Hogwarts: An Incomplete and Unreliable Guide (Kindle Single) (Pottermore Presents) Page 3

  Having chosen a feeble simulacrum of mortal life, ghosts are limited in what they can experience. No physical pleasure remains to them, and their knowledge and outlook remains at the level it had attained during life, so that old resentments (for instance, at having an incompletely severed neck) continue to rankle after several centuries. For this reason, ghosts tend to be poor company, on the whole. They are especially disappointing on the one subject that fascinates most people: ghosts cannot return a very sensible answer on what it is like to die, because they have chosen an impoverished version of life instead.

  Ghosts can pass through solid objects without causing damage to themselves or the material, but create disturbances in water, fire and air. The temperature drops in the immediate vicinity of a ghost, an effect intensified if many congregate in the same place. Their appearance can also turn flames blue. Should part or all of a ghost pass through a living creature, the latter will experience a freezing sensation as though they have been plunged into ice-cold water.

  Witches and wizards are much more susceptible to what Muggles call paranormal activity, and will see (and hear) ghosts plainly, where a Muggle might only feel that a haunted place is cold or ‘creepy’. Muggles who insist that they see ghosts in perfect focus are either a) lying or b) wizards showing off – and in flagrant breach of the International Statute of Secrecy.

  The circumstances around Nearly Headless Nick’s botched beheading were never explained in the Harry Potter series, but they’re a mystery no longer. You’ll find out exactly what happened to the aggrieved ghost (straight from Nick himself) in the following ballad, which was axed from an early draft of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

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  THE BALLAD OF NEARLY HEADLESS NICK

  BY J.K. ROWLING

  It was a mistake any wizard could make

  Who was tired and caught on the hop

  One piffling error, and then, to my terror,

  I found myself facing the chop.

  Alas for the eve when I met Lady Grieve

  A-strolling the park in the dusk!

  She was of the belief I could straighten her teeth

  Next moment she’d sprouted a tusk.

  I cried through the night that I’d soon put her right

  But the process of justice was lax;

  They’d brought out the block, though they’d mislaid the rock

  Where they usually sharpened the axe.

  Next morning at dawn, with a face most forlorn,

  The priest said to try not to cry,

  ‘You can come just like that, no, you won’t need a hat,’

  And I knew that my end must be nigh.

  The man in the mask who would have the sad task

  Of cleaving my head from my neck,

  Said ‘Nick, if you please, will you get to your knees,’

  And I turned to a gibbering wreck.

  ‘This may sting a bit’ said the cack-handed twit

  As he swung the axe up in the air,

  But oh the blunt blade! No difference it made,

  My head was still definitely there.

  The axeman he hacked and he whacked and he thwacked,

  ‘Won’t be too long’, he assured me,

  But quick it was not, and the bone-headed clot

  Took forty-five goes ’til he floored me.

  And so I was dead, but my faithful old head

  It never saw fit to desert me,

  It still lingers on, that’s the end of my song,

  And now, please applaud, or you’ll hurt me.

  Nearly Headless Nick and Moaning Myrtle aren’t the only permanent residents of Hogwarts. The castle walls are lined with portraits whose subjects can move, speak and interact with students – including the Fat Lady, who guards the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, and the many previous headmasters who are more than ready to offer advice to their successors.

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  HOGWARTS PORTRAITS

  BY J.K. ROWLING

  Hogwarts portraits are able to talk and move around from picture to picture. They behave like their subjects. However, the degree to which they can interact with the people looking at them depends not on the skill of the painter, but on the power of the witch or wizard painted.

  When a magical portrait is taken, the witch or wizard artist will naturally use enchantments to ensure that the painting will be able to move in the usual way. The portrait will be able to use some of the subject’s favourite phrases and imitate their general demeanour. Thus, Sir Cadogan’s portrait is forever challenging people to a fight, falling off its horse and behaving in a fairly unbalanced way, which is how the subject appeared to the poor wizard who had to paint him, while the portrait of the Fat Lady continues to indulge her love of good food, drink and tip-top security long after her living model passed away.

  However, neither of these portraits would be capable of having a particularly in-depth discussion about more complex aspects of their lives: they are literally and metaphorically two-dimensional. They are only representations of the living subjects as seen by the artist.

  Some magical portraits are capable of considerably more interaction with the living world. Traditionally, a headmaster or headmistress is painted before their death. Once the portrait is completed, the headmaster or headmistress in question keeps it under lock and key, regularly visiting it in its cupboard (if so desired) to teach it to act and behave exactly like themselves, and imparting all kinds of useful memories and pieces of knowledge that may then be shared through the centuries with their successors in office.

  The depth of knowledge and insight contained in some of the headmasters’ and headmistresses’ portraits is unknown to any but the incumbents of the office and the few students who have realised, over the centuries, that the portraits’ apparent sleepiness when visitors arrive in the office is not necessarily genuine.

  Perhaps the most outspoken portrait to grace the castle walls is Sir Cadogan, who Harry, Ron and Hermione encountered in their third year at Hogwarts. Often seen chasing after his fat pony, Sir Cadogan is a boastful knight who challenges passers-by to duels whenever he is given the opportunity. Legend has it that Sir Cadogan was as brash and brave in life as he appears to be in his portrait.

