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Severus Snape has been a strange character from the first book, and his character, our knowledge of which was put into question by this last book, is somewhat of a mystery. What drives him? Why does he hate Harry, Sirius, and James so much? Harry's father seems to have "picked on" him in school, as did Sirius, but why would Snape hate Harry? Well, if you go back in series, there are several clues to why this might be. First of all, as has been stated in nearly every movie and book, Harry has his mother's eyes. JK Rowling has said herself that this will become very important later in the series, but to all current knowledge this idea of mother's eyes has not come to the forefront. Next, you may notice that in Sorcerer's Stone, Petunia Dursley said that her problems with Lily started when she "went off to that dratted school and met that awful boy." Nowhere is the "boy" named. Now, for starters, we know that James did not date Lily until their last few years together, when he was more mature. So, it seems that James would not be "that awful boy". After all, what would be so terrible about him, other than being a wizard? His hair? Possibly, but not likely, in my opinion. It seems likely that Snape was this "awful boy". Imagine, for a second, a young Severus Snape. Greasy hair, obsessed with the Dark Arts. More than likely a master of potions in his year. Imagine Lily Evans, charms expert, favorite student of Professor Horace Slughorn, founder of the Slug Club. Is it not likely that both Lily and Snape were in the Slug Club together? Is it not likely that their obvious talents in their respective magics made them...attractive to each other? Is it not possible that Lily could have dated this young Severus, possibly even brought him home, to introduce to her family and sister? Now, you may see what could have happened. Snape dug deeper into the Dark Arts. Lily, afraid of what might happen, broke up with him, leaving a bitter, broken-hearted Snape to scream "I don't need your help, Mudblood!" at her, when James was picking on him. Why else would Lily try to help him? He was obviously loathed by every student in school. Lupin said at one point that she was a very caring witch. To what extent? Did she help only him? Or was she attempting to help Snape? Or was she just hurt at seeing someone pick on a student that she had loved very much? No matter, Lily fell in love with James Potter, and had a son, Harry. Now we skip to the present day, where Severus Snape is reminded of the love that he lost every time he stares into Harry's face. What's more, Harry looks remarkably like James, which would no doubt add to the anguish, seeing the eyes of his lost love in the face of the man who stole her from him. Why else would Snape hate Harry from the very moment he saw him in Sorcerer's Stone? He stared at him from across the dining hall, no doubt shocked at seeing Lily's eyes for the first time in 11 years. So is Snape really the evil mastermind that we are made to think he is? Should Harry forgive him? Will a last-second desperate act of a love-sick man to save the only child of his schooltime-love be enough to save Harry from Voldemort? And in the end, will it be enough to convince Harry that he was wrong about Snape all along? Does Harry not have the gift of love? Surely this will come into play as he learns to forgive and forget the errors of Snape, thus relieving him of a burden that has laid on him for years.
Deathly Hallows Theories: Part 10
OK, so quick summary of what I BELIEVE to be true.
DISCLAIMER: This note is a THEORY. It is not to be taken as the work of J.K. Rowling, nor is it attempting to perform to her standards and/or belittle her incredible book series. It is simply the rantings of an excited fan, and it should be taken as such.
OK, now that that is over with, time for the summary.
1) Dudley Dursley will become a wizard. It is speculated that this has some tie-in to the howler sent by Dumbledore in Order of the Phoenix, in which he stated "Remember my last, Petunia.
2) The Horcruxes, as of this moment, are assumed to be: 1. Locket of Marvolo Gaunt 2. Ring (destroyed) 3. Diary (destroyed) 4. Nagini the Snake 5. Cup of Helga Hufflepuff 6. Something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw's.
As you can see, only four Horcruxes remain. The locket was undoubtedly mentioned in the Order of the Phoenix during the cleaning of the drawing room. Nagini, the snake, however, is something else. Voldemort mentions at the end of SS that possessing the bodies of snakes dramatically reduced their lifespans. It is to be assumed, then, that Voldemort is smart enough to not place a piece of his precious soul in a living organism whose lifespan will decrease with the placement of said soul piece inside of its body. I believe, then, that Voldemort, who always hated Dumbledore, wishes to transform something of Dumbledore's into a Horcrux. Namely his wand, which was blasted from the astronomy tower at the end of HBP and was never mentioned again, except to say that it was nowhere near the body. I will say, however, that the dream Harry had in Order, in which he saw through the eyes of Nagini, was very much a damper on this theory, in that supposedly Harry could only see what Voldemort saw. This, then, means that in order for my theory to be true, Voldemort must have been possessing Nagini that night, or he had performed the Imperius curse on her.
