First Things First…
My first time or two reading the series, Sirius Black was my favorite character. Dumbledore eventually surpassed him, but Sirius is still way up there. So his introduction is one of the reasons I love this book. And Lupin has steadily risen in my personal character power rankings over the years and multiple readings, too.
12 Things I Like
12. Sir Cadogan
I love how Rowling creates zany side characters and finds something for them to do. In this case, it’s a ridiculously inept knight in a painting who challenges anyone who walks by. These characters usually don’t do anything critical—the story would survive without Sir Cadogan—but he’s introduced, he does his thing and makes me laugh, and he doesn’t overstay his welcome.
11. Trelawney Triggers Exasperation
Professor Trelawney is another fun new character. She’s important because of her real prediction that Voldemort’s servant is about to return to him. And little do we realize it’s in reference to the long-thought-dead Peter Pettigrew, NOT Sirius Black.
But what I enjoy about Trelawney much more is the exasperation she causes my two favorite “serious” witches, Hermione and McGonagall.
Hermione doesn’t buy into her bullshit “predictions” from their very first class. When Trelawney reads Harry’s tea leaves and claims he has a deadly enemy, Hermione points out that she’s just stating a fact, not predicting the future.
And when Trelawney nearly loses her shit because she sees the Grim and predicts Harry’s death, Hermione flatly denies it looks like a Grim.
Even better is Hermione’s last Divination class, though. When Trelawney tells the class that the fates have informed her their final exam will include gazing into a crystal ball, Hermione snorts and says—loudly—“Well, honestly… ‘the fates have informed her’… who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!” before walking out on the class.
And then there’s McGonagall…
Things with her are rocky from the start because the Gryffindors’ concern over Harry’s death omen have them too worried to even applaud her transfiguring into a cat.
And when she finds out the reason they’re all subdued, she tells them Trelawney always predicts a student’s death—which has never come true—and says, “If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues—“ which, of course, is a great way of speaking ill of her colleague.
At the Christmas lunch, Trelawney comes to the Great Hall to join everyone, but when she suddenly realizes she would be the 13th person at the table and refuses to sit down to join them, McGonagall impatiently says, “We’ll risk it, Sybill. Do sit down, the turkey’s getting stone cold.”
And she questions why Trelawney would ask about Lupin when she must’ve already known he was ill, then continues to throw barbs at her, right to her face.
McGonagall is usually the consummate professional, but Trelawney brings out the worst in her, and it’s glorious.
10. Unlikely Role Model
It’s cool to see Hagrid get a teaching job this year, taking over as the Care of Magical Creatures professor. But his happiness is short-lived, since Malfoy ruins things, gets himself a scratch from Buckbeak, and nearly gets Hagrid fired.
He also sets in motion the bureaucratic bullshit that’s going to get Buckbeak executed.
Despite all this—and despite often being a drunken, blubbering mess—Hagrid proves his worthiness again. It’s not just that he has his heart in the right place. There are ways in which Hagrid is a true role model, especially for Harry and Ron.
This mainly comes across in two ways—how he takes care of Buckbeak and the way he talks to them about Hermione.
He wants “Beaky” to live out his final days as happily as possible.
And he gives Harry and Ron a powerful, paternal talking-to about Hermione. He fills them in on the fact that she’s come down to his hut on her own a lot, cried a bunch of times, and found time to build his case for Buckbeak.
Harry gets uncomfortable about neglecting to help with the case, since he and Ron had said they would, but Hagrid ends by saying, “I’m not blamin’ yeh! Gawd knows yeh’ve had enough ter be getting’ on with. I’ve seen yeh practicin’ Quidditch ev’ry hour ‘o the day an’ night—but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two’d value yer friend more’n broomsticks or rats. Tha’s all.”
Honestly, Hagrid’s role in this book is nonessential. He’s mainly a plot device to get Buckbeak in a position to be part of Operation: Let these two kids turn back time, do crazy shit, and hope nothing goes wrong and also to heighten the feud between Harry and Malfoy.
Yet, he still proves himself again to be one of the best male influences in Harry’s life.
9. Harry vs. Draco Escalates
Speaking of this rivalry, things get more heated than ever between Harry and Draco. (And remember, Malfoy was outwardly hoping Hermione would get killed by Slytherin’s monster in their previous year.)
