Marion Norindale Books

Harry Potter may be a series in the technical term; but I’d like to argue it wasn’t initially meant to be one coherent saga, and the transition hindered the story more than helped it.

How could that be, you ask? The series is clearly the journey of the chosen one to defeat the feared Dark Lord Voldemort.

And I wouldn’t disagree with you there.

But I’m going to argue that that plotline wasn’t the original vision for the series—and it wasn’t intended to head down that road until it became clear future installments were going to be green-lit.

* * *

Disclaimer: you don’t have to agree with me, and this doesn’t mean you’re a bad person for liking these books. This is just an exercise in analysis, all taken in good fun.

* * *

To start, we’ve got to take a brief look at the conflicts of the first three books.

SORCERER’S STONE

Voldemort was there, but in a capacity where he could either be vanquished forever (if the book didn’t do well) or continue to make efforts to return (if future books became an option). The only plan we learned about was his attempt to possess Quirrell and steal the Sorcerer’s Stone. He never indicated if he had any machinations beyond that. It was a handy conflict to give the first book a compelling plot; but also to dispose of the villain in case he was uninteresting to readers, or the book didn’t do as well as was hoped.

This is actually a common tactic for debut novels. Publishers don’t like taking risks on series, and authors often don’t want to cut their stories off if a continuation might become possible down the road.

CHAMBER OF SECRETS

In a way, Voldemort was still the villain here, but in a capacity even further detached from his actions in the present day.

The real villain here was the half-soul stuck in Tom Riddle’s diary—a presence completely unconnected to and unaware of what was going on with current-day Voldemort. He may have once created the diary; but he wasn’t driving it to be rediscovered, nor did he have any of a hand in its ensuing actions. He probably didn’t even know anything had happened with it until after he’d returned in Goblet of Fire (provided Lucius Malfoy confessed to giving it away, of course).

One could argue that this book was about establishing the existence of the horcruxes. Though similar to the way Voldemort “returns” in book one, the foreshadowing of the horcruxes here is both occurring and not.

It’s never actually mentioned what a horcrux is in Chamber of Secrets. So if the series can’t continue? Then no one will be bothered, and no one has to know. But if it can? Then we can pretend it was relevant from the beginning.

PRISONER OF AZKABAN

Let’s be honest, Snape was the villain of this book. We touch on Voldemort a bit, but only in the sense of revealing the truth behind the actions committed concerning the Death Eaters years ago. Nothing in this installment contributed to what present-day Voldemort was doing. In fact, all we know is that he was sulking somewhere in a cave in a forest in Albania. (I’ve often wondered, why Albania? But I suppose that’s a tangent for another day.)

The first three books all dealt with the aftereffects of the First Wizarding War; but none really made any strides in an overarching plot involving Voldemort’s return. Sorcerer’s Stone introduced a momentary idea of his to possess a teacher and claim the title object to regain a physical body—but that was as far as his plans went. Once he was defeated at the end of the book, Dumbledore made some vague remarks about how he might return one day, but that was it. And present-day Voldemort didn’t show up again until Goblet of Fire—when, through a series of rather egregious coincidences, Peter Pettigrew happened to find the man, and the two happened to stumble upon the perfect set of ingredients to concoct a plot to bring the Dark Lord back.

* * *

For the next part of our argument, we must move on to the actual plot structure of the individual books.

You may be asking—what does that have to do with proving Harry Potter wasn’t meant to be a saga?

A lot more than you might think.

Each book, to some extent, follows the same basic setup—a mystery is introduced in the beginning, the characters spend the school year trying to solve it, and by the end, the climax reveals all relevant answers and defeats whichever villain was introduced.

Sorcerer’s Stone—who’s trying to steal the stone? Quirrell, who’s been possessed by Voldemort. Harry’s blood protection destroys Quirrell, thereby separating Voldemort from his host and ending his bid for the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Chamber of Secrets—who opens the Chamber of Secrets, and what is released? A possessed Ginny, who Lucius Malfoy slipped Tom Riddle’s diary. She unknowingly unleashes the basilisk upon the school. Harry slays the snake and saves Ginny.

Prisoner of Azkaban—will Sirius Black, alleged murderer of the Potters, succeed in killing Harry too? Though it turns out he wasn’t the one who betrayed his friends all those years ago—it was actually Ron’s pet rat Peter. And while Peter does end up getting away in the end, I’d argue this was the point where She-Who-Must-Not-be-Named was preparing to turn the series into a wider saga.

This structure works extremely well for a series where there isn’t one dominant plot thread holding everything in place. You see it used in Hallmark murder mysteries, long-form children’s series (which were popular around the time Harry Potter was published, I might add), and in many past and modern TV shows. Plot threads do often appear throughout these types of stories, like romances or the occasional multi-episode arc; but they remain reliant on shorter, contained arcs to carry the main material.

