Yates finally explains why he didn't trust Rowling's ending

It was quite stunning, really. 

 I have wondered for several years what could possibly have possessed screenwriter Steve Kloves and director David Yates when they decided to change J.K. Rowling's practically perfect ending to The Deathly Hallows.

David Yates: Praying for inspiration

Now, after watching the recent Harry Potter 20^th Anniversary: Return to Hogwarts special, I finally have my answer.

And it only makes me more incensed.

 

As you will recall, Rowling ends the Battle of Hogwarts in epic seventh novel with Harry and Voldemort, circling, circling, while the crowds of Hogwarts defenders and Deatheaters look on, mesmerised.

 

Molly Weasley had finally defeated Bellatrix Lestrange, the wizarding world has risen up to vanquish the Dark Forces and all that remains is for Harry to fulfill his destiny and bring down the Dark Lord once and for all.

It's a wonderfully tense and emotional scene. Harry distracts Voldemort from casting the final curse by telling him of Dumbledore's plans, both those that worked perfectly and those that didn't quite work out the way the Headmaster had intended. And then, as the sun breaks over the horizon, the two wizards cast their best spells and Voldemort, his own killing curse rebounding on him and the Elder Wand declaring its allegiance to Harry, its rightful owner, falls down dead.

Human. Finally and fully human.

All of the themes Rowling had been weaving so carefully through the books come to a point in this final scene, this final moment.

Perfect.

But not good enough for Kloves and Yates. Or, as it turns out, for Yates alone.

In the recent retrospective special, the director takes full credit (or blame, to be honest) for the ultimate filmic insult to Rowling's amazing work.

David Yates says this of the final battle between Harry and Voldemort:

Yates, fumbling the ending

When looking at the book, the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry takes place in the Great Hall with a huge audience watching. And I really wanted something earthier and more intense and more visceral than that. Because these two adversaries were almost joined spiritually if you like in this strange Horcruxy way. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if Dan just grabbed Raif and pulled him off this tower?

 

As they apparate, they are merged together. That deep connection that we had sort of threaded through the stories and the films you’d visualise in that moment before they tumbled into the courtyard.

 

As well as the physical challenge of making the films, there was that small pressure of thinking: you’re the one who is going to finish this. It has to go out on a high. It has to be meaningful. It has to resonate. It has to deliver.

The problem, Mr. Yates, is that the final battle as written by J.K. Rowling was meaningful, it resonates, it delivers. You should have trusted her. You should have recognised the poet and simply followed the plan she so masterfully set out for you.

In making the ridiculous changes you made, you took the soul out of the ending. You made that final confrontation mano a mano, a macho combat between two individuals rather than the final, almost anti-climactic moment where the common good, the collective society won out and the great monster that had enthralled and terrorised the world for so long was revealed as nothing more than a human being, around much had been built.

Harry didn't defeat Voldemort by himself -- he, Hermione and Ron hunted down the Horcruxes and one by one destroyed them, bringing Voldemort step by step closer to his end; Neville played a role, killing the snake, as did Hagrid, and McGonagall, and Kingsley, the House Elves, the Centaurs, the Weasleys, the families of the Hogwartians, the people of Hogsmeade and so many others.

Mr. Yates, you failed to understand what Rowling had built, so poetically, so artfully, over the course of the seven novels and, in making the final battle between Voldemort and Harry an epic battle, filled with flashes and explosions, fought in front of no one, you proved yourself an exceptional technician but no artist.

 

And you did a disservice to the stories were you entrusted to bring to the screen.

Is Snape good or evil? Is he even really one character?

Is Snape good? Or is Snape evil?


According to a report on the CNN website, that argument has again erupted, this time in the Twittersphere and this time focusing on why Harry and Ginny would choose to name their son "Albus Severus", honouring both Harry's biggest mentor and guide in the wizarding world, a man who was almost without fail kind and fair with Harry, and the man who was, for most of the seven-book series, sadistically abusive of Harry and his friends.


Even our favourite author, J.K. Rowling, entered the heated fray.