Malfoy tries to stick it to Harry in so many ways, and Harry’s reaction to the Dementor on the Hogwarts Express gives him some ammunition…
He mocks Harry relentlessly for falling off his broom and losing Gryffindor’s Quidditch match versus Hufflepuff because Dementors showed up at the stadium. But he gets even more malicious later. He, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint dress up as Dementors and try to trigger the same reaction from Harry when Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw.
Malfoy also blatantly fakes being injured by Buckbeak long after Madam Pomfrey healed his scratch—just for the sake of hurting Hagrid to spite Harry. He even celebrates the fact that his ruse is going to get Buckbeak killed.
And there are also the little shots, like getting Snape to force Harry and Ron to cut his ingredients in Potions because of his “injured” arm.
On the other hand, Draco deals with the same stuff that makes him resent Harry as always…
Like Harry getting a Firebolt for Christmas…
And escaping any trouble (at least in terms of detention—he’s still made to feel awful by Lupin) after sneaking out to Hogsmeade and throwing mud at Malfoy from under the Invisibility Cloak.
Things are just getting worse between these two.
8. Snape’s Vitriol
I know some readers aren’t on board with Snape. He’s too cruel. He’s too pathetic. And I get it.
He shouldn’t be allowed to teach children. Under any circumstances. No matter how much Dumbledore trusts him, or how brilliant he is.
That said, these books require a certain amount of suspension of disbelief (beyond magic, that is).
The wizarding world simply plays by a different set of rules than Muggles.
And part of that is because there are way fewer members of their world.
Remember, in Chamber of Secrets, Ron makes the point during a discussion about purity of blood that if wizards didn’t start marrying Muggles and having half-blood children, their kind would’ve all died off by now.
So exceptions sometimes have to be made.
Also, their world seems like it’s much more tolerant of danger. We see that time and again in how much trust Dumbledore places in Harry.
So even though Dumbledore should never have hired Snape, I can get past that.
And when I do, I recognize that he’s incredibly compelling. Yes, he’s a bully toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione. And especially toward Neville.
It’s not right. And it’s not forgivable.
But he also has complex motivations.
He stretchers Harry, Ron, and Hermione back up to the castle instead of leaving them out in the open, with a werewolf on the loose. And that’s AFTER they attacked him and knocked him unconscious.
He also has good reason to be furious about Lupin getting hired. And having to be the one who brews his potion every month. All the while having his doubts dismissed by Dumbledore.
And we learn a little more about his rivalry with James from their days at Hogwarts. Which makes it even worse that he has to look out for Harry, which he’s been doing since Harry first arrived at Hogwarts.
And even though he relishes it far too greatly, he’s 100% right when he says:
Everyone from the Ministry of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences.
In this same scene, Snape glories in belittling James. He says:
How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter. He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers… The resemblance between you is uncanny.
Clearly Snape is not a well-adjusted adult. But that’s part of what makes him compelling. This wouldn’t be a very interesting story if Hogwarts hired nothing but world-class teachers who all loved working with kids and didn’t let their personal problems bleed into their work.
But that’s not the world they live in. And let’s be honest…that’s not the world we live in, either.
So I’ll take Snape—(massive) warts and all. Unfair though his treatment of his Gryffindor students may be, he’s always compelling. And at this point in the series, the promise of his back story continuing to unfold is more tantalizing than that of any other character.
7. The Marauders’ Map
This is one of the coolest (and most useful) magical items we’ve encountered so far in the series. Not just because it maps out the entire school and grounds at Hogwarts—complete with secret passageways—but because it basically has built-in GPS for every single person (and some animals—not sure what the rules are) who’s there.
It allows Harry to make a couple of unauthorized visits to Hogsmeade. And it helps Lupin start to put the pieces together for what’s really going on when he sees Peter Pettigrew’s name on it, which seemed impossible to him.
But just as important as the role it plays is where the map comes from. It’s another key insight into the past. Its creators—Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs—are actually Lupin, Pettigrew, Sirius, and James. They were best friends at Hogwarts. And three of them secretly became Animagi so they could keep Lupin company and roam the grounds together when he transformed into a werewolf every month.
It’s a key symbol because, once Lupin takes it from Harry, he could (and probably should) turn it in to Dumbledore to see if Sirius is going to break into Hogwarts through one of the secret passageways. But he doesn’t, because to do so would’ve admitted that he betrayed Dumbledore’s trust.