After Goblet of Fire, the format of Harry Potter attempts to evolve itself from standalone-mystery-style to the continuation of one dominant plot thread—an indicator that the idea to create the latter wasn’t always at the forefront.

I do think the possibility always existed, hence the first few books laying the groundwork with Tom Riddle’s diary and Voldemort still hanging around. But I don’t believe Harry Potter was written from the beginning with this in mind. I believe the first three books were written as their own sort of standalone adventures, and once the series’ popularity began to skyrocket, then Goblet of Fire ushered it into one continuous long-form story.

Goblet of Fire is a sweet spot where both of the formats work, at least for a moment. We haven’t yet begun to deal with the long-term repercussions of Voldemort returning, because he doesn’t return until the end. The mystery at hand—who put Harry’s name in the Goblet of Fire?—is still able to occupy the plot’s full attention, without sharing center stage with anything else.

But by Order of the Phoenix, the two plot structures have begun to conflict.

I don’t have many (read: any) nice things to say about this series’ creator. And while I’ll call this next point a “strong suit,” that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s an objective strength—just something I think she does better than other things.

The standalone-mystery format worked best for Harry Potter, and seems to be where Rowling had the easiest time in crafting her plots. But once the series transitioned, she tried to cling to the same form while simultaneously pushing the main plot forward, ending up with a rambling mess of mini-mysteries and occasional lurches within the main storyline.

Let’s take a closer look at books five, six, and seven to better illustrate my point.

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

The question in this installment is as follows: what is Voldemort looking for in the Department of Mysteries? And it turns out he wants to take a look at the full prophecy spoken about him and Harry.

The mysteries in the previous books were intrinsic to the plot, driving most of the action. But here, the mystery takes a backseat to what’s arguably the actual plot of Order of the Phoenix: the conflict with Umbridge.

I don’t think it’s unrealistic that Voldemort would’ve wanted to see the prophecy; but it mainly pops up because the mystery-and-answer format drove the first four books. It weaves in every now and again, providing a punch to remind us it still exists in the background, but it isn’t really that consequential. (And no, I don’t believe Sirius Black’s death needed to happen in order to set any future relevant plot points in motion.)

Let me explain, before you drive over to my house to hit me with a bag of oranges.

In theory, Harry doesn’t actually have to be concerned with the prophecy. In fact, nobody does. Dumbledore knew the whole thing the entire time. If Harry really wanted to know it, then Dumbledore could’ve just told him.

And why didn’t he? Because Dumbledore conveniently couldn’t talk to Harry for the entirety of the book.

The explanation for why isn’t necessarily a bad one, nor one that conflicts egregiously with the established lore (seeing as it’s the first time we’re hearing about this phenomenon). But it’s clearly only there so Dumbledore can’t talk to Harry and drastically alter the course of the plot.

Regardless of whether or not Dumbledore could’ve talked to Harry, he still could’ve handled the situation with the prophecy in a vastly different and far more efficient manner. The only problem was if Voldemort ever managed to see it himself. But that problem could’ve easily been remedied. Dumbledore could’ve sent Harry to take the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, hidden or even destroyed it, and then set a few guards in wait for the Death Eaters. Forget about Arthur Weasley having to risk his life—just remove the prophecy and set the whole thing up as a trap.

So why wasn’t that the case?

Because the book still needed to follow the mystery-and-answer format.

The conflict with Umbridge could’ve easily carried the book, but it wasn’t the same structure Rowling was used to. So something else had to be introduced—even if the main plot had to be manipulated to make the new subplot fit.

HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

The plot here is stretched to its absolute limit. If you found something to enjoy in Half-Blood Prince, then I must congratulate you, because there was so little happening in this book that I even found to have an opinion on in the first place.

Personal feelings aside, the plot of Half-Blood Prince furthers my theory that the series was at once clinging to its old pre-saga format at the same time it was required to embrace a larger plot, causing it to trip upon itself.

The relevant plot points here are the revelation of the horcruxes, and whatever Draco is doing in the background. While Draco’s machinations would’ve provided an adequate (or at least plot-relevant) foundation for the mystery, for some reason, Rowling decided to go with the owner of Harry’s old Potions textbook instead.

The mystery of the Half-Blood Prince tells us literally nothing new about Snape. We already knew he was good at potions (he’s the teacher, for goodness’ sake), and he’s had violent tendencies since he was a kid.