3) The prophecy, in my opinion, was not speaking of Harry. Nowhere does the prophecy say that it had a deadline by which it must be fulfilled. Therefore, I think that it was not talking about Harry. Harry does not have powers Voldemort knows not. OK, so he can "love." Big whoop. What's he going to do, hug him to death? I think the prophecy DOES refer to Neville, the scrawny, weak, timid boy who has played a major role in every book since SS. The boy whose powers have steadily increased with Harry's help since Order. The boy who the prophecy could have been about. Because Voldemort never thought about Neville. He has powers Voldemort knew not. And in the end battle, could Voldemort not verbally mark Neville as his equal, once Harry either admits that he is not the "chosen one", or dies performing some other noble act for his friends?
4) I was never appeased by Dumbledore's explanation of why Harry could see Voldemort's thoughts. What kind of accidental connection could possibly connect the very emotions, inner thoughts, and even physical awareness of two human wizards? Harry saw through Voldemort's eyes on several occasions in Order. And it is also odd to wonder from whose eyes he saw the image of Voldemort in the chair in the beginning chapter of Goblet of Fire. He said he saw the snake sitting on the hearth rug, so it could not have been from Nagini's eyes. And he even saw Voldemort himself, once the chair turned around. So from whose eyes did he see that dream? One is to assume Frank Bryce, but how? How could Harry see through the eyes of another person whom he had never met and had no connection with? The answer, I believe, connects all of these instances. In all of the instances, Harry saw through Voldemort's soul, be it through the soul in Voldemort's body, through the eyes of the snake, which we are assuming was either possessed or Imperiused, and even in the Hall of Prophecy. So how is Harry able to see these things? The answer, again, in my opinion, is that Harry's scar is a Horcrux. Not a known Horcrux, possibly not even by Voldemort himself. We may even be able to assume that Voldemort has actually created 6 other Horcruxes just as he intended, with the scar being one of which he may or may not be aware. It would answer many questions, would it not? It would explain how Harry is able to feel the thoughts and emotions of the Dark Lord even when he is nowhere near him. They are literally soul brothers. But it also brings to mind the question of: Will Harry have to sacrifice himself, in the end, to destroy Voldemort? If you believe that the prophecy is about Neville, as I do, then it is a likely conclusion.
So the question in everyone's mind is: How long will the boy who lived, live?
Deathly Hallows Theories: Part 9
"Ginny. I can't be with you right now. My enemies. They'll come after you. They'll use you to get to me. And I won't let you get hurt because of me."
OK, so it's not a direct quote, but does this sound familiar to anyone else? Like, for the Half-Blood Prince movie they should have Tobey McGuire and Kirsten Dunst playing that scene? Like, I half expected J.K. to throw the line:
"With great power comes great responsibility"
into the mix, just to round everything out nicely. So now that I've drawn a parallel, what's going to happen with this? In my opinion, Ginny is such a strong, independent woman that she's either:
A) Going to tell Harry: "Harry James Potter, I have waited 6 years to be your girlfriend, and I'm not giving it up that easily! I want you to be my baby's daddy!"
or B) She will convince Harry, through the use of her feminine magic (magic....yeah...>_> ) to let her go, at which point she will either:
a) Protect him, and they will live happily ever after b) Die saving him, at which point Harry will die a loveless old hermit c) or reluctantly and/or without knowing have Harry sacrifice himself to save her, at which point Neville will undoubtedly step in to fulfill his rightful place as the "chosen one" or "the boy who lived even though he was never attacked"
Harry Potter and the SS: Chapter 1 1/2: Number Four, Privet Drive
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
Chapter 1 ?
