The Complete Idiot's Guide to the World of Harry Potter

by Tere Stouffer

  • In the Grimm Brothers’ “Hans, My Hedgehog” and “Beauty and the Beast,” the love of a woman transforms a beast into his beautiful human self. In fact, princes and princesses are regularly turned into frogs, beasts, and other animals as the result of a punishing spell, and these effects are temporary until the proper conditions exist for the reversal of that spell.

  • In the movie Shrek, a princess takes the form of an ogre each night. In both versions of Disney’s The Shaggy Dog, men are turned into sheepdogs, and hilarity ensues.

  • Mythological gods and goddesses often took animal forms, and just as often, they punished others by turning them into animals.

  • Apuleius’s The Golden Ass, Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and Homer’s The Odyssey all contain instances of humans transforming into animals.

  Conjuring a Patronus

  When faced with a dementor (a guard at Azkaban prison; see Chapter 15), an exceptional wizard can perform a Patronus Charm. Patronus is derived from the word patron, which means protector or defender (from the Latin patrius, for father), and in the wizarding world, a Patronus acts as a defender against a dementor.

  A Patronus, which takes a unique animal shape for the wizard conjuring it, isn’t bothered by the happiness-sucking practice of dementors.

  To conjure a Patronus, a wizard must think about a very happy memory (or even a happy daydream), and then utter the incantation Expecto Patronum! A silver vapor then emanates from the wizard’s wand, and that vapor turns into the Patronus, which is life size, but shiny, silvery, and almost ghostlike. Wizards who are still learning the Patronus Charm produce only the silvery smoke, while more advanced wizards produce a corporeal (that is, a visible and tangible) Patronus.

  Patron saints are an important feature of Catholicism and resemble a Patronus in some ways. (Saints are holy people who, when they lived, had unusual relationships with God; in Catholicism, the formal process of canonization—that is, sainthood—takes years to complete.) Patron saints, because of their individual histories, represent a particular condition (physical or spiritual), state, or vocation, and Catholics ask for intercession on the part of that patron saint when praying. So, for example, an athlete might, in prayer, ask Saint Sebastian, the patron saint of athletes, to pray for him or her to help with an injury or because of a difficult upcoming match, acting as a sort of protector. (Note that patron saints are not gods or deities; asking a patron saint to pray on one’s behalf is like asking a next-door neighbor to pray on one’s behalf. No one would suggest that the person believes the next-door neighbor is a god. The only difference is that the patron saint happens to be dead.)

  Similarly, in religious practices throughout history, a guardian angel is a protector like a Patronus. Artifacts show that Babylonians and Assyrians believed in the presence of angels who guarded people from harm and helped them succeed. Both the Old and New Testaments also reference angels who protect people from harm.

  TOURIST TIP

  Is there a patron saint of magic? Well, not yet, but a priest in Torino, Italy, is making a case for Saint Giovanni Bosco, who was born less than an hour from Torino, to have that honor. This saint started doing magic tricks in the early nineteenth century to amuse his friends, and he became well known for his "magical” abilities. Bosco actually has a chance at earning the title of patron saint of magicians, as the Catholic Church sees no problem with magic tricks—as long as they don’t lead to devil worship! Torino is, in fact, known as a "magic town” because of the abilities of its greatest conjurer, Bartolomeo Bosco, who was born about 20 years before Saint Giovanni and likely sparked the younger Bosco’s magical interests.

  Deciphering Runes

  The study of runes—that is, symbols that make up a 24-character alphabet known as the Futhark—does not have a significant place in the wizarding world of Harry Potter. Only one main character (Hermione Granger) is known to study the subject; she is often caught reading books like Ancient Runes Made Easy, Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, Advanced Rune Translations, as well as referencing a rune dictionary.