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  ‌SIR CADOGAN

  BY J.K. ROWLING

  BIRTHDAY:

  Unknown

  WAND:

  (According to legend) Blackthorn and troll whisker, nine inches, combustible

  HOGWARTS HOUSE:

  Gryffindor

  SPECIAL ABILITIES:

  Insane bravery

  PARENTAGE:

  Wizard father, witch mother

  FAMILY:

  Three wives are believed to have left him, rumoured to have had seventeen known children

  Before the wizarding community was forced into hiding, it was not unusual for a wizard to live in the Muggle community and hold down what we would now think of as a Muggle job.

  It is widely believed in wizarding circles that Sir Cadogan was one of the famous Knights of the Round Table, albeit a little-known one, and that he achieved this position through his friendship with Merlin. He has certainly been excised from all Muggle volumes of King Arthur’s story, but wizarding versions of the tales include Sir Cadogan alongside Sir Lancelot, Sir Bedivere and Sir Percivale. These tales reveal him to be hot-headed and peppery, and brave to the point of foolhardiness, but a good man in a corner.

  Sir Cadogan’s most famous encounter was with the Wyvern of Wye, a dragonish creature that was terrorizing the West Country. At their first encounter, the beast ate Sir Cadogan’s handsome steed, bit his wand in half and melted his sword and visor. Unable to see through the steam rising from his melting helmet, Sir Cadogan barely escaped with his life. However, rather than running away, he staggered into a nearby meadow, grabbed a small, fat pony grazing there, leapt upon it and galloped back towards the wyvern with nothing but his broken wand in his hand, prepared to meet a valiant death. The crea
ture lowered its fearsome head to swallow Sir Cadogan and the pony whole, but the splintered and misfiring wand pierced its tongue, igniting the gassy fumes rising from its stomach and causing the wyvern to explode.

  Elderly witches and wizards still use the saying ‘I’ll take Cadogan’s pony’ to mean, ‘I’ll salvage the best I can from a tricky situation’.

  Sir Cadogan’s portrait, which hangs on the seventh floor of Hogwarts Castle, shows him with the pony he rode forever more (which, understandably perhaps, never much liked him) and accurately depicts his hot temper, his love of a foolhardy challenge and his determination to beat the enemy, come what may.

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  Hogwarts is teeming with secrets. It seems from Harry’s explorations that every locked door and empty classroom conceals a rare magical object or fearsome monster of some kind. Let’s start with one of the most tempting but potentially devastating objects hidden in the grounds: the Mirror of Erised.

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  MIRROR OF ERISED

  BY J.K. ROWLING

  The Mirror of Erised is a very old device. Nobody knows who created it, or how it came to be at Hogwarts School. A succession of teachers have brought back interesting artefacts from their travels, so it might have arrived at the castle in this casual manner, either because the teacher knew how it worked and was intrigued by it, or because they did not understand it and wished to ask their colleagues’ opinions.

  The Mirror of Erised is one of those magical artefacts that seems to have been created in a spirit of fun (whether innocent or malevolent is a matter of opinion), because while it is much more revealing than a normal mirror, it is interesting rather than useful. Only after Professor Dumbledore makes key modifications to the mirror (which has been languishing in the Room of Requirement for a century or so before he brings it out and puts it to work) does it become a superb hiding place, and the final test for the impure of heart.

  The mirror’s inscription (‘erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’) must be read backwards to show its true purpose.

  Albus Dumbledore, who brings it out of hiding, puts it back where he found it when it has achieved his purpose in Philosopher’s Stone. We must conclude, therefore, that the mirror was destroyed, along with all the other contents of the Room of Requirement, during the Battle of Hogwarts.

  J.K. Rowling’s thoughts

  Albus Dumbledore’s words of caution to Harry when discussing the Mirror of Erised express my own views. The advice to ‘hold on to your dreams’ is all well and good, but there comes a point when holding on to your dreams becomes unhelpful and even unhealthy. Dumbledore knows that life can pass you by while you are clinging on to a wish that can never be – or ought never to be – fulfilled. Harry’s deepest yearning is for something impossible: the return of his parents. Desperately sad though it is that he has been deprived of his family, Dumbledore knows that to sit gazing on a vision of what he can never have, will only damage Harry. The mirror is bewitching and tantalising, but it does not necessarily bring happiness.

  Dumbledore may have concealed what he truly saw when looking in the Mirror of Erised, but the Headmaster didn’t hide all of his memories. Over the years, the powerful Pensieve in the Headmaster’s office was used to let Harry explore Tom Riddle’s mysterious past, the Crouch family’s terrible history, and Slughorn’s greatest mistake. Like many items in the Headmaster’s office, a Pensieve is hard to come by and tricky to use.

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  ‌PENSIEVE

  BY J.K. ROWLING

  A Pensieve is a wide and shallow dish made of metal or stone, often elaborately decorated or inlaid with precious stones, and carrying powerful and complex enchantments. Pensieves are rare, because only the most advanced wizards ever use them, and because the majority of wizardkind is afraid of doing so.