After what sounds to have been a long and surprisingly vitriolic debate, Rowling tweeted: "There's a whole essay in why Harry gave his son Snape's name, but the decision goes to the heart of who Harry was, post-war."

And further: "In honouring Snape, Harry hoped in his heart that he too would be forgiven. The deaths at the Battle of Hogwarts would haunt Harry forever."

And finally: "Snape is all grey. You can't make him a saint: he was vindictive & bullying. You can't make him a devil: he died to save the wizarding world."

Now, you can go back through my earlier posts on this blog and find snippets here and there that might help you understand my own interpretation, my "take" on this debate and on Rowling's approach to it (and I would encourage you to do so -- I've had a lot of fun writing all these posts and I hope you will be willing to invest some time in reading them) but allow me to summarise my thoughts on the subject here.

First, I agree in some ways with Rowling: Snape is an amalgam of good and evil. Shaped by his early personal experiences, he is a proud, angry, vindictive man. We know that his father was abusive and his parents fought all through his childhood. We know that he was bullied by James and Sirius and their gang and we know that, in the midst of all that, he fell very deeply and irrevocably in love with Lily Evans, one of the few major characters in the books who is presented as being without fault.

But I also think it is important that, while Snape turns out to be fighting on the side of good, he was also a brutal, nasty, horrible person in situations where such egregious behavior was not at all necessary. Nothing required him to bully Neville throughout his years at Hogwarts; nothing required Snape to pick on Ron and Hermione either.

Even if we buy the argument that Snape's terrible relationship with James Potter in some way explained and excused his behaviour toward Harry, I doubt very much it can possibly excuse just how awful he was to our boy hero. Not even the argument that Snape needed to convince and re-convince Voldemort that he was not an agent for Dumbledore could explain away just how unnecessarily cruel Snape was to Harry and his friends.

Further, even if we accept that Snape is a good guy, he did help bring about the deaths of two other of the good guys: Emmeline Vance and Sirius Black.

How does that fact impact the argument with regard to Snape? As I have written before, at its heart, this is a moral question. Is it morally acceptable to sacrifice at least two lives in hopes of avoiding the deaths of many many more? And, if we can forgive Snape the deaths of Vance and Black simply because Snape turns out to be willing to sacrifice himself to help defeat Voldemort, can we forgive him his earlier behaviour toward these children, when he was in the role of teacher, for the same reason?

I think our analysis of Snape has to take into account the evolving complexity of the books, the characters and their situations, from The Philosopher's Stone (which is a children's book) to The Deathly Hallows (which is a fully adult novel).

In the early books, Snape was basically a cardboard figure who represented evil. He was only and utterly Harry's nemesis. Whether or not Rowling had fully fleshed out, when she wrote the first three books, the complex and contradictory role Snape would eventually play in the later novels, Snape is presented early on as a flat, mysterious, horrible character.

More importantly, he was the key to one of the earliest examples of one of Rowling's favourite narrative strategies: misdirection. In The Philosopher's Stone, for example, Snape had to be presented as irredeemably evil in order to draw the reader's attention away from Quirrell, one of the two true villains of that story.

I would argue that, as the novels progressed and increased in depth and complexity, Rowling added more depth and complexity to her characters. She added shades of grey, to use that now horrible expression, to what had been black and white, flat, stock characters.


You see this most specifically with regard to Snape and Dumbledore, though Dumbledore's shades are mostly added only after his death in The Half-Blood Prince.


If I had to state things bluntly, I would say that the Snape of the first four books (especially books one and two) is not the same character as the Snape of the last three (especially the final one). To hold the actions of the early Snape against the later Snape is almost unfair.


In the end, this is not a question of Snape's personality or moral goodness; this is a question of Rowling's narrative strategy.

Something Wiki this way comes...

Wow, the people who update the Harry Potter Wiki site are fast, aren't they? No sooner does J.K. publish the Rita Skeeter article about the Quidditch World Cup and someone has already updated the Wiki entry for Hannah Abbott to include the details related to "Hannah" included in the Skeeter piece.

But are they right to do so? The citation for the information added to the Hannah Abbott Wiki entry is the Skeeter piece, according to the site, but I have to figure there is more than one Hannah in the magical community. And Skeeter omits any reference to the birth name of "Hannah" in her article.