Number Four, Privet Drive
By Kevin Puett
Mr Vernon Dursley had been busy trimming the hairs of his immense mustache when he was jarred from his daily ritual by the sound of a scream downstairs and the breaking of glass. “VERNON!” cried his wife Petunia, sounding as if she had seen a ghost. “I’m coming, Petunia!” he yelled back, nearly tripping over his small son Dudley, who was busy playing with miniature battleships on the stairs, as he waddled down the hall toward the front door. “That’s my boy! Take the fight to the enemy!” He reached the front entrance, only to find Petunia stark-still in the threshold, one hand over her mouth, one pointing at a small bundle on the stoop. “Ver-ver-vernon! Look! It-it-it’s THEM!” Mr. Dursley peered over his wife’s boney shoulder to have a better look at what she was pointing at. On the stoop right outside the front door was a basket, no bigger than a small handbag. Inside, wrapped in blankets, was a young child, no more than a year old, who had quite obviously just been woken from a deep slumber. His wails pierced through the still morning air of Privet Drive, and beside him were pieces of glass from the milk bottles Petunia had been holding when she had opened the door. “Vernon, take him inside, hurry! The neighbors might see!” Petunia hissed at her husband through horse-like teeth as she craned her neck to see the windows of the surrounding houses. Vernon bent to pick up the basket. “There goes three bloody good milk bottles. We’ll never hear the end of it from that damn milkman.” “Vernon! Watch your language! We don’t want ickle Diddykins learning such awful language!” “Oh, rubbish. Who wants a little nancy boy for a son anyway? Dudley needs to learn to be a man, like his father. Wait, Petunia. What’s this?” Vernon had just noticed a letter stuck inside the basket. He pulled it out.
Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley The Kitchen Number 4, Privet Drive Little Whining, Surrey
“The Kitchen? Vernon, is someone watching the house? How would they know what room we are in?” “I don’t know, but I intend to find out!” Mr. Dursley reached to rip the envelope open, but the top came loose in his hand and the letter fell out, almost as if by magic. He opened the letter, quickly scanning it with his eyes. His face turned a shade of red, then purple, then white as he handed the paper to Petunia with shaking hands. “What’s wrong Vernon? What does it say?” Looking down at the page, an audible gasp escaped her lips.
My Dearest Dursley’s
My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. It is with deepest sadness that I must inform you that your sister Lily and her husband James Potter have been murdered this night at the hands of Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard of our age. Lily and James were most courageous in their attempts to thwart the plans of Voldemort, and no doubt in their passing they showed the same amount of courage. Their son, Harry, survived the ordeal by some miracle of which I am not yet sure. I ask that you care for him in place of his parents, as you would your own son. No doubt he will have very little, if any recollection of the occurrences of this night, but it is almost certain that he will have the same qualities that were held by his parents, namely the ability to perform magic. Though he does not know it, by surviving the attack of Voldemort, young Mr. Potter will become somewhat of a celebrity of the wizarding world. I consider it best, for his own upbringing, that he be raised away from such a burden until he is ready. I thank you both from the deepest reaches of my heart, and I offer you my most sincere condolences as you mourn the loss of your sister and her husband.
Albus Dumbledore Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot Order of Merlin, First Class
“Petunia….what does he mean…..a sister? What’s all this rubbish about wizards and Lord Voldythingy? What have you not been telling me?” “Vernon…..I….I never meant to keep it from you. I hated her so much. My perfect sister and her husband… that awful Potter. I tried to forget about her. I wanted to pretend that I never had a sister. My parents were so proud of her. Lily and her special talents.” She spat the words out like they were poison. “But she was a freak, and I was the only one that saw it, Vernon! The only one!” She began to cry. Her head was pressed against his shoulder, tears streaming down his pressed collar, her tiny fists beating away on his chest. “She received a letter, from this school, this Hogwarts. But of course they could not deliver it in the normal post! Those freaks! An owl brought it to our house. An OWL Vernon! A big beast of a bird flew right through the window and dropped it in her lap. She was so….happy. We had a witch in the family! My parents went and bought her all new clothes and books, and then she went off to that dreaded school, and met that awful boy. That greasy-haired monster! He was pure evil, Vernon, I swear to you he was! She brought him home one summer, and my parents were so excited. He made them potions. He even taught her how to make them. The entire house smelled like rotten