  Runes have, however, had a place in British culture since the collapse of Rome and the Age of Migrations (also called the Dark Ages). Originally derived from Greek, runes were used by Germanic and Scandinavian settlers in Britain after the Romans left the area, roughly around 300 to 400 C.E. The 24 original runic symbols (9 more were added a few hundred years after their first use, but they’re considered to be posers) are as follows:

  However, runes are not simply an alphabet of letters that are combined to make words; their study and understanding is far more complex. Each rune is made up of a symbol that is not only beautiful in and of itself but also has a direct translation, a meaning (an expansion of the translation) , a personal interpretation for your own life, characteristics that further examine the translation and meaning, a tie to the natural world of animals and plants, a number, a color, an element (fire, earth, water, air), a polarity (male or female), associated gods, correspondence to an astrological sign, correspondence to a Tarot card, a reverse meaning, and a converse meaning.

  MAGIC TALE

  Use of the word "rune” abounds in dragon literature and modern fantasy. The word, even if readers aren’t exactly sure what it means when they see it, conjures up images of secrecy and magic. Christopher Paolini mentions runes dozens of times in the lengthy novels Eragon and Eldest, and the meaning is roughly the idea of "letters of an alphabet.” In those novels, 11 runes are the oldest and most unique; dwarf runes are quite similar to human runes, humans having based their alphabet on that of the dwarves.

  With so much meaning attributed to each runic symbol, runes have long been used in divination—that is, to tell one’s personal fortune. They have had other magical uses, too, including casting spells and weaving charms.

  Using Legilimency and Occlumency

  Legilimency is the practice of reading someone’s thoughts, memories, and emotions, usually for nefarious purposes, although it is sometimes done with good intentions. Eye contact makes the practice much easier. The greatest Legilimens is Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, who has a Legilimenian connection with Harry Potter; they can sometimes share thoughts and feelings without even trying (and, indeed, against their wills).

  The term literally means the state of reading the mind (the Latin legens means “reading,” the Latin mens means “mind,” and the suffix -ency means “the state of”), but Legilimency is far subtler than simply reviewing the thoughts in a person’s head. A skilled Legilimens can determine the intentions of the person, and so can determine whether a person has just lied, is going to betray those around him, or has intentions other than those he has stated.

  Occlumency is the antidote to Legilimency. Literally meaning “the state of closing the mind” (occludo is Latin for shut up or close), Occlumency can keep even a skilled Legilimens from penetrating the mind. The key to becoming a skilled Occlumens is to make the mind as blank as possible, thus revealing nothing about your intentions, emotions, and thoughts.

  Knowing what’s in the hearts and minds of others is an oft-used device in literature, but that knowledge tends to come more from intuition and the character and tendencies of another and less from directly reading one’s thoughts. True mind-probing is relatively uncommon in literature, but two such examples come to mind: in Christopher Paolini’s Eragon and Eldest, mind-probing is common among Dragon Riders, who also learn to shut out the probes of others. Dragon Riders can also scry others, which means they can check up on people and places they have seen before (they cannot scry something they have yet to see), even if the other person or place is at a great distance. And, of course, Mr. Spock was expert at the Vulcan mind meld in the original Star Trek TV series—in close proximity, often touching another person’s forehead, a Vulcan can share the thoughts, knowledge, experiences, and memories of the other.

  Practicing Prophecy

  Divination is the practice of attempting to predict the future; a divination (or prophecy)
is also the name given to a particular prediction of the future. A Seer (one with the Inner Eye) makes prophecies, while an Object is one about whom a prophecy is made.

  Divination is one of the few foundations that nearly all cultures share, from Mesopotamia and Babylonia to the Greeks and Romans, continuing throughout the history of Western civilization, and including Eastern cultures such as China and Korea. Divination was not considered “evil” or “alternative” as it is in many cultures now, but an important component of spiritual and religious life. Even the birth and death of Jesus were foretold as prophecy.

  In the wizarding world, however, divination is generally treated with a bit of, er, skepticism. Hogwarts’ Divination teacher, Sibyll Trelawney, is considered by many to be a fraud. Sibyll (sibyl is Greek for “wise” or “prophetic”) spends her time teaching students to interpret tea leaves, look into crystal balls, read cards, interpret dreams, and review the flight pattern of birds, none of which a true Seer needs in order to prophesize. Trelawney not only teaches Divination through such tools but also uses them to makes vague predictions of doom that few pay any attention to. She insists that her gifts are legitimate, perhaps insisting a bit too vehemently. One wonders whether the Divination teacher has any real confidence in her abilities.