One of my favorite aspects of this, actually, is when Harry recalls Mr. Weasley’s words to Ginny at the end of Chamber of Secrets when talking about Tom Riddle’s diary—“Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.”
Nevertheless, we find there’s no malice in the map (so it would seem), only mischief (hence, “Mischief managed.”) So I’m glad Lupin returns it to Harry at the end of the book for more adventures.
6. The Boggart in the Wardrobe
I love this entire chapter. It starts with Lupin propping up Neville after Snape does his worst bullying yet by mocking Neville to another of his teachers, in front of his entire class.
But dealing with the boggart—it’s just one of the most pure fun chapters there have been so far. Everyone (except Hermione and Harry) gets a chance to battle the boggart, so we see all their deepest fears. Some are funny, some are gross.
But even more than that, it’s gratifying and uplifting to see the students have a great class like this, and to watch their confidence grow right before our eyes.
And, we get the added benefit of Harry NOT getting to fight the boggart.
This makes him question himself and wonder if Lupin doesn’t think he’s strong enough to handle it. He later asks Lupin about it. Harry is impressed that Lupin doesn’t deny keeping Harry from fighting it. And also, that Lupin says Voldemort’s name when he explains that he assumed the boggart would take the shape of Voldemort, but Harry reveals he was really scared of the Dementors.
5. Tension Brewing Between Dumbledore and Snape
Despite Dumbledore placing his full trust in Snape by having him on staff (though no one outside of Slytherin would likely agree with his assessment), Snape still questions Dumbledore’s decisions—notably, his decision to hire Lupin.
Snape had been convinced throughout the book, we discover later, that Lupin was still in contact with Sirius and would help him get inside Hogwarts to harm Harry.
He’s wrong, of course, as Lupin only discovers Sirius’ innocence as we do. But the evidence that Snape is right—though circumstantial—is compelling.
When the students are sleeping in the Great Hall following Sirius’ intrusion of the castle, Snape reminds Dumbledore of a conversation they had before the start of term. Dumbledore says he remembers, and Harry notes “there was something like warning in his voice.”
Snape continues with his misgivings in hushed tones, saying, “It seems—almost impossible—that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed—“
But Dumbledore dismisses this sternly, saying, “I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it,” and again Harry notes “… his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn’t reply.” Snape just looks on “… with an expression of deep resentment on his face” as Dumbledore leaves to talk with the Dementors.
This is all before anything had been revealed about Lupin’s friendship with Sirius, so it’s unclear what they’re talking about. But it becomes even more interesting when we understand it all relates back to Harry and James in some way.
And this becomes much more explicit at the end when Snape and Dumbledore butt heads because Dumbledore is leaning toward believing the truth about Sirius.
When Dumbledore doesn’t dismiss the story he just heard from Sirius out of hand, Snape snarls, “And does my evidence count for nothing?”
And when Dumbledore insists on speaking with Harry and Hermione alone, it gets even worse. When Snape realizes Dumbledore is considering this story, despite Snape himself insisting he never saw any sign of Pettigrew, he takes a step toward Dumbledore and says, “Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen. You haven’t forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven’t forgotten that he once tried to kill me?”
The tension between these two—who trust each other implicitly, it would seem, yet aren’t listening to each other right now—is greater than we’ve ever seen.
4. Dementors
The dementors are such an interesting creation. They’re on the side of good as the prison guards of Azkaban. But they’re undeniably evil creatures.
Just look at our introduction to them, on the Hogwarts Express…
“Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin’s hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry’s eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…“
And in that same scene, the dementor…
“…drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings… An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart…”
Nothing could make them seem more horrifying than the fact that Harry fears them more than he fears Voldemort…
Except maybe the way Dumbledore feels about them.
We get a sense of this after the teachers finish searching the castle, when Percy seems surprised the dementors didn’t help. Dumbledore says they did indeed want to help, but that “I’m afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster.”
They affect pretty much everyone, sucking the happiness from whoever is near them. But they affect Harry worst of all, which makes them even more fascinating.
It’s also interesting that they have clear weaknesses. They can’t see. They don’t seem to have personalities, just base instincts and drives, like the hunger to feed on people’s emotions.
