to pay for it. He refuses to be used.
So Albus Dumbledore abandons him.
Who gave you the RIGHT?
Dumbledore knows Sirius’s loyalty lies with Harry instead of him, and he has no use for someone who is not willing to follow his orders without question.
Ooooohoo if there’s ever a post that fits my aesthetic…
okay but then where does Harry himself fit into this collection? Is he an outcast because he is “the Boy Who Lived”?
Nooonono, my friend, that’s what makes this post so beautiful. Because it fits the meta I’ve been trying to get people to accept for years.
Harry was an outcast due to a childhood filled with abuse and neglect.
Vernon made him an outcast by dismissing his claims of magic, berating him, locking him in a CLOSET and putting bars on his window, and let’s face it, even though her editor made her cut it out, Jo intended for there to be physical abuse.
Petunia made him an outcast by enabling and contributing to this abuse, as well as making Harry do dozens of chores while doting on Dudley.
Dudley made him an outcast by bullying him and threatening any students at school who wanted to be his friends.
And the rest of the wizarding world made him an outcast when they bullied him for being an outsider.
Harry James Potter became an outcast the moment he was placed with The Dursleys.
I think one of the reasons the Harry Potter Epilogue was so poorly received was because the audience was primarily made up of the Millennial generation.
We’ve walked with Harry, Ron and Hermione, through a world that we thought was great but slowly revealed itself to be the opposite. We unpeeled the layers of corruption within the government, we saw cruelty against minorities grow in the past decades, and had media attack us and had teachers tell us that we ‘must not tell lies’. We got angry and frustrated and, like Harry, Ron and Hermione, had to think of a way to fight back. And them winning? That would have been enough to give us hope and leave us satisfied.
But instead. There was skip scene. And suddenly they were all over 30 and happy with their 2.5 children.
And the Millennials were left flailing in the dust.
Because while we recognised and empathised with everything up to that point. But seeing the Golden Trio financially stable and content and married? That was not something our generation could recognise. Because we have no idea if we’re ever going to be able to reach that stage. Not with the world we’re living in right now.
Having Harry, Ron and Hermione stare off into the distance after the battle and wonder about what the future might be would have stuck with us. Hell, have them move into a shitty flat together and try and sort out their lives would have. Have them with screaming nightmares and failed relationships and trying to get jobs in a society that’s falling apart would have. Have them still trying to fix things in that society would have. Because we known Voldemort was just a symptom of the disease of prejudice the Wizarding World.
But don’t push us off with an ‘all was well’. In a world about magic, JK Rowling finally broke our suspension of disbelief by having them all hit middle-class and middle-age contentment and expecting a fanbase of teenagers to accept it.
Also. Since when was ‘don’t worry kids, you’re going to turn out just like your parents’ ever a happy ending? Does our generation even recognise marriage and money and jobs as the fulfillment of life anymore? Does our generation even recognise the Epilogue’s Golden Trio anymore?
Harry and crew at Hogwarts in what is technically their eighth year, studying for their NEWTs and trying to fit back into a life they’ve half outgrown, the teachers never bothering to treat them like students under their authority anymore and half the other students going to them for Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.
Harry shoving money at people, hey, you were a muggleborn who lost your wand to the Muggleborn Registration Committee? here have enough to buy your wand back and some more besides, you need to get your house back, how much do you need? starting a business, here have some start-up cash. injured in the final battle? take this money and get trained for a new line of work that doesn’t require legs. bitten by a werewolf? here’s money to buy potion. and he just keeps handing it out without paying any attention to it and there keeps being money there, and how the fuck is it okay that he has so much while others have to buy secondhand books and use secondhand wands?
Harry wanting to burn Grimmauld Place to the ground, and Harry wanting to donate Grimmauld Place as a home for people with bad family situations and people whose family have died and don’t want to be alone, and Harry never wanting to see Grimmauld Place again.
Harry wanting to snap at Molly’s mothering, at Molly’s being after him to cut his hair, at Molly’s invitations to him to come stay at the Burrow. Harry knowing she’s probably going to be his mother-in-law and knowing she’s lost a son and settling for pointing out that Aunt Petunia always hated his hair too, which shuts her up.