So how can they be so sure that Neville Longbottom, in fact, married Hannah Abbott, rather than some other Hannah (Smith, Jones, Leduc, Jeudesor)?

And why do the entry editors assume that whatever Hannah Neville married would take his last name in place of her own? They refer to her as "Hannah Longbottom (nee Abbott)" in the entry. Why make that assumption?

And why do they describe her as the "landlady of the Leaky Cauldron" in the Wiki entry? The Skeeter article merely says that Neville and Hannah "lived above the Leaky Cauldron"; it makes no mention of her having been the landlady (and, therefore, owner) of the pub.

Don't get me wrong. I think the Harry Potter Wiki is an amazing resource and I respect the work that went into creating (and still goes into maintaining and updating) it.

But this update of Hannah Abbott's entry causes me some concern about the accuracy of all of the other entries as well.

I shall have to take the information included on the Wiki with a grain of salt from now on, won't I?

On the other hand, when I read in the Skeeter article that Neville had married a woman named Hannah, I too immediately thought of Ms. Abbott. But the Skeeter article certainly falls far short of confirming that the Neville's partner is indeed Hannah Abbott.

"Diagon Alley' is a breathtaking introduction to so many important things

Having taken a brief break to read some Jane Austen (which I thoroughly enjoyed, by the way), I am back to Harry Potter again and reading Book 1, The Philosopher's Stone, for the umteenth time.

I love coming back to this book after some time away from the whole Harry Potter world. It's so fresh and lively and exciting. I even find myself getting a slight taste of how it felt to read it for the very first time, when everything was completely new, but in some ways re-reading is an even more satisfying experience.

Chapter Five, 'Diagon Alley', is a particular gem in this book, especially when the reader knows what's to come in the entire series of novels. That's not to say that this first glimpse of the magical world wasn't enthralling on first reading! I felt just like Harry way back then: I wished I had eight extra eyes to take it all in.

Now that I know the rest of the books so well, however, I can appreciate how important this first visit to the Leaky Cauldron and the world beyond it is to the development not just of this first novel but of the entire Harry Potter saga.

Any number of characters who would play ongoing and even important roles are introduced in this chapter: Tom, the barman, Dedalus Diggle, Ollivander, Madam Malkin and, of course, Draco Malfoy all make their first appearances as Harry discovers his own magical world and his importance to its people.

Interestingly, we don't learn Draco's name until later, just as we have to wait to find out what Harry plans to call his new snowy owl, a birthday gift from Hagrid.

J.K. also uses this chapter to lay down several important (and perhaps not so important) rules for the magical world, rules which would have particular resonance in later books and particularly in Book Seven, The Deathly Hallows:

• from Hagrid, Harry learns that toads are no longer considered to be cool pets by the students at Hogwarts, which later gives us a very quick insight into the character and circumstances of Neville Longbottom, owner of the infamous toad Trevor;
• from our visit to Gringott's bank, we learn how dangerous it would be to attempt to break in, something Hagrid reinforces on several occasions in the chapter; isn't it ironic that, as the saga comes to a close, Harry and his friends actually do try to break into Gringott's and, with a little help from a freedom-seeking dragon, actually survive to tell the tale; and
• from Ollivander, we learn four important lessons which will play key roles in later novels: first, that the wand chooses the wizard; second, that a borrowed wand will never perform so well as a wizard's own wand; third, that the holly wand that chooses Harry has, as its core, a tail feather from the same Phoenix that provided the tail feather inside Voldemort's wand; and fourth, that the Phoenix in question (which turns out to be Fawkes, Dumbledore's own bird) gave up only those two tail feathers.

And, as I've mentioned before on this blog, we get a wonderfully written opportunity to understand a little bit more about the characters of Harry Potter and the pale, pointed face boy he encounters in Madam Malkin's robe shop. The unnamed Draco introduces us to the division within the wizarding community over the issue of pure blood versus "Mudblood", while displaying a conceited, haughty character that immediately turns Harry off.