eggs! It was horrible. But something happened, she never said what, and we never saw him again. And then she started dating that despicable Potter boy, and they ran off and got married and apparently had this little bundle of joy.” She threw her arm to the side, pointing at the now sleeping Harry. “Did you read the letter, Vernon? He’s going to be a wizard, just like her! We can’t have that in our house Vernon! What will the neighbors say?” “You’re right of course. We…we’ll give him up to an orphanage. Marge was just telling me about some brat that had been left on her friend Tess’ front stoop. Shipped him right off to St. Brutus’ they did, and rightly so! Imagine, filth like that living with us. I won’t have it Petunia! I will not be the sucker parent of some dead low-life’s child!” The veins in the side of his neck were starting to throb, and he had turned a deep shade of puce. “But Vernon, we can’t throw him out….what would that look like to the neighbors? We would be considered the worst parents on Privet Drive, and think of how that would effect little Dudleywudley. I don’t want to keep my sister’s bratty child either, Vernon, but we must think of Dudley.” “I WILL NOT HAVE ONE OF THEIR LOT IN MY HOUSE, PETUNIA! YOU’VE KEPT THIS FROM ME FOR TEN YEARS, AND I AM NOT PUTTING UP WITH THIS RUBBISH NOW! WE’LL BEAT IT OUT OF HIM! IF HE SHOWS THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF USING MAGIC, WE’LL BEAT HIM FOR IT UNTIL HE LEARNS TO BEHAVE!” He ripped clumps from his mustache, leaving ragged stubble above his now visible upper lip. “Yes, I think you’re right. We mustn’t let him think about magic at all. Maybe we can force it out of him if we never let him think about it! But…where will we keep him, Vernon? We can’t give him Dudley’s spare room. Where would he keep his toys and baby books?” “We’ll keep him in that cupboard under the stairs. We don’t kepp anything in there anyway. Just stick him in there and bring him some food a few times a day. If we’re lucky, the neighbors will never notice he’s here. He’s about the same age as Dudley, they should be eating the same kinds of food.” “Yes. I suppose that will work. Maybe he will never think about magic. Maybe Harry Potter will be just as normal as you and I.”
~~~~ $ ~~~~
The years passed, and Harry grew as fast as anyone could have hoped. Though he was undoubtedly malnourished, thanks to his generous aunt and uncle, he was as normal as any young boy could be. Though he enjoyed his schooling and was eager to learn, the walls of Stonewall Primary were like prison bars to him, mainly because he shared classes with his cousin Dudley Dursley, who had also grown by this point, to roughly the weight of a baby elephant. Though Harry had never shown any interest in magic, that began to change one crisp fall afternoon when his uncle picked he and Dudley up after school one afternoon. “Get in you, and mind you don’t sit on Dudley’s presents! Your mum counted them this year, Dudley. Twenty-three!” “Twenty-three! That’s three less than last year! I’m 7 now, dad. I deserve seven more presents!” Dudley, blond curls flashing in the light coming in through the car windows, was clearly on the verge of a major tantrum. “And…and so right you are, son.” Vernon said, with the air of someone who wanted to avoid confrontation. “Seven more it is! I’ll run by the store tomorrow and pick them out!” “Uncle Vernon!” said Harry, clearly excited by something. “Guess what we read in school today! We read about King Arthur!” “Shut up boy! Can’t you see that your cousin and I are talking!” “But it was amazing! There was this boy named Arthur, and he met this wizard named Merlin, and….” Vernon slammed on the brakes, tires squealing to a halt. His face turned around in his seat, face as red as blood, a vein in his forehead throbbing away, his nose an inch from Harry’s. “There’s no such thing as wizards, boy! And you’d damn well better remember that!” “Ye...yes Uncle Vernon.” Harry said, eyes down towards the floor. “I want you in your cupboard the instant we get home! You’ll have no supper tonight, so that you can think about this! “Yes Uncle Vernon” he said, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “Dad, guess what I did today!” Dudley cried out. “I punched Mark Evans in the nose today because he said I looked like a pig that had been taught to walk on its hind legs! He couldn’t stop crying!” “That’s my boy Dudley! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” For the rest of the drive, Harry did not say a word. He stared out the window, thinking about the story. It had been so wonderful! He imagined that he himself was Merlin, fighting dragons, pulling a sword from a stone, and kissing fair maidens. He was so caught up in his daydream that he didn’t realize they were home until his uncle opened the door and pulled him out by his collar. “If I ever hear you say another word about magic, boy, you won’t have meals for a week! It doesn’t exist!” “OK, I know, I know! Magic doesn’t exist!” “Right you are, and don’t forget it!” Vernon threw him into the cupboard and slammed the door. “Petunia! Get in here! That boy was talking about magic today!”