Harry and Draco walking on eggshells around each other. Harry making a few overtures of reconciliation and being rebuffed. Harry finally saying, well, be a prat then, and Draco snapping and slamming him into the wall, Muggle-style, and ranting for five minutes straight on how much it sucks to have believed in someone and been betrayed, to have lost, to have been saved by the person who defeated his side of the war, to have his dad in Azkaban and to have been handed Dumbledore’s life on a silver platter and been unable to take it, to have trusted Severus Snape and find out he was working for the other side and the war is over and Harry’s so covered in glory while Draco will never escape the stigma of having been a Death Eater when he wasn’t even a good Death Eater.
Harry looking at him and saying, yeah, that sucks, that’s fucked up. Saying, he watched Dumbledore die, watched his godfather die, lost Fred lost Mad-Eye lost Remus and Tonks, watched Cedric die because he was being too noble to take the Triwizard Cup for himself even though Cedric tried to insist. Saying war is fucked up, war fucks you up, shatters everything and you’re left with fragments that cut you open when you try to pick them up.
Draco telling Harry he’s dating Astoria, who doesn’t believe in blood supremacy. Harry telling Draco that if he likes Astoria, he should date Astoria, and he can give his kids magic and love and he doesn’t need to give them a position at the top of the social hierarchy to be a good father to them. Harry telling Draco that when he was faking being dead, Draco’s mother lied to Voldemort for him because he told her Draco was alive.
Harry taking part and giving evidence in the trials of captured Death Eaters and snatchers and others. Harry offering Lucius a plea bargain that will let him go home. Harry telling Lucius he understands people don’t like being in debt to their enemies, and if Lucius wants to hate him, that’s fine, but Harry thinks Lucius ought to go home and be with his family. Lucius saying nothing, but going home, and when Christmas break ends Draco comes back to school looking human for the first time in two and a half years.
School ending, and the whole double class of students sort of milling, cast adrift into an adulthood they’re not quite prepared for and at the same time are too familiar with. Half the flats above Diagon Alley being rented out by students in small groups and pairings who have no idea how to keep house; Diagon Alley getting an unofficial expansion as the Muggle flats nearby get rented to more of the same, with back doors leading to alleyways that lead to back ways into Diagon.
Some of the abandoned businesses in Diagon Alley getting opened by former Hogwarts students who don’t quite know what they want to do; a few of them importing Muggle concepts with a touch of magic: a store that’s a different Muggle fast-food restaurant every day of the month, a store that brings in Muggle items, Muggle music, Muggle technology. An internet cafe that serves butterbeer and Mountain Dew, cauldron cakes and Cheetos, side by side.
Knockturn Alley getting cleaned out by a new Ministry crackdown on the Dark Arts, and being taken over by those who feel shattered or tainted by the war. Stores trickle in to replace the old places, and shrines to the departed line the storefronts, here a fountain placed in memory, here a quote graffiti’d on the wall, here a mural, there a pile of flowers and trinkets. It’s a quiet place, contemplative; somehow the bustle of Diagon never touches it. Wildflowers grow through the cobblestones, and generations of future witches and wizards will grow up thinking “Nocturnally” refers to the twilight of the passage between worlds.
Hermione and Ron clashing over Ron’s expectations growing up with a mother who did everything for him and expecting a wife who’ll do the same. Hermione moving in with George and Angelina above the joke shop. (Angelina loved Fred, and is halfway in love with George; they are united in their missing of Fred. Hermione is growing to love George, who under his pranks and devil-may-care attitude is quite clever and inquisitive. The three of them make a decent vee, and Angelina can go travel with her international Quidditch team without worrying about George being neglected.)
Ron rebounding with Pansy Parkinson, of all people, who’s rebounding from Draco; their relationship being first built on a temporary cure for loneliness and rejection and an indulgence of spite at their respective exes, and then surprising them by continuing to work well once all that has faded.
Ollivander taking Cho Chang as an apprentice wandmaker. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot undertaking the work to turn Grimmauld Place into Phoenix House, a home for abused, orphaned, and neglected magical children, squibs, homeless or familyless witches and wizards, and convalescents from St. Mungo’s.
Ginny’s first child is a daughter, with Harry’s black hair and green eyes; she indulges Harry by naming her Sev, like the boy Harry’s mother once played with when the world was new and full of wonder. It’s short for Severa, which is Latin in the old wizarding tradition, and it reminds Harry of Evans and of ever, which has about the same meaning as Always.
