Deathly Hallows, Chapter 10: Kreacher's Tale

[oneandthetruth.livejournal.com]

Author’s note: This installment contains spoilers for the second season episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer called “Lie to Me.”

It also becomes obvious at the end that sporking this book was beginning to wear on me emotionally.

I loved the summary Dan Hemmens came up with for this chapter: “In which we are told firmly that Sirius black was NOT GAY.” (Emphasis his.)

The next morning, Harry wakes up before Ron and Hermione. As he lies there, the first of his doubts about Dumbledore surface. He actually wonders if Albus was on the same moral level as Dudley, i.e., able to shrug off the abuse of others, as long as he wasn’t suffering himself. Hey, why not, Harry? Most of the people in my family are experts at that. I know that must be a lot more common than anyone wants to acknowledge.

Harry wonders about the Godric’s Hollow connection and starts to feel resentment at all the unanswered questions Albus left behind: What’s the purpose of those objects he left them in the will? Why didn’t Dumbledore explain himself more clearly, or for that matter at all? Did he really care about Harry, or was Harry just one more tool in the master manipulator’s hands, to be used and thrown away?

I can answer those questions, Harry. Respectively, the answers are: You’ll find out eventually, but the solution is not nearly as interesting as either you or we might hope. Because he didn’t give a rat’s ass whether anybody else understood or approved of his plans and actions, and he thought he was so Super!Awesome!Wonderful!Magnificent! that he didn’t have to explain himself to lesser beings such as yourself. No, he didn’t care, and yes, you were and are just a tool.

Harry can’t stand lying there thinking “bitter thoughts.” Poor Harry. He’s stuck in a very sick book series that will never allow him or anyone else to be a fully developed, emotionally mature human being. If he hadn’t already turned his back on the normal, I mean “muggle” world, he could watch the sublime TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer and understand what he’s going through.

In early November 1997, the masterpiece episode “Lie to Me” ran (written and directed by series creator Joss Whedon). In it, Buffy’s old friend Ford suddenly arrives in town. She’s just happy to see him, but fortunately for her, her friends are not so sanguine. It turns out Ford is dying of a brain tumor, and he’s made a deal with the local vampire gang to hand Buffy over to them on the condition they give him eternal life by turning him into a vampire. Buffy escapes, and at the end of the episode, she and her Watcher (advisor and mentor), Giles, are in the cemetery waiting for Ford to rise from his grave. The following is quoted from a fan made transcript I found on the Internet.

Dissolve to the cemetery. Buffy has tears in her eyes as she lays a bouquet of red roses on Ford's grave. She stands up again and walks back to Giles.

Buffy: I don't know what I'm supposed to say.

Giles: You needn't say anything.

Buffy: It'd be simpler if I could just hate him. I think he wanted me to. I think it made it easier for him to be the villain of the piece. Really he was just scared.

Giles: Yes, I suppose he was.

Buffy: Nothing's ever simple anymore. I'm constantly trying to work it out. Who to love or hate. Who to trust. It's just, like, the more I know, the more confused I get.

Giles: I believe that's called growing up.

Buffy: I'd like to stop then, okay?

Giles: I know the feeling.

Buffy: Does it ever get easy?

Ford suddenly rises from his grave, a vampire just like he wanted, and attacks Buffy. She plunges a stake into his heart with no more effort than swatting a fly. He steps back and looks at the stake protruding from his chest. He looks back up and bursts into ashes.

Giles: You mean life?

Buffy: Yeah. Does it get easy?

Giles: What do you want me to say?

Buffy: Lie to me.

Giles: Yes, it's terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and, uh, we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.

Buffy: Liar.

That’s the difference between Buffy and Harry. Harry starts having questions and experiencing doubts about “the wizard he had idolized,” and he thinks he’s being bitter. No, he’s being honest. He’s thinking for himself. He’s doing what adults are supposed to do: examine the evidence, deal with reality, and form an opinion of their own.