They’re essentially forces of nature. Evil forces of nature.
3. Harry’s Anger—and Compassion
Harry goes through a range of emotions throughout this book. At first, he’s unafraid of Sirius, maybe even arrogant, though he claims he’s not trying to be a hero or anything.
But things change when he discovers Sirius is his godfather and was his father’s best friend—believing he was the one responsible for leading Voldemort to them. And not just in some vague way—he believes there was literal magic involved, which seems like the ultimate betrayal.
When Hermione and Ron finally get to talk to Harry the next morning, it’s rife with tension. They’re walking on eggshells, trying to tell him how he feels, when in reality, Harry doesn’t even know how he feels. He’s confused and angry that no one told him about this before. They practically plead with him not to let his anger get the best of him and go out looking for Black.
We see Harry’s anger fully formed in the Shrieking Shack, when he feels the urge to kill Sirius and actually attacks him with his bare hands:
“He had forgotten about magic—he had forgotten that he was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man—all Harry knew was that he wanted to hurt Black as badly as he could and that he didn’t care how much he got hurt in return—”
And when Harry has Black dead-to-rights with his wand aimed at him (and Crookshanks on top of him), his thought process is…
“So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black… If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business… If Black wanted to save it, that only proved he cared more for Crookshanks than for Harry’s parents…”
But as the seconds lengthen, Harry can’t bring himself to do it.
Maybe out of goodness, maybe out of cowardice. (Obviously, it works out for the best, since it’s only after this that he finds out the truth about Sirius.)
But we see genuine compassion and goodness when he spares Pettigrew’s life.
After Sirius finally gets Pettigrew to confess his crimes and cowardice, he’s about to kill him when Harry springs forward, screaming “NO!” and places himself in front of Pettigrew. He identifies (correctly, according to Dumbledore) that his father would’ve done the same thing.
It sets up a complicated situation for the future. Since Pettigrew manages to escape, he’s now (again, according to Dumbledore) in Harry’s debt because he owes Harry his life. It’s unclear if this is another form of ancient magic, or if Dumbledore just means from a moral perspective. But it should be interesting nonetheless.
But what I like best about Harry in this context is his growth and development. He’s going through things that, only two years earlier, he never had the slightest idea would—or even could—be a part of his life. And it’s fascinating to see how someone his age handles these life-or-death situations, and this news about the parents he’s never known.
2. Lupin’s Struggles and Self-Loathing
There’s so much bubbling just below the surface with Lupin. We learn he’s been torn all school year about whether to tell Dumbledore that Sirius is an Animagus. By not telling him, he risks everyone’s safety—especially Harry’s—because no one knows to look for a huge dog.
One of the most heart-wrenching passages in the book is when Lupin says, with his voice full of self-disgust…
“All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me… and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.“
Honestly, he’s probably right to call himself a coward. If he has really believed all year that Sirius was guilty of all he was accused of, and that Harry was the one he was after, then neglecting to say something about that is wrong, no matter how you look at it.
That’s not to say Lupin isn’t courageous in other ways. Even trying to be part of society, and teaching these kids, is an act of courage in its own right.
1. The Truth About Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew
I love learning more about Harry’s parents, Voldemort’s demise, and everything surrounding it.
The Marauders are ripe for further exploration. But here at least, we learn the truth that led to James and Lily’s deaths—everyone feared a traitor in their midst, they made Peter their secret-keeper at the last minute instead of Sirius, but Peter was actually the traitor. He had the power to keep Voldemort from ever finding them simply by keeping their secret from him—that’s the power of the Fidelius Charm.
But by giving away their secret, Voldemort found them without a problem.
Pettigrew also killed all the Muggles Sirius was imprisoned for killing. He just framed him, then transfigured into Wormtail and ran away unseen.
The moment we discover he’s really been Scabbers all along is such a WTF moment, too. But it all fits, right down to Scabbers’ missing toe matching Peter’s finger he cut off.
3 Things I’m Mixed About
3. Aunt Marge
Aunt Marge is even more cartoonish than the Dursleys, if that’s possible. Sure, it’s fun watching Harry “blow her up.” But her chapter is still kind of ridiculous. The idea that she’d be that blatantly and over-the-top cruel to him is hard to fathom. She actually compares him to a “weak, underbred, ratty looking” dog she had drowned. And she refers to Lily as a “bad egg” who “ran off with a wastrel,” and to James as “a no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger” right in front of Harry. And of course, she insists on the Dursleys’ original story about Harry’s parents. She says to Harry, “They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!”