  However, Trelawney is the descendent of a truly gifted Seer and, in moments she does not later recall—and without the aid of any of the Divination tools on which she relies—Trelawney utters meaningful prophecies. Such prophecies (and others, revealed by other Seers) are stored in glass orbs in the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic (see Chapter 14). As long as the orbs remain unbroken, prophecies can be played back like a tape recorder. Prophecies can also be repeated by anyone who overhears them.

  Prophecies do, indeed, predict what can happen in the future. But this is where they get interesting. Prophecies are not glimpses of the future. They are not plays that actors will soon act out, like puppets on a string. Instead, everyone involved in the prophecy is free to ignore it and go about his or her life. But because most people act on the prophecy—fearing, or, conversely, desiring its outcome—the prophecy is often fulfilled.

  MAGIC TALE

  Myth and folktales are filled with examples of people who, upon hearing a prophecy, acted on it to avoid its coming true, but instead succeeded only in creating perfect conditions in which the prophecy could happen. Consider the story of Oedipus, whose father was told that Oedipus would kill him and marry Oedipus’s mother. Terrified of this prophecy, Oedipus’s father created the very conditions under which the prophecy could be fulfilled: he injured his son and sent him out into the wilderness to die. Oedipus was saved by a servant and, never knowing his father or mother, eventually fulfilled the prophecy. Had the father chosen not to act on the prophecy and to raise Oedipus as his son, odds are the boy would never have killed his father or been attracted to his mother.

  Such is the case with the essential prophecy around which Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort center their lives. Trelawney predicted that a boy born in July to parents who had defied Voldemort three times would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, and that either the boy or Voldemort must die at the hands of the other. Now, if Voldemort had left this alone, it may or may not have come true. But, like Oedipus’s father, he acted on it, choosing Harry as that boy, even though another boy fit the description equally. In so choosing Harry, he marked the boy, and thus set the fulfillment of the prophecy in motion.

  Perhaps the best-known prophet in history was Pythia, the priestess of a shrine to Apollo, called Delphi, that was located at the center of the Greek world. Known as the Oracle at Delphi, Pythia communicated with Apollo and shared his prophecies. They were vague and subject to all sorts of interpretation, but heads of state and more common folk alike consulted the Oracle for guidance. In Roman times, pure prophecy in the trance-like state into which Pythia fell was replaced with more assistive forms of prophecy, such as those practiced by Sibyll Trelawney.

  Speaking in Parseltongue

  A Parselmouth—that is, one who can talk to snakes—speaks in the language of Parseltongue, which is made up of hissing sounds. It tends to be a talent one simply possesses, and it is not taught—nor for that matter, used—at Hogwarts.

  Traditionally, the ability to speak Parseltongue has been the mark of a Dark Wizard. In fact, the ability has been associated with Salazar

  Slytherin, founder of Slytherin House at Hogwarts (see Chapter 8), the house that has produced more Dark Wizards than any other. Lord Voldemort, the darkest of all wizards, is the best-known Parselmouth. However, not all Parselmouths are evil, as Harry Potter speaks fluent Parseltongue. His ability to hear snakes has saved the day on more than one occasion.

  According to an interview with J.K. Rowling, Parselmouth is an “old word for someone who has a problem with their mouth,” as with a harelip.

  Snakes have never been well-liked in culture and literature. A snake was, after all, responsible for the fall of man, when a serpent tempted Eve into tasting the forbidden fruit. Serpent mythology and folktales, in fact, are among the most recognizable cultural stories in the world. Both feared and respected, serpents were thought to be the most dangerous of all creatures, but they have been used in both healing and fertility rites.

  Serpents have been associated with gods and goddesses and played a role in a variety of literature, from Mesopotamian mythology and the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh to Kipling’s The Jungle Book.