Draco and Astoria end up having five kids, and Draco scandalizes his younger self by loving every aspect of fatherhood times five. Daphne Greengrass, Astoria’s sister, ends up marrying Percy Weasley, which means Draco’s kids have Weasley cousins. Family get-togethers are very interesting, but somehow Narcissa and Lucius survive.
*GRABS THIS AND RUNS TO THE MOUNTAINS WITH IT SO NO ONE CAN EVER TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME*
Hufflepuff is tea and sweaters. Hufflepuff is punching someone in the face because they need to shut up, calm down, or get the sense knocked into them. Hufflepuff is spring, seeing winter melting away and basking in the sunlight. Hufflepuff is singing loudly to Journey and Queen. Hufflepuff is having the messiest room and yet knowing exactly where to find everything. Hufflepuff is “there’s no such thing as too much chocolate”. Hufflepuff is one too many glasses of champagne so the world feels like sunshine. Hufflepuff is honestly not giving a damn what anyone else thinks. Hufflepuff is prank wars that spiral out of control. Hufflepuff is getting shit done while everyone else argues. Hufflepuff is refusing to fit into the mold, which results in hufflepunks. Hufflepuff is staying up till three am to talk someone out of depression, out of suicide, out of something stupid, convincing them how amazing and how loved they are. Hufflepuff is loyalty, is true friendship, not the plastic My Little Pony stuff but the true friendship. Hufflepuff is the first ones to get Netflix running at Hogwarts, despite magical interference.
Hufflepuff is loneliness, is the intense desire for friendship. Hufflepuff is having to deal with derision and scorn. Hufflepuff is loyalty placed in the wrong ideal, loving the wrong person. Hufflepuff is drowning in emotions that bring panic attacks.
Ravenclaw is winter peace and blizzards. Ravenclaw is the beauty of white snow against evergreens and a baby blue sky. Ravenclaw is the sharpness and cutting edge of a cold breeze, the glint of a metal blade. Ravenclaw is the silence of a library, lost completely in a world of ink and screens and words. Ravenclaw is a glass of wine and an old friend. Ravenclaw is martial arts and street smart. Ravenclaw is always asking why. Ravenclaw is pages filled with writing and doodles and diagrams. Ravenclaw is telling dirty jokes in code so no one can tell why you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe, and the teacher can’t read the notes you were passing in class. Ravenclaw is failing a class because you couldn’t be bothered to read or do homework, it was too boring and you had other things. Ravenclaw is challenging the status-quo and saying “there’s always another option”. Ravenclaw is citrus and a stash of junk food that you always seem to eat right away. Ravenclaw is learning a new language because you want to. Ravenclaw is an innocent face that can hide the dirtiest mind. Ravenclaw is a pile of books that you’ll read – you will, you promise – one day. Ravenclaw is looking up and saying “hell, when did it get to be three thirty AM”, and you have classes in five hours but decide that staying up another half hour won’t hurt. Ravenclaw is love that happens slowly, like creeping ivy, till one day you wake up and realize it’s ensnared you tightly and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ravenclaw is addiction, to coffee, to drugs, to sweets, anything to get that clarity and that swooping feeling. Ravenclaw is coldness, is locking away resentment to fester, is “revenge is a dish best served cold”. Ravenclaw is shutting up and never ever asking for help, because you’re smart enough, capable enough to handle it. Because you have to.
Gryffindor is summer, cloudless blue skies and endless green fields. Gryffindor is adrenaline highs and truth or dare. Gryffindor is bright red lipstick and cologne that makes heads turn. Gryffindor is parties that go all night. Gryffindor is fireworks exploding in the sky. Gryffindor is standing up to anyone, friend, foe, or stranger, to tell them they’re wrong. Gryffindor is throwing your friend a beer and jumping on their lap to take a nap. Gryffindor is the love of horror games. Gryffindor is steak and burgers, Gryffindor is spicy curry. Gryffindor is taking the risk, making the leap, no matter the odds. Gryffindor is raising your hand in class. Gryffindor is passionate love, whether it be romantic, platonic, or otherwise, that sees no difference in a hand picked wildflower and a diamond necklace as long as it makes the recipient happy. Gryffindor is defending, even if it’s defending someone you hate against someone you love, because Gryffindor stands up for what is right.
