The Magical Worlds of Harry Potter

by David Colbert

  In 1484, the authors of Malleus Maleficarum were instructed by Pope Innocent VIII to prosecute witches in Germany.

  See also: Goyle Names

  Draco has a double meaning in Latin, both “dragon” and “snake.” (Many languages used the same word for both.) Not surprisingly, Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin.

  Draco’s father is Lucius Malfoy—an echo of “Lucifer,” which has come to be a name for the Devil. That fits Lucius, a powerful Death Eater.

  Draco’s mother is Narcissa. Her name comes from Greek myth. The story goes that a handsome young man named Narcissus was very vain, so he was cursed by a god to fall in love with himself. Narcissus fell into a river while admiring his own reflection and drowned.

  Why Won’t Wizards Go Near a Manticore?

  IN J. K. ROWLING’S HARRY POTTER AND THE Prisoner of Azkaban, Hermione, trying to find a legal ruling that will save Buckbeak the hippogriff, comes across a revealing reference: “This might help, look—a manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the manticore off—oh—no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it.”

  That’s not surprising. The manticore may be the nastiest magical creature. A combination of man and beast, with sharp teeth and a vicious manner, it supposedly lived throughout ancient Asia. A frightening description was sketched in the second century by a Roman historian who drew from reports written as much as seven hundred years earlier:

  There is in India a wild beast, powerful, daring, as big as the largest lion, of a red colour like cinnabar, shaggy like a dog,“Manticore” comes from the Persian word martikhora, meaning “man-eater.”

  Manticore, from a 1607 woodcut.

  and in the language of India it is called Martichoras. Its face however is not that of a wild beast but of a man, and it has three rows of teeth set in its upper jaw and three in the lower; these are exceedingly sharp and larger than the fangs of a hound. Its ears also resemble a man’s, except that they are larger and shaggy; its eyes are blue-grey and they too are like a man’s, but its feet and claws, you must know, are those of a lion.

  To the end of its tail is attached the sting of a scorpion, and this might be over a cubit [eighteen inches] in length; and the tail has stings at intervals on either side. But the tip of the tail gives a fatal sting to anyone who encounters it, and death is immediate.

  If one pursues the beast it lets fly its stings, like arrows, sideways, and it can

  shoot a great distance; and when it discharges its stings straight ahead it bends its tail back; if however it shoots in a backwards direction, then it stretches its tail to its full extent. Any creature that the missile hits it kills; the elephant alone it does not kill. These stings which it shoots are a foot long and the thickness of a bulrush. One writer asserts (and he says that the Indians confirm his words) that in the places where those stings have been let fly others spring up, so that this evil produces a crop.

  According to the same writer the Manticore devours human beings; indeed it will slaughter a great number; and it lies in wait not for a single man but would set upon two or even three men, and alone overcomes even that number.

  The Indians hunt the young of these animals while they are still without stings in their tails, which they then crush with a stone to prevent them from growing stings. The sound of their voice is as near as possible that of a trumpet.

  A more recent description comes from the famous French poet and novelist of the nineteenth century, Gustave Flaubert. In The Carol Rose, an expert in magical creatures, says in the Middle Ages the manticore was thought to be a representative of the prophet Jeremiah. This connection derived from the belief that the manticore lived deep in the Earth. Jeremiah had been imprisoned in a dungeon.

  See also: Beasts

  Temptation of Saint Anthony, Flaubert’s manticore makes this colorful announcement: “The gleam of my scarlet hair mingles with the reflection of the great sands. I breathe through my nostrils the terror of solitudes. I spit forth plague. I devour armies when they venture into the desert. My claws are twisted like screws, my teeth shaped like saws, and my curving tail bristles with darts, that I cast to right and left, before and behind. Look out!”

  Why Is the Third Task Set in a Maze?

  THE THIRD AND FINAL TASK OF THE Triwizard Tournament is set within a maze built just for that purpose. Within it the competitors encounter a boggart, a sphinx, a Blast-Ended Skrewt, a giant spider, and a golden mist that turns them upside down. At the center is the Triwizard Cup.

  THE LABYRINTH OF CRETE

  The maze—or labyrinth—is central to one of the best-known Greek myths about a hero’s test of skill, the story of Theseus and the Minotaur. That labyrinth was built on the island of Crete by Daedalus, perhaps the most able inventor of his time. It was created to hold the pet of King Minos—a man-eating monster with a bull’s head and a human body, known as the Minotaur.

  At the time, Crete dominated Athens, which was forced to pay an annual tribute ofThe Minotaur, from a vase of the fifth century BC.