  Sealing the Deal with a Fidelius Charm or an Unbreakable Vow

  A Fidelius Charm, rarely mentioned in the wizarding world, is a complicated charm that hides information inside a person, who is known as a Secret-Keeper. (Fidelis is Latin for faithful, loyal, trustworthy, and dependable.) As long as the Secret-Keeper says nothing, it is impossible for anyone else to discover that information, even if faced with it directly before him. So if you wanted to know the location of a soccer game, but that information had been hidden inside a Secret-Keeper, you wouldn’t be able to find that soccer game even if you walked onto the soccer pitch (field) and tripped over the players themselves.

  However, if the Secret-Keeper divulges the secret, the charm is nullified, and the hidden information is up for grabs. Because of the power of Dark Wizards to perform Legilimency, Secret-Keeping is important business. Wizards must always choose their Secret-Keepers carefully; their very lives could depend on it.

  An Unbreakable Vow is similar to a Fidelius Charm, but instead of a secret that cannot be learned, it represents a vow that cannot be broken … ever. To make such an airtight vow, the two people making the vow take each other’s right hands while a third party, a Bonder, stands over them. The vow is said out loud, while a flame surrounds the two vow-makers’ hands. It’s the equivalent of the fidelity claimed by blood brothers, but with much less spit and blood and with a much greater consequence if the vow is broken.

  What happens if you break the vow? Simple: you die. Imagine if a bride and groom took this approach. The divorce rate would surely decrease, but the number of deaths might increase somewhat!

  Creating a Horcrux

  A Horcrux is, perhaps, the most difficult to understand—and the most evil—of all advanced wizardry. There is only one reason to create a Horcrux, and that is to achieve immortality.

  A Horcrux is an object in which you hide a portion of your soul. If, after you’ve created a Horcrux, your body is killed, you will survive because that hidden portion of your soul will remain untouched. You can then rebuild your body, starting with the torn portion of your soul.

  It’s not the attempt at immortality that makes the creation of a Horcrux inherently evil; instead, it is the means by which the soul is torn. A soul is split in only one way: by committing the act of murder. This act is so evil that it rips the soul, and thus allows the split portion to be stored in a Horcrux. A split soul will be a lesser soul, however, because the human soul was meant to remain whole and unblemished.


  The word Horcrux likely derives from Latin words. The English word crucible, a container that can resist both great heat and withstand a severe test or trial, is associated with the Latin crux. And hor is likely a shortened version of several Latin terms that all lead to the English horror, horrid, and horrible. Thus, a Horcrux is a “horror-filled container, ” which is an apt term for a container holding the portions of a person’s soul ripped apart by committing murder.

  Dualism of the soul is an idea long present in the Bible, in which a soul is thought to be immortal, while the body is not. “Soul” is often used as a synonym for “life” in the New Testament, whereas today we tend to think of the soul more as the center of wisdom, goodness, and intuition in the body and less the source of life itself.

  The soul is the subject of much of literature, particularly fantasy literature. Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy is, in fact, obsessed with the notion of the soul, which Pullman calls a person’s “dæmon” and which defines his or her very nature. In Pullman’s trilogy, a soulless person is a ghost of his former self and either shows no emotion or dies, much like those in the wizarding world whose souls have been sucked out by a Dementor’s Kiss (see Chapter 15). A person without a soul, or with only a portion of a soul, could be thought of as less than human, and in fact would become less so, the further removed he was, in time, from the other part of his soul.

  This definition (less than human) befits Lord Voldemort, who created not one Horcrux, but six, thus splitting his soul into seven pieces. His Horcruxes include his diary; two family heirlooms (a ring and a locket); a cup that belonged to one of the Hogwarts founders, Helga Hufflepuff; and two others, yet unknown. (Voldemort’s snake and companion, Nagini, is thought to be a possibility, but also likely is that the two remaining Horcruxes belonged to Hogwarts founders, much like Helga’s cup. See Chapter 16 for the latest updates.)