~~~~ $ ~~~~
Vernon Dursley was sitting in his cushy chair in his office at Grunting Drills, Inc, quietly sipping coffee, when the phone at his desk rang. He turned from the window, where he had been staring dreamingly at the bakery across the street, trying to decide which bun to buy for lunch, and picked up the phone. “Hello, Gruntings Drills. Vernon Dursley speaking.” “Mr. Dursley, this is Headmistress Lois Pickett. I’m afraid we have a situation on our hands.” “I’m telling you Headmistress, Dudley is a rowdy boy, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly!” “No, it…it’s not Dudley this time, for once. Actually it’s the Potter boy. He seems to have somehow gotten to the roof, and some of the children swear they saw him fly.” Mr. Dursley spat his coffee clear across the room, and quickly mopped the spreading brown stain from the carpet. “I’ll be over.” he said, the veins in his neck throbbing. He asked his secretary to hold all calls, and walked to his car in the employee parking lot as quickly as possible. He drove to Stonewall Primary, his mind racing to think of a punishment severe enough to cover this offense. Hanging Harry by his ankles from the ceiling seemed sufficient, but where would he find the necessary manacles… He walked in the front door of the school, greeted by the receptionist who asked politely what Dudley had done this time, to which he only offered a rude hand gesture. Finding the headmistress was not hard. There was a large group of children grouped around one building of the recreational facilities, and he could see in the distance a figure on the roof. Approaching the building, Mr. Dursley heard an all-too-familiar voice. “NO! I’m not coming down! Dudley and his cronies were threatening to punch my lights out! I’m tired of being their punching bag!” “Mr. Potter, come down this INSTANT!” Again, another familiar voice, that of the headmistress. She whirled around at that moment, and met face to face with Vernon Dursley. “Ah, Mr. Dursley. How…uh…nice…to see you again.” “What did that dratted boy do now?” “Well, it seems Mr. Potter was being chased by your son and his friends, and to escape from them, he decided to climb on the roof. Now, how he was able to climb up there is anyone’s guess, but some of the children swear on their lives they saw him fly. We can’t seem to get him to come down.” “Well, just leave him up there.” “Excuse me?” “Leave him. Eventually he will have to come down. He’ll get hungry. And then he’ll wish he had never been born.” The look of pure hatred in his eyes was enough to silence any objections the headmistress had. “Alright boys and girls. Move along. There’s nothing to see here.”
~~~~ $ ~~~~
Mrs. Petunia Dursley was standing in her pristine kitchen, comb and razor in hand, attempting to fix the hair of her nephew for her husband’s meeting with the head of Grunting Drills. She had been cooking for this dinner meeting for the last six hours, and everything had to be perfect, including his hair. “Doesn’t it ever lie flat?” “No.” said Harry, exasperation in his voice. “Well, there has to be something we can do! You’re not sitting in here with Mr. Mason without some decent hair! Let’s try this.” She pressed a button and the electric razor began to whir away in her left hand. Harry could see the black locks fall from his head as his aunt made swipe after swipe over his scalp. “There! It looks perfect! Well, not Dudley perfect, but it will do.” Harry stood up, brushing the hair from his front, and stared at his reflection in the toaster. “I look like I have mange!” “Which is a risk I’m willing to take! I don’t want to hear another word! Go put on your nice clothes. And do try to tuck in the sleeves this time! Dudley’s arms were quite a bit longer than your’s are.” “Yes Aunt Petunia.” Harry said, rolling his eyes as he walked to his cupboard under the stairs. “God, please don’t let me be seen like this!” he thought, squeezing his eyes so hard he began to see stars. He reluctantly put on his dinner jacket and walked out just as the doorbell rang. “Mr. Mason! How nice to see you! Mrs. Mason! You look beautiful! May I take your shawl?” he heard Dudley croon from the foyer. “Right this way, Mr. Mason! Welcome to our home!” Mrs. Dursley cried joyfully from the kitchen. “Ah, Mr. Mason! Welcome, sir, welcome! Ah, what a fine grip you have!” said Mr. Dursley, shaking his hand. “Thank you, Dursleys. You have a beautiful home, Petunia. Everything looks super- oh my goodness! Who is that?!” Mr. Mason cried, staring in shock at Harry. Vernon Dursley turned around and let out a small cry of his own at the sight of his nephew, whose hair looked as though he had narrowly won a fight with the neighbor’s lawnmower. “Oh! This…this is my nephew, Harry. He’s…he’s staying with us now. His parents died in a car crash years ago.” “Well, that’s very decent of you, Vernon. Very considerate of others. I like that in an employee.” “Well, I do try sir!” Vernon said, shooting a look of pure loathing at Harry. “Now, how about some appetizers?” “Wonderful! I’ve been looking forward to