  See also: Centaurs Fluffy

  seven young men and seven young women to Crete. Every year these unlucky souls were sent into the labyrinth, which was too confusing to escape, and were eaten by the Minotaur. One year, Theseus, son of the Athenian king, was among the offerings. But Minos’s daughter Ariadne fell in love with him before he entered the labyrinth. To save his life, she gave him a sword to kill the Minotaur and a ball of thread to trail behind him so he could find his way back.

  Although Theseus proved ungrateful to Ariadne, after his success in the labyrinth he became one of the greatest kings of Athens.

  Why Might McGonagall Appear As a Cat?

  HE VERY FIRST WIZARD TO APPEAR IN T J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (even before Harry), is Minerva McGonagall, who lurks at Number Four Privet Drive in the form of a tabby cat. (A cat reading a map, actually—quite a shock to Mr. Dursley, who isn’t entirely sure if such a thing is possible or if, instead, it is “a trick of the light.”)

  Though Prof. McGonagall may become a cat because it best reflects her personality, a cat would be an appropriate choice for many witches and wizards. Cats are not only ancient civilized pets—domesticated for perhaps five thousand years—they have long been linked with magic. Being nocturnal, they naturally came to be associated with darkness, the moon, and the spirit world.

  The Egyptian cat-goddess, Bast.

  See also: Animagus Black, Sirius Names (McGonagall)

  ANCIENT CATS

  Cats were revered in the ancient cultures of Egypt and India, where mysticism originated. The city of Bubasti, at one time the capital of Egypt, was devoted to the worship of the cat-headed goddess, Bast. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims flocked to the city each year. Cats were given elaborate funerals. Sacred rituals also honored cats in Europe.

  In ancient Rome, the goddess Diana had the power to transform herself into a cat. In Scandinavia, Freya, the Norse goddess of love, marriage, and fertility, was said to travel in a chariot drawn by two cats. Cats were also honored in early British history. But as Christianity replaced paganism, cats became objects of scorn, fear, and superstition.

  When Mr. Dursley stares at the tabby form

  of McGonagall, and she stares back, it’s no surprise that Dursley senses (though only for a moment until his attention wanders!) an omen.

  Why Might a Human Fear Merpeople?

  FROM THE LATIN WORD MARE, MEANING “sea,” comes the name of these creatures known all over the world. The merpeople who live in the lake at Hogwarts, like so many others in literature, have green skin and long green hair. They have human torsos but silver fish tails instead of legs. (J. K. Rowling also adds some details that make her merpeople unique. Their houses are arranged in villages like those in the suburbs on land, and they make pets of grindylows.)

  Legends of merpeople exist in nearly every culture. For instance, it was once said that the French aristocracy descended from a mermaid named Melusina
.

  As Rowling says in Beasts, the Sirens of Greek mythology are similar to mermaids.

  See also: Beasts Grindylows Kappas

  They sing to the sailors of ships that pass by, enchanting them to their deaths on nearby rocks. In The Odyssey, Odysseus makes his crew plug their ears when they sail by the sirens, but orders them to tie him to the ship’s mast so he can listen to the beautiful music without danger.

  When Harry meets the merpeople during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, he finds the same danger that contact with merpeople often symbolizes: the risk that the sea will prove so alluring that one will never return to land. As a character in one of the “Twice-Told Tales” of the early American author Nathaniel Hawthorne tells a young woman, “I fancied you akin to the race of mermaids, and thought how pleasant it would be to dwell with you among the quiet coves, in the shadows of the cliffs, and to roam along secluded beaches of the purest sand, and when our northern shores grew bleak, to haunt the islands, green and lonely, far amid summer seas.”

  Why Are Mirrors Magical?

  FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, THE FOLKLORE of wizards has mentioned mirrors. Being expensive to make in ancient times, mirrors were rare and had the power to inspire surprise and awe. According to some legends they were tools of the Devil, used for capturing souls just as they captured images. In the Middle Ages wizards stared into mirrors to see the future or answer great questions. This is called “scrying.”

  The most famous magical mirror in literature is the one belonging to the evil queen in Snow White. In a tale from The Arabian Nights, a genie gave Prince Alasnam a mirror that would reveal whether or not a lover could be trusted. In a poem from Elizabethan England, The Faerie Queen, Merlin created a mirror for King Ryence with similar powers:

  The great Magician Merlin had devised,

  By his deep science, and hell-dreaded might, John Dee

  (1527-1608),

  a favorite

  wizard of

  Britain’s Queen

  Elizabeth I,

  often used a

  mirror for

  divination.

  159

  Witchcraft

  expert

  Rosemary Ellen

  Guiley found

  a medieval

  wizard’s

  instructions for

  making a magic

  mirror: “Buy a

  looking-glass

  and inscribe

  upon it

  ‘S. Solam

  S. Tattler

  S. Echogordner

  Gematur.’