In just 17 short pages, 'Diagon Alley' sets the stage for what is to come, both in the novel itself and across the entire series. It's no wonder we readers almost fail to notice that Rowling has also introduced us, and Harry, to the villain of that first book, Professor Quirrell, who comes across merely as another Harry Potter fan in the Leaky Cauldron.

I found this chapter so impressive that I had to stop and read it again. Great writing. Fabulous introduction to so many important things!

Christmas at St. Mungo's: A view into Neville's life

I often wonder if J.K. has favourite scenes in the books. You know, sections that she feels particularly proud of, that she was surprised by when she re-read a book years later, that she felt really worked.

Of course, that raises a second question: does J.K. even go back and re-read her own novels at all? You and I read and re-read them constantly but does she?

As you all know, I have any number of favourite scenes in Harry Potter, both in the books and in the films. And, every time I read a novel again, I find a new passage to appreciate.

I am just finishing a re-read of The Order of the Phoenix, a book that I find very difficult. Harry just endures so much in this novel that I find it hard to read.

But I have to marvel at how beautifully Rowling portrays the scene at Christmas in the Closed Ward of St. Mungo's, the one where Harry, Hermione and Ron encounter Neville and his grandmother and then, heart-rendingly, Neville's mother.

There is so much going on in this scene:

- Harry, who has known about Neville's parents for some time, trying to make the encounter as harmless as possible for Neville;
- Ron showing his genuine pleasure at seeing Neville, not understanding at first why Neville finds the meeting quite upsetting;
- Hermione catching on to Neville's discomfort very quickly but also having to deal with her own surprise and anxiety that Neville's grandmother knows all about her;
- Neville's Gran, pleased to meet his friends, attempting to remain strong in the face of the terrible damage done to her son and daughter-in-law, proud of who they were and what they fought for, and attempting to address Neville's mixed emotions about his parents and their current state;
- and finally Neville, himself, embarassed, anxious, feeling inadequate, yet still loyal and committed to his parents and wishing to prove himself worthy of being their son.

The entire scene lasts all of two pages in the book and yet Rowling succeeds in communicating so much about each character in that brief period.

All of which is beautifully brought to a conclusion with Gran telling Neville to throw away the candy wrapper his mother has given him and Neville, quietly and without fanfare, slipping the gift instead into his pocket, a treasured memento from his mom.

I think J.K. has reason to be really proud of this short passage with Neville and his grandmother. I wonder if she is able to read her books and recognise these little gems as well.

I gave Rowling too little credit (and the filmmakers too much)

Well that solves one mystery. When the filmmakers were trying to figure out a simpler way to give Harry information about Gillyweed for the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, where did they get such a good idea from?

From J.K. herself.

In an earlier post, I had attempted to give the movie guys some credit for coming up with an inventive way for providing Harry this life-saving information: by having Neville learn about Gillyweed from a book given to him by Crouch/Moody and then tell Harry about it.

I thought: that's much better than Rowling's answer, which was to have Dobby provide the information at the last minute. Rowling's approach made Crouch/Moody's gift of the book on herbology to Neville appear to be gratuitous kindness, I argued.

I should have had more faith in J.K. And I should have remembered Crouch/Moody's rant to Harry at the end of the book better.

It turns out that Rowling makes it clear, during that rant, that Crouch/Moody did give Neville the book precisely so that he would tell Harry about Gillyweed. Except his plan was foiled because Harry was too proud to ask his friends, outside of Hermione and Ron, for help.

So, in the novel, Crouch/Moody had to come up with another idea.

The filmmakers shortened the whole process by having Harry finally ask Neville how he could survive for an hour under water. Neville then provides the information and Crouch/Moody's plan was effected.

So this is my mea culpa. I gave the filmmakers too much credit and Rowling too little. I won't make that mistake again.

Crouch's "kindness" to Neville makes more sense in the film

Anyone who reads this blog will know that I'm not always a big fan of the films. I tend to use this space to vent my frustrations at the liberties the movie-makers have taken with J.K. Rowling's treasured novels.

As a result, I feel that it is important for me to make a big deal of it whenever I find something in the films that I really like, especially when I think the movie version is better than the novel in some small way. It happens so rarely, after all, I might as well make a point of writing about it.