this Petunia! Your food is the talk of the town!” “Oh Mr. Mason!” said Petunia, whose smug smile belied her fake blush. They sat down at the Dursley’s large dinner table, while Mrs. Dursley ladled out her prize-winning stew. “Oh, Mr. Mason, I have this joke you must hear! So a priest, an attorney, and a fisherman walk into a bar… Harry was staring into his bowl, spinning his spoon around the potatoes. “I hate this hair!” he thought. “Why did Aunt Petunia do this to me?” “And so the fisherman says to the attorney- AGGHHH!” Mr. Dursley was so startled, he fell back in his chair, pulling the tablecloth and all the food with him. The pot of scalding stew fell on top of his head, spilling stew all over his new suit. “Daddy! My food!” cried Dudley. “Vernon! What’s wrong? Why did you- AGGHHH!” Petunia had turned around and was now staring at what had caused her husband to mess his pants. Everyone at the table turned to stare at Harry, whose hair was now just as long, unkempt, and irregular as it had been before Mrs. Dursley had cut it. “I’m terribly sorry Mr. Mason! I swear it won’t happen again!” Vernon cried as Mr. Mason walked down their drive to his car half an hour later, followed closely by his wife. “Thank you, Vernon, for a…strange evening.” “Don’t go! We haven’t even gotten to the pudding!” “It’s quite alright Vernon. I’ll…er…I’ll call you.” Vernon Dursley slowly closed the door and turned to stare at his family. His hair was matted by stew, his suit was soaked, and he was in the process of ripping the hair from his mustache and head. “YOU! BOY! COME HERE! NOW!” he bellowed at Harry. Harry walked over to his uncle slowly, being careful to stay just out of his reach. But he was too late. His uncle lunged, grabbed him by the collar, and pinned him against the wall. He brought his face in so close to Harry’s that Harry could count the individual hairs left in his uncle’s mustache. “You’ve ruined my life, boy. You’re never having meals again! Do you hear me? You’re not going to school, you’re not eating, and you’re not to speak to anyone. I’m locking you in that damned cupboard forever! You don’t exist! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” “Yes Uncle Vernon. I don’t exist.”
Deathly Hallows Theories: Part 8
Now, the first thing you might notice is that Voldemort is on the cover for the first time. You will also notice that neither he or Harry are carrying a wand. Does this mean that Harry has mastered the art of nonverbal spells as Snape suggested? Possibly. Does it mean that Harry and Voldy, who realized in book 4 that their brother wands cannot attack one another, have resorted to another form of attack? Likely. Next, you will notice the obvious fact that both of them are staring at the sky. Harry raises his hand as if summoning something. Now, the first thing that I noticed is that he raises his right hand, but he uses his left hand as his wand hand. Don't believe me? Look at the Half Blood Prince cover. I have heard some say that he could be calling Fawkes, but I imagine myself that Fawkes would land much like a hawk does, and Harry would need to stick out his forearm. Lastly for Harry, you will notice a....something around his neck. Mary Grandpre obviously made this blurry on purpose. I don't think it is the Slytherin Locket, though it could be. The shape doesn't seem right. I personally think it is some sort of bag, just by looking at the way it is hanging around his neck. I have also heard from a reliable source that it could be the last Time Turner, who, the source says, was in the possession of Professor McGonagall. I have yet to confirm this fact, however. Now onto Voldemort. You will notice that his eyes are bugging out slightly, looking at Harry's outstretched hand. He is also stretching out his own hand in the same direction, as if to grab something....or could it be to help? You will notice that Harry is visibly standing in front of Voldemort, with his back turned. Voldemort made a fuss in Book 4 about the honor of the duel and facing your opponent, so why would he allow Harry to turn his back to him....unless Harry is not his opponent. Harry seems to be standing in front of Voldemort, almost protecting him, in my opinion. Yes, he seems to be protecting Voldemort. He is in front of him, holding up his hand as if conjuring something from thin air....*cough* accio firebolt *cough*. and Voldemort appears to be afraid of whatever it is he is looking at. Last, you will notice the background. I immediately thought "desert" when I saw it, but it could just as easily be sunset. You will notice the building behind them, which appears to be more oval than circular, leading me to believe that it is a quidditch pitch, which might explain the presence of the blurry, possibly hooded figures in the background. The curtains at the edges of the fold do a nice job of closing out the story, as the curtains on the Sorcerer's Stone opened it. The rubble of stone and wood...I cannot explain. Possibly someone's doing to create a stage? Who knows...
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