  Bury it at a

  crossroads

  during an

  uneven hour. On

  the third day, go

  to the spot at

  the same hour

  and dig it up—

  but do not be

  the first person

  to gaze into it.

  Let a dog or a

  cat look first.”

  A looking-glass, right wondrously built.

  This mirror showed in perfect sight,

  Whatever thing was in the world,

  That the looker hoped to find;

  Whatever foe had done, or friend or fiend,

  Was thus discovered therein.

  This mirror is very much like the one described by another famous British poet who lived three hundred years before Spenser. Geoffrey Chaucer—one of the first poets to write in English—created a long series of stories called The Canterbury Tales, each of which is narrated by a different fictional character making a pilgrimage to a shrine at Canterbury. In one of the stories, “The Squire’s Tale,” a mirror is given to a king named Cambinskan from the King of Araby and Ind:

  This mirror . . .

  Has power such that men may in it see

  Whether will come any adversity

  Unto your realm, or yourself also;

  And reveal who is your friend or foe.

  And also this: if any lady bright

  Has her heart set on any shining knight

  If he is false, she shall his treason see.

  And his other love, and all his secrecy.

  MAGIC PORTALS

  As well as tools for divination, mirrors are often portals to other worlds, like the one imagined by Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Through the Looking-glass:

  “Now, if you’ll only wait, Kitty, and not talk so much, I’ll tell you all my ideas about Looking-glass House. First, there’s the room you can see through the glass—that’s just the same as our drawing room, only the things go the other way . . . Let’s pretend there’s a way of getting through into it, somehow, Kitty. Let’s pretend the

  glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through. Why, it’s turning into a sort of mist now, I declare! It’ll be easy enough to get through—” She was up on the chimney-piece while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And certainly the glass was beginning to melt away, just like a bright mist.

  There are many stories of people and monsters imprisoned in mirrors.

  Vulcan, the Roman god of fire and metalwork, was said to have a magic mirror that showed him scenes from the past, present, and future.

  THE MIRROR OF ERISED

  Most of all, mirrors are a reflection of the self, for better or worse. That is why they can be so dangerous. The Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone is certainly this sort of mirror. J. K. Rowling says that it stands “as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame.” At the top the following words are carved: “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.” Obviously, this message is the mirror image of “I show not your face but your heart’s desire.” And what could be better than that? Anything, apparently, as Ron tells Harry: “Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad.”

  Although, as Rowling says, the Mirror of Erised is “the key to finding the Stone,” it is also a test of one’s character. Vanity and selfishness, central to the act of looking in a mirror, are corrupt qualities. Because only someone with rare virtue deserves his desire, only someone who looks in the mirror and sees others (as when Harry sees his parents in it) or sees himself committing a selfless act (such as keeping the Stone from Voldemort) will receive what he wishes.

  Which of Voldemort’s Cohorts Comes from India?

  IN GOBLET, VOLDEMORT IS KEPT ALIVE BY the poison of a large snake, Nagini. This is no ordinary snake. It has a royal bloodline and an important role in mythology.

  Naga is Sanskrit for snake, and nag is the word for snake in several modern languages. In Buddhism and Hinduism, nagas are a race of semi-divine snakes with great powers. They live in a beautiful undergound city. Some have many heads. On the head of naga king Vasuki is a brilliant jewel, Nagamani, which has miraculous healing powers. In some legends the nagas are human from head to waist and serpent from the waist down. Female nagas are known as nagini.

  A naga is said to have protected the Buddha, who was meditating under a tree during a great storm, by wrapping itself around him and spreading its heads to form an umbrella for him. As well, the world is saidA naga, from a Sri Lankan stone carving.

  163

  See also: Basilisk

  to rest on the many heads of a naga named Ananta. And the naga king, Vasuki, was used by the gods to churn the ocean to create Amrita, an elixir of immortality. Not coincidentally, this is just what Voldemort seeks.

  Nagas share an interesting connection with the basilisk. Just as roosters are the enemy of a basilisk, the constant foe of the naga is Garuda, a powerful mythical bird.

  Where Do Those Names Come From?!

  DOES ANY WRITER CREATE NAMES WITH more care or a greater sense of humor than J. K. Rowling? She uses foreign words, puns, and anagrams; makes references to history and myth; takes names from maps and war memorials; and uses many flower names. Occasionally she makes up names out of thin air, but even that can be hard work. She says the name “Quidditch” took almost two days of thinking and wordpla
y.

  Rowling not only invents words, she invents fun histories for them. In Quidditch Through the Ages, written long after she introduced the game, she artfully answers the many queries of her fans by revealing that in Harry’s world the game got its name from the place it was first played, Queerditch Marsh.