For example, I am enjoying reading The Goblet of Fire right now and, with a quiet Sunday facing me, I broke down and decided to watch the movie as well. I'm not big on the idea that the filmmakers decided to make Durmstrang and Beauxbatons single-sex schools (Durmstrang with boys only and Beauxbatons with girls), nor with the loss of the whole S.P.E.W subplot, the roles of Dobby and Winky, etc.

I recognise that they had to cut a lot out of the 600-page novel in order to get the story told in a 140-minute movie. I'm just not happy with some of the changes they made.

What I did like, however, was the decision they made to have Neville give Harry the tip about Gillyweed for the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. I think it really works.

You will recall that, in the book, it is Dobby who finally gives Harry the Gillyweed, just ten minutes before the task begins. That's fine and works well. But it fails to take advantage of the fact that Crouch (as Moody) had, in fact, given Neville a text on Herbology earlier in the novel.

The filmmakers take the Dobby connection out entirely in order to save time but, in doing so, they take full advantage of the earlier kindness Crouch showed to Neville. In the novel, this kindness is actually kind of strange: why would a character so completely bent on helping the Dark Lord capture Harry and return to full life take the time to be kind to a kid at the school?

The movie version works better. We find out that Crouch's "kindness" was simply another step in his cunning plan to help Harry win the tournament without anyone realising he is doing so.

In this case, at least, the filmmakers actually improved on the original.

Neville and Luna: Do we buy this movie love match?

Neville and Luna, together at last.

Do we buy it?

There's no suggestion that I can find in any of the novels that Neville and Luna are interested in each other. But in the eighth film, Neville tells the hero trio that he needs to find Luna because he's "mad about her" and wants her to know that before they all die in the battle with evil.

It seems kind of out of the blue to me. And I don't think it suits Neville's character at all.

Neville has always been a young man who has struggled to fit in, struggled to find confidence in himself, struggled to prove himself to his grandmother, to his classmates, to the world.

He's desperate to show that he is worthy of his parents, who were valued members of the Order of the Phoenix before they were tortured into madness by Bellatrix Lestrange.

So why would a boy who has for so long battled to be accepted as one of the team suddenly fall in love with a young woman who is so clearly different?

Neville's sudden expression of his love for Luna doesn't work for me in the film. I wonder why the filmmakers felt they needed to add it.

When Harry Potter was new...

I think I've mentioned my colleague at work before, the one who has seen all of the Harry Potter movies (several times) but had not, at the time of the release of The Deathly Hallows, Part 2, read any of the books.

Well, she tells me now that she's finally taken the plunge into J.K.'s original world, working through the first three novels over the course of a two-week holiday. She says, however, that she finds herself sometimes wishing that she had read the books first, since the movies have robbed the literary plots of much of their suspense. She knows the major events that are coming, even if the novels give so much more depth and character development.

Meanwhile, I envy her that absolute delight of reading the novels for the first time. I don't have much of a recollection of my first readings of novels one through six. All I know is that I roared through each one at breakneck speed the first time, then had to go back to read them over again at a slower pace, with more time to savour the quality of the writing and the intricacies of the story.

I do, however, have a very vivid recollection of the excitement that built up as I, and so many of my friends and colleagues, waited with anxious anticipation for the seventh novel to be released. We would talk about the first six books endlessly and have a seemingly non-stop conversation about what we thought the final novel would bring.

Was Snape truly evil or was Dumbledore right to trust him after all? Would Harry die? What would Draco do in the end? And what about Neville: was it possible that he really was the true Chosen One? Would Hermione and Ron finally get together or would Hermione come to her senses in time?

And when the book finally hit the bookstores, I bought it on the first day and literally disappeared into the world of Rowling for the next forty-eight hours. I galloped through it the first time, slowing only to weep as Harry bravely walked into the Forbidden Forest to face his death. Then I went back and read the last hundred pages or so more slowly, to make sure that I understood, that I recognised the power and beauty of Rowling's writing.

And then I read the novel once more from start to finish. Only then did I feel I could talk about it.