As awful as it was that the Dursleys ever told Harry that lie and made him believe it until he was 11, at least they had a reason. And one could argue that they thought they were doing the right thing by trying to stamp out any possibility of Harry being involved in the magical world.
But there’s no reason in the world for Aunt Marge to bring this stuff up.
2. Friends Fight
Ron and Hermione fight on and off for almost the entire book, from the time Hermione gets Crookshanks until Ron tells her he’ll help with Buckbeak’s appeal. They both act like idiots in different ways. Ron is 100% right that Hermione doesn’t show enough regard for his pet by letting Crookshanks run free constantly. But he’s also a dick about it.
The whole thing is annoying. And yet it rings true. Friends fight. They get defensive. And they don’t want to admit they’re wrong.
I have more fun reading when Harry, Ron, and Hermione are on the same page. But friendships don’t always work that way. Having a fight like this is necessary every now and again to make their friendships believable.
1. Harry Gets a Firebolt
Harry already had the best broom, until Lucius Malfoy bought all the Slytherins Nimbus 2001’s when Draco joined the team. But after Harry’s Nimbus 2000 was eaten by the Whomping Willow, he gets an even better broom. In fact, he gets the best broom in the world—the one the entire Irish National Team will ride in the Quidditch World Cup.
As a plot device, this drives the wedge even deeper between Ron and Hermione (and between Harry and Hermione, to a lesser degree). And it proves Hermione’s friendship, while adding to Sirius’ connection with Harry at the end of the book.
But aren’t we supposed to see Harry as an underdog?
The Firebolt gives him the biggest advantage (at least in terms of equipment) a player can have in Quidditch. It’s hard to be impressed that Harry can outmaneuver Cho Chang and grab the Snitch against Ravenclaw when he’s riding the best broom in the world and she’s on a Comet.
2 Things I Don’t Like
2. Slytherin’s Quidditch Strategy
As we know because Oliver Wood won’t stop reminding Harry, when Gryffindor plays Slytherin in the final Quidditch match of the season, it’s not enough for Harry to catch the Snitch. Gryffindor needs to make up more than 200 points. So he can only catch it if they’re ahead by 60 or more. That’s the only way they’ll win the Quidditch Cup, too. Otherwise, they’d win the match, but Slytherin would still be champions.
So Slytherin just needs to use a nice conservative game plan, right?
Nope.
They’re aggressive beyond belief, get called for a ton of blatant fouls and give up all kinds of free points on penalty shots. They even attack Wood, Gryffindor’s keeper, with both Bludgers—a major no-no.
By not just resorting to these tactics, but using them from the start of the match, they basically hand Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup.
What makes this even dumber is that Harry is so much better than Draco. If Slytherin had done any strategizing at all, they’d have assumed Harry could beat Draco to the Snitch every time. So giving up free points should’ve been the absolute last thing they did.
Maybe the explanation is just that Rowling isn’t a sports fan and didn’t realize that no team would act like this with a championship on the line, even against their most hated rival.
Or maybe it’s totally intentional, to show just how much Slytherin despises Gryffindor.
But making the Slytherins seem this dumb on the Quidditch pitch is a bad look that actually diminishes Gryffindor’s win a little.
1. The Time-Turner
I should start by saying I don’t know how I’d do things differently. The Time-Turner is so fundamental to the climax of the book that I don’t even know where to begin if I wanted to rewrite the ending.
But it leaves plot holes galore, like all time-travel stories seem to…
Like, how is Harry’s future self always there to rescue him from the Dementors? Shouldn’t there have been a “first” version of Harry with no one there to save him?
Not to mention the way Hermione acts so weird to her best friends all book… and although they ask her about it repeatedly, they never press the issue, even when what they’re looking at is impossible. Harry and Ron never would’ve just let it go when she was being so vague and evasive.
This whole concept makes the story sloppier.
Oh, and the idea that this closely guarded and monitored magical object that could have drastic consequences if used improperly would be lent to a student just so she could take more classes—especially a student who always finds trouble because of who she hangs out with—is ludicrous.
Tim Matassa