  The perceived dangers of the Pensieve relate to its power over memory or thought. The Pensieve is enchanted to recreate memories so that they become re-liveable, taking every detail stored in the subconscious and recreating it faithfully, so that either the owner, or (and herein lies the danger) a second party, is able to enter the memories and move around within them. Inevitably, those with things to hide, those ashamed of their pasts, those eager to keep hold of their secrets, or protective of their privacy, will be wary of an object like the Pensieve.

  Even more difficult than the recreation of memories is the use of a Pensieve to examine and sort thoughts and ideas, and very few wizards have the ability to do so. Albus Dumbledore is seen using the Hogwarts Pensieve in this way, notably in Chapter Thirty of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, when he adds thoughts to the Pensieve and Harry’s face turns into Snape’s; Dumbledore is reminding himself of the hidden connection between Snape and Harry (that Snape was in love with Harry’s mother, and is now – though immensely grudgingly – honour-bound to protect him).

  Traditionally, a witch or wizard’s Pensieve, like their wand, is buried with them, as it is considered an intensely personal artefact; any thoughts or memories left inside the Pensieve are likewise interred with their owner, unless he or she has requested otherwise. The Hogwarts Pensieve, however, belongs not to any individual but to the school. It has been used by a long line of headmasters and headmistresses, who have also left behind their life experience in the form of memories. This forms an invaluable library of reference for the headmaster or headmistress of the day.

  The Hogwarts Pensieve is made of ornately carved stone and is engraved with modified Saxon runes, which mark it as an artefact of immense antiquity that pre-dates the creation of the school. One (unsubstantiated) legend says that the founders discovered the Pensieve half-buried in the ground on the very spot where they decided to erect their school.

  The name ‘Pensieve’ is a homonym of ‘pensive’, meaning deeply, seriously thoughtful; but it also a pun, the ‘sieve’ part of the word alluding to the object’s function of sorting meanings from a mass of thoughts or memories.

  If you wanted to explore the castle forever and ever, you’d need to get hold of the Philosopher’s Stone. Before it was destroyed, obviously. But did you know that the stone has a history outside the wizarding world?

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  THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE

  J.K. Rowling’s thoughts

  I did not invent the concept of the Philosopher’s Stone, which is a legendary substance that was once believed to be real, and the true goal of alchemy.

  The properties of ‘my’ Philosopher’s Stone conform to most of the attributes the ancients ascribed to it. The Stone was believed to turn base metals into gold, and also to produce the Elixir of Life, which could make you immortal. ‘Genuine’ alchemists – the forerunners of chemists and physicists – such as Sir Isaac Newton and (the real) Nicolas Flamel, sought, sometimes over lifetimes, to discover the secret of its creation.

  The Stone is variously described as red and white in the many old texts in which it appears. These colours are important in most accounts of alchemy, and are often interpreted as having symbolic meaning.

  The Philosopher’s Stone isn’t the only mysterious artefact to appear to Harry in his hour of need. The sword of Gryffindor was goblin-made and studded with rubies, and was once owned by Hogwarts founder Godric Gryffindor. It was the appearance of the sword that appeased Harry’s doubts as to whether he was a true Gryffindor or not – as Dumbledore pointed out, ‘Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the Hat, Harry.’

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  THE SWORD OF GRYFFINDOR

  BY J.K. ROWLING

  The sword of Gryffindor was made a thousand years ago by goblins, the magical world’s most skilled metalworkers, and is therefore enchanted. Fashioned from pure silver, it is inset with rubies, the stone that represents Gryffindor in the hour-glasses that count the house points at Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor’s name is engraved just beneath the hilt.

  The sword was made to Godric Gryffindor’s specifications by Ragnuk the First, finest of the goblin silversmiths, and therefore King (in goblin
culture, the ruler does not work less than the others, but more skillfully). When it was finished, Ragnuk coveted it so much that he pretended that Gryffindor had stolen it from him, and sent minions to steal it back. Gryffindor defended himself with his wand, but did not kill his attackers. Instead he sent them back to their king bewitched, to deliver the threat that if he ever tried to steal from Gryffindor again, Gryffindor would unsheathe the sword against them all.

  The goblin king took the threat seriously and left Gryffindor in possession of his rightful property, but remained resentful until he died. This was the foundation for the false legend of Gryffindor’s theft that persists, in some sections of the goblin community, to this day.

  The question of why a wizard would need a sword, though often asked, is easily answered. In the days before the International Statute of Secrecy, when wizards mingled freely with Muggles, they would use swords to defend themselves just as often as wands. Indeed, it was considered unsporting to use a wand against a Muggle sword (which is not to say it was never done). Many gifted wizards were also accomplished duellists in the conventional sense, Gryffindor among them.

  Much like a magic wand, the sword of Gryffindor appears to be almost sentient, responding to appeals for help by Gryffindor’s chosen successors; and, similar to a wand, part of its magic is that it imbibes that which strengthens it, which can then be used against enemies.