By contrast, the message of the HP series lies in Giles’s last lines: Everything is simple, with clear cut distinctions between good and evil. There’s no need to examine the evidence or think for yourself because the answers never change, and everything you need to know will be told to you by the appropriate authority figure. If you are kept ignorant, it’s for your own good. Asking questions or thinking for yourself are things only bad, disobedient people do. I’ll get into this subject in much more detail in chapter 18.

Back to the story:

Harry gets up and goes upstairs to see whether he can find anything useful to his Horcrux hunt in the bedrooms. As he looks at the messy rooms, he realizes somebody has already been searching the house, but who and for what? As he looks over Sirius’s former bedroom, he notices Sirius had been a typical teenager, i.e., the room had been decorated with the intention of really pissing off his parents.

Harry sees a picture of MWPP from their Hogwarts days, and the description of it shows Harry is still idealizing his father’s gang, the “much-admired rebels.” Admired by whom? Leaving Snape out of it entirely, I can recall no reference at all in the previous books to anyone’s admiring this bunch of bullies and sycophants. Harry again shows one of those [to him] uncomfortable and [to us] delightful and reassuring flashes of maturity and independence by wondering whether his assessment of the picture is accurate, or whether he is deceiving himself.

He also comes across a motorcycle maintenance manual, as if any self-respecting wizard would “go slumming” by doing repair work by hand, like one of those lowly muggles!

The most interesting thing he finds is--gasp!--a letter from Lily to Sirius! I found it fascinating, too, but not for the reasons Harry did, or we are supposed to as readers, i.e, because it foreshadows The Truth about Dumbledore!!! This is what set me thinking: (1) I noticed Lily has the same irritating habit of writing run-on sentences that J K Rowling does. Take a look at this nightmare: “One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself, I’m enclosing a picture so you can see.” Yes, that is a direct quote. (2) Lily has the same mean sense of humor her husband does: She thinks it’s funny Harry broke a vase Petunia gave them and nearly killed their cat while riding his broom. (3) Apropos of this, we never hear of any present Lily gave Petunia. Clearly, despite her “anti-freak” attitudes, Petunia tried to maintain her relationship with Lily by giving her presents. St. Lily is the one who treats Petunia’s sisterly affection like a joke, attacking her with magic and laughing when her gifts are destroyed. (Cue “Easy to Be Hard”) (4) Lily “cried all evening” when she found out the McKinnons were killed by DEs. Self-indulgent wimp! Everybody knows real women never cry for more than twenty minutes over anything! Probably “tears dripped from the end of her [dainty] nose” as she blubbered. Maybe she should have married fellow crybaby Snivellus Snape. Then they and their whiny kids could all have sat around blubbering together. (5) Bathilda Bagshot is a frequent visitor to the Potters. Remember her? She’s the one who knows all about the Dumbledores. She’s obviously shared some “inconvenient [for Albus] truths” because Lily doesn’t think he’d be happy if he knew what they’d heard. How much does anyone want to bet the Potters, blabbermouth Gryffindors that they were, told Albus all about Bathilda’s bean-spilling when he visited? They probably treated it like a big joke, just like they did most serious subjects. How unfortunate that they just happened to end up dead shortly after becoming “the family that knew too much.” Such untimely ends also serve as object lessons for others who might be inclined to talk, such as Bathilda herself. Once she became apparently senile, Albus had plausible deniability, so what she said no longer mattered.

Come to think of it...that “senility” was remarkably, ah, convenient, wasn’t it? It’s obvious Scumbledore decided Bathilda also “knew too much” and wanted to silence her. However, because she was an elderly noncombatant, not to mention well-known and -respected, killing her was more problematic than getting rid of the Potters, who were on active duty, if in hiding. But Bagshot’s age provided Albus with a ready-made out, allowing him to claim his mind-rape of her was just age-related mental deterioration. Given his immense power and skill as a wizard, he could even have made the mental damage appear gradual and natural, thus ensuring for himself the appearance of innocence.