Gryffindor is recklessness, the uncontrollable emotion, the carelessness with laws and rules. Gryffindor is choosing the ‘morally correct’ option even if it means more are hurt. Gryffindor is solving things brashly, physically, and only making everything worse.
Slytherin is fall evenings, the air crisp but not cold, the setting sun revealing autumn beauty before darkening to show a million billion stars in the indigo inky sky. Slytherin is when the air smells like cloves and cinnamon and smoke from the crackling bonfire. Slytherin is apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Slytherin is a glass of golden scotch. Slytherin is finding comfort in jeans and a leather jacket, dying your hair and tattoos that are like artwork. Slytherin is pride in your heritage, in what it took to get you here. Slytherin is the warm blossom of accomplishment in your chest. Slytherin is tall boots and long scarves. Slytherin is the person you’d trust with anything and everything, the one you love above all else, the one you’d kill for. Slytherin is not being afraid of the dark, but remembering that night heals. Slytherin is musky forests and the steady soothing rainfall. Slytherin is sarcasm and wit. Slytherin is determination in the face of fear. Slytherin is talking your way out of situations to keep those you love safe. Slytherin is the love that shows itself quietly from day to day, with quiet brushes and unsaid favors, but that rears up in fury to defend if necessary.
Slytherin is the dark side, the morally ambiguous, the race to the finish line for whatever it is you desire, shoving others aside because you have to. Slytherin is locking yourself in a shadowed corner and curling up, because it’s too much… it’s too much… and wiping the tears and standing anyway, head held high because you can’t stop now, and you can’t show weakness.
Hufflepuffs are not weak. Ravenclaws are not heartless. Gryffindors are not arrogant. Slytherins are not evil.
I have a theory that the valued quality of each of the four Houses isn’t really about the personality of its students.
The valued quality of each of the four Houses has to do with how they perceive magic.
Stick with me a second: Hogwarts is a school to study magic. Magic as Hogwarts teaches it can be seen as many things: a natural talent, a gift, a weapon, etc.
So how you believe magic should be used will both reflect your personality and change how you handle that power.
“Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart,” Gryffindors perceive magic as a weapon. Gryffindors tend to excel in aggressive forms of magic, like offensive and defensive spells, and they are good at dueling. But a true Gryffindor knows that the power is a responsibility, and so they must always use their powers to stand up for what’s right. They are the sword of the righteous, which makes them as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as they are at combat magic.
Hufflepuffs believe that magic is a gift and that the best gifts are to be given away. Hufflepuffs, “loyal and just,” would naturally abhor the idea of jealously guarding magic or using it to hurt someone else. So Hufflepuffs share their magic to benefit of Muggles, like the Fat Friar, to protect the overlooked, like Newt Scamander with his creatures, or to oppose those who would use magic to torment and bully, like the Hufflepuffs who stood with the DA and the battle of Hogwarts.
Slytherins are the opposite: they believe their magic is a treasure that they have been entrusted to protect. The Slytherin fascination with purity, with advantage, with cunning and secrecy–all of which were perverted by the Death Eaters–comes from the idea that people with magic in their veins have been given something special that it is their duty to protect at all costs. And perhaps they aren’t entirely wrong: power in the wrong hands can be dangerous. And power interfering at will with Muggle affairs is a gross presumption that could turn the course of history. Though the series shows some of the worst that Slytherin can be, “evil,” is not a natural Slytherin tendency. “Cautious,” is.
Ravenclaws believe that magic is an art form, one that is beautiful and should be appreciated and studied for its own sake. If “wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” then asking what magic is for is useless. It’s more important to immerse oneself in magic for its own sake. Ravenclaws push the boundaries of magic to see if they can, hence Hermione’s spell experiment on the DA coins being dubbed a Ravenclaw quality, but like Luna Lovegood in the pursuit of extraordinary creatures: they can also be content to plumb the depths of what already exists.
So while you can see where personalities will overlap over Houses, perhaps in Sorting we should be asking ourselves less what we think we are and more what we think we believe.
that’s much more interesting and substantive than “brave, smart, evil, miscellaneous”
Question of Smoke 