I know my colleague will never be able to feel that level of anticipation, that depth of excitement in the reading. She knows the plots. She has a good idea of the major events.

But I hope she can find a way to immerse herself in the details, find amazement in the ways in which J.K.'s novels are so much better than the films. Enjoy the intense excitement of discovering for the first time just how great these books really are.

And, if she can, I'll envy her every step of the way. My experience of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (both in the anticipation of its release and the intensity of the first couple of readings) was such a rush that I hope I'll find another book someday that will give me something even close to that feeling.

Evanna is the question mark for me

I've been wondering lately if any of the young actors from the Harry Potter films will be able to continue with successful acting careers.

I know that Daniel Radcliffe has made some much-talked-about appearances on the stage and Tom Felton is currently playing a supporting role in the film Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which is getting a lot of positive reviews. Will they be able to make it last? Once the Harry Potter luster has worn off, will they and their young colleagues still be getting good parts in big films, plays or television shows?

Much to my chagrin, the actor I think has the best shot at making a lasting career out of acting, Emma Watson, seems to be the least interested in doing so. I read somewhere that she's returning to University to complete her degree with no immediate plans to accept new roles. It's too bad. I thought Watson was by far the best of the younger set of actors in the films and would have been interested to see her continue to grow as an actor.

I think Felton has a future, especially if he's willing to continue to play villains. I'm not so sure about Radcliffe: as you already know, I think he was the weak acting link in the Potter films so, unless he gets better quickly, I can't see him doing much.

And what of Rupert Grint, Evanna Lynch, Matthew Lewis and Bonnie Wright, who played Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom and Gina Weasley respectively?

I like Grint and I think the entertainment business will always have room for the big, lunky, lovable guy with the easy smile. Lewis seems to have attracted a big female fan following, which should help him to land roles, at least for a while.

I can see Wright doing well too. She has a classic English beauty in both her physical appearance and her demeanour. I can see her keeping very active in the busy British film industry.

Evanna Lynch is the big question mark for me. I'm not sure what will happen with her. I think she's fantastic in the Potter films but I'm not sure if the Luna character is really that great a representation of Lynch the actor as she is today. Casting directors will want to place her in roles that are similar to Luna but I'm don't think Lynch will be able to pull of mystically bewildered innocence any more.

Seamus is the one for Luna, not Neville

The son of a friend of mine attended the first showing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, dressed in a bulky sweater with a big "R" attached to the front. With his flaming red hair and ready grin, he made a passable Ron Weasley at Christmas time.

The guy is 17 and a huge Harry Potter fan. And, apparently, he's really unhappy with the movie. My friend says he's constantly pointing out tiny details of the film and how they differ from the book.

Sounds like me, doesn't it?

Speaking of stupid little changes, can someone explain to me why the filmmakers had to add that ridiculous, useless moment in the film when Neville declares his love for Luna? I have a feeling Matthew Lewis felt like an idiot delivering such a stupid, out-of-character line and I know I felt like an idiot listening to it.

I always thought, if Luna were to end up with any of the Hogwarts kids, it would be Seamus. I'm not sure why (and I haven't looked back into the books for any hints about it) but I have just always felt that Seamus was the one for Luna.

The film's Voldemort becomes a sad and silly caricature

What did they do to Voldemort?

I mean, honestly, what were Stephen Kloves and David Yates thinking when they decided to rewrite Voldemort for the final film (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, in case you forgot)?

First, they decide that the destruction of each Horcrux must affect him, either physically or psychologically. Not only is this contrary to J.K. Rowling's original novels, it's also contrary to their own earlier movies.

When Dumbledore destroyed the ring between films five and six, we see no evidence it had any impact on the Dark Lord. When Ron smashes the locket in Part 1, Voldemort doesn't howl in pain (either physical or psychic).

So it's not even internally consistent in the films that the destruction of Hufflepuff's Cup and Ravenclaw's Diadem would somehow damage Voldemort. And yet, there he is, damaged. Weakened, enraged.

This leads to the second, and even more significant, problem I have with the rewriting of Voldemort in Part 2. Instead of being