After reading Lily’s letter, Harry goes numb, then feels “joy and grief...in equal measure.” He picks up on the reference to the borrowed invisibility cloak and realizes, “There was something funny there...” (Ellipses in original) Gee, ya think? Particularly when he recalls Scumbledore telling him, “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible.” Harry tries to come up with an explanation for this that doesn’t make his idol look bad. Yeah, keep trying, you poor, deluded kid.

Harry looks for the rest of the letter but instead finds only most of the photo referenced in it. Hermione finds him, and he tells her about his wish to visit Godric’s Hollow to talk to Bathilda, as well as what Muriel told him at the wedding. He’s had doubts planted in his mind by Rita Skeeter and Auntie Muriel, and he hopes Bagshot can give him the truth. Hermione acts like the good little suck up to authority figures that she is and tries to beat back Harry’s doubts, insisting Rita and Muriel are just malicious gossips, and laying a guilt trip on Harry by whining, “Doge was right, how can you let these people tarnish your memories of Dumbledore?” In other words, Harry knew Dumbledore, and that’s all he needs to know. That reminds me of the sappy song, “Don’t Know Much” (written by Barry Mann, Cynthia Weil, and Tom Snow):

I don’t know much,

But I know I love you.

That may be all I need to know.

I don’t know much,

But I know I love you.

That may be all there is to know.

Maybe that slop should be renamed, “The Good German Theme Song.” The attitude that “my feelings are all that matter, the facts can go hang, especially if they make me feel bad” is textbook codependent, enabler thinking. It’s the passive evil that allows active evil to wreak havoc on the world.

To his great credit, Harry does not allow himself to be dissuaded by Hermione. “He looked away, trying not to betray the resentment he felt. There it was again: Choose what to believe. He wanted the truth. Why was everybody so determined that he should not get it?”

I can answer that, Harry. They’re afraid, for you and for themselves. They’re mainly afraid the truth is so horrible that if you find it out, you’ll pull the plug on Dumbledore’s puppet master manipulations of your life. Then you’d do one of two things they’d consider disastrous: (1) Say, “Screw this ‘chosen one’ crap, I’m outta here,” and abandon your “destiny,” thus forcing them to deal with Voldemort themselves. (2) Continue with your “destiny,” but make up your own plan that of course won’t work as well as Albus’s, and fail to vanquish Voldemort. Hah, hah, little do they know that Albus didn’t know what he was doing, either, so following his plan won’t work any better than what Harry would have come up with himself.

They’re also afraid of the truth themselves. They’re terrified they’ve been worshipping a false idol all these years, and if Harry confronts the truth about Dumbledore, they’ll have to, also. Most people are such moral and emotional cowards, they’ll do anything to avoid facing the ugly truth about one of their idols. Only the very mature and courageous can handle the reality of a loved and admired person as a deeply flawed human being.

Hermione cleverly distracts Harry by suggesting they go get breakfast. She’s been around teenage boys enough to know they’re always hungry, so this ruse will usually work.

As they pass by Regulus’s bedroom, Harry notices the sign on the door and shows Hermione. She calls Ron upstairs, and they all enter the bedroom. It’s a shrine to Slytherin, including articles about Voldemort clustered on the wall. “A little puff of dust rose from the bedcovers as [Hermione] sat down to read the clippings.” Fortunately, this dust did not resolve itself into a Dust Bunny from Hell, or their search for the locket would have ended then and there. Harry sees a Hogwarts Quidditch team photo with Regulus in the front row. Of course, being a slimy Slytherin, he is a smaller, skinnier, and less attractive version of his brother, Super!Awesome!Cool!Gryffindor! Sirius. Their search of the bedroom for the locket is in vain.

Then they remember that when they were cleaning all the “junk” out of the house two years ago, they threw out a locket. Harry remembers that Kreacher kept some of the discards, so he invades the elf’s privacy by going through his personal property. The locket isn’t there, but Kreacher tells them that’s because Mundungus Fletcher stole it and fenced it. They learn the whole sorry story of the locket: Voldemort borrowed Kreacher from Regulus and took the elf to the cave by the sea. He then ordered Kreacher to drink the potion in the basin so Voldy could hide the locket there. (Which raises the question: Why didn’t Voldy just bring the locket and the potion to the cave together, then put the locket in the basin before putting the potion in it? Wouldn’t that have been a lot less trouble?) Voldy left Kreacher to die, not realizing an elf could Apparate out when a wizard or witch couldn’t. Ron gets a brief moment in the sun as he points out this magical difference.