All Harry gets out of the textbook are: the formula that helps him to craft a quality enough potion to earn him Liquid Luck; and the spell that almost slices Draco to pieces. Neither were reliant upon the textbook having belonged to Snape. And even if that was the case, the previous owner of the textbook is completely irrelevant to the series’ main plot. It’s just a mystery thrown in for the sake of having a mystery. Harry could’ve realized early on it was Snape’s; or Half-Blood Prince could’ve been renamed and focused more heavily on something that was actually relevant to defeating Voldemort.

DEATHLY HALLOWS

One day I may pen up a separate dissertation on how Deathly Hallows is a useless mess of a book; but today, we’ll try to stay on track.

The Deathly Hallows don’t actually matter.

I know, they’re the title of the book; but when you think about it, the Deathly Hallows don’t actually matter. They’re only there to form the final mystery of the series, even if the mysteries stopped mattering around book five.

Before you gather the torches and the angry townspeople, I beseech you to hear me out.

What important plot information do we glean in this last book? What the final horcruxes are, and how to destroy them.

What important developments happen? Harry and his friends find the final horcruxes, destroy them, and defeat Voldemort.

Does any of this have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?

No.

But wait, you say—Harry uses the Elder Wand to defeat Voldemort! Doesn’t that mean the Deathy Hallows were relevant after all?!

Not really. All the Elder Wand needed to be was…well, a wand. At that point, Voldemort was mortal again, able to be killed in the same way as anybody else. And if Harry needed to be the master of said wand in order to deflect Voldemort’s killing spell back at him, then he still could’ve been. I don’t remember off the top of my head if the whole “disarm the master of the Elder Wand to gain control of it” thing was a unique phenomenon to just the Elder Wand; but it could’ve easily been established as the way anybody could gain control of any wand.

Harry had also just avoided dying by Voldemort’s hand. So even if he wasn’t the master of whatever the wand was, he could’ve just jumped out of the way in time, or survived the killing curse the same way he previously had.

But wait, you implore—even if the wand wasn’t necessary, Harry still had to become the Master of Death when he went to face Voldemort, didn’t he? How else could he have survived that encounter?

Well, Dumbledore explained exactly how Harry survived that encounter—and it had nothing to do with the Hallows at all, but his mother’s blood protection.

All right; but without the ring being a Hallow, how else could Harry have gotten a glimpse of his family again before he “died”?

I seem to recall ghosts are a common occurrence in the Wizarding World. They pop in and out of the school at will, throw parties, play pranks, and even hold jobs. I’m not entirely sure why the ghosts sometimes appear and sometimes don’t, because those rules are never explained to us. Regardless, we never receive a reason for why certain ghosts are allowed to hang around, yet others require summoning from a ring that was just made up one book ago to provide an irrelevant plot point.

What about Harry’s cloak, you say? Isn’t it special?

It’s not mentioned that the cloak is special until the very last book (or Half-Blood Prince, if I’m remembering incorrectly; but I’m fairly sure it’s Deathly Hallows). Nowhere earlier in the series does anyone act as if Harry’s cloak is unusual. Crouch Jr. uses an invisibility cloak to sneak into the Quidditch World Cup. At no point in any of the first six books does anybody ever comment on how the charms of invisibility cloaks usually wear off. Nobody acts as if Harry’s cloak is incredibly rare, either. The only reason he withholds its existence from others is when he wants to keep it to himself.

Okay, but what about the ring? The ring had to exist, and therefore the Deathly Hallows had to be relevant, right?

The existence of the ring relies in no way on its status as a Hollow. It just had to be cursed to accidentally trigger Dumbledore’s death (although even that in itself didn’t have to be the case, since Snape was going to kill Dumbledore anyway). I’ve already covered above why it’s ridiculous to have a special means of summoning ghosts, when ghosts seem to be able to come and go from this world at will.

None of the Hallows were necessary in aiding Harry in any way—in helping him survive, nor in destroying the final horcruxes.

The diary was destroyed back in Chamber of Secrets, long before the Hallows were even mentioned. Dumbledore took care of the ring with his magic. Harry and his friends retrieved the locket from Umbridge at the Ministry of Magic, then broke it with the Sword of Gryffindor. The trio retrieved Helga Hufflepuff’s cup from Gringotts, which Ron and Hermione then smashed with the basilisk fangs. The diadem was destroyed by Crabbe triggering fiendfyre. Neville killed Nagini with the Sword of Gryffindor. And lastly, Voldemort offed Harry, accidentally sealing his own demise.

The last book had a lot going on with it already, what with the hunt for the horcruxes in full swing. I often joke that the Deathly Hallows were only there to provide a title for the final book; although I think Harry Potter and the Final Horcrux would’ve sounded just as snazzy, to be honest.