Hermione pretends to be enlightened as she expresses contempt for the Dull Lord, saying, “...Voldemort would have considered the ways of house elves far beneath his notice...It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn’t.” Oh, like the way Hermione considered the ways of her highly educated professional parents beneath her notice when she decided for them that they needed to leave the country? Of course, they didn’t have magic, so I guess that makes it all right. *eye roll*

It’s been said that the reason Regulus left the DEs is because he didn’t approve of Voldy’s treatment of Kreacher, but that’s not what the text says. It says he was “very worried” when he found out what had happened to the elf and told Kreacher to stay hidden in the house. Then one night shortly after, he came to Kreacher “disturbed in his mind” and asked the elf to take him to the cave. Yes, Regulus apparently didn’t like what had happened to Kreacher, but there’s no indication a connection exists between that disapproval and his mental disturbance afterward. It’s also possible, even likely, he had experienced something in his duties as a DE that had put him off the organization. For example, he may have thought torturing and killing mudbloods and muggles sounded like great fun--until he actually had to do it. Then the blood and screaming may have gotten to him and convinced him this wasn’t a group whose aims he could support. Or he could have put an experience with the DEs together with the abuse of Kreacher and decided to leave. There is no clear indication about what happened to turn him against Voldemort.

Kreacher tells the Trio he took Regulus to the cave, where his master drank the potion, then gave the locket to Kreacher and ordered him to destroy it. The elf was permanently traumatized when he “disobeyed” his master by being unable to carry out this order.

Hermione tries to comfort him with a hug, but Kreacher says he can’t allow a mudblood to touch him. Harry reminds Kreacher he’d been ordered not to use that word, so the elf starts banging his head on the floor in self-punishment. Hypocrite Hermione shrieks, “Stop him--stop him! Oh, don’t you see how sick it is, the way they’ve got to obey?” OH, YOU MEAN LIKE YOUR PARENTS HAD TO OBEY WHEN YOU STOLE THEIR IDENTITIES AND SHIPPED THEM TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD? SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP, YOU EVIL, LYING, SANCTIMONIOUS SACK OF SHIT!

So help me GOD, I am sick of the raging hypocrisy and dishonesty in this book, and this whole damned SERIES!

Hermione lectures Harry some more about poor, suffering Kreacher: Sirius was mean to him, so it was perfectly reasonable for the elf to betray Sirius and do the bidding of Narcissa and Bellatrix because they were nice to him. Oh, you mean like St. Albus Dumbledore was mean to Severus Snape, so Snape joined the Death Eaters because they were nice to him? Of course, that’s totally different, isn’t it? GRRRRRRR.

Harry asks Kreacher to find Mundungus, and then gives him the fake locket Regulus left in the basin. The creates another Kreacher collapse as he is overcome with the honor of having his very own (phony) Black family treasure.

Jeez! I just about had a collapse sporking this chapter! The next one better be easier, or I may be too traumatized to continue. >:-(

Comments

[sweettalkeress.livejournal.com]

"Hermione lectures Harry some more about poor, suffering Kreacher: Sirius was mean to him, so it was perfectly reasonable for the elf to betray Sirius and do the bidding of Narcissa and Bellatrix because they were nice to him. Oh, you mean like St. Albus Dumbledore was mean to Severus Snape, so Snape joined the Death Eaters because they were nice to him? Of course, that’s totally different, isn’t it? GRRRRRRR."

When I first read this particular line of Hermione's I thought it was well-done because it presented the idea that the Slytherins may have actually done some good for someone (that is, Kreacher) even if they were otherwise racist. I didn't see it as an inconsistency with Dumbledore's treatment of Snape because I thought it was meant to suggest genuine moral complexity. Of course, since nothing else in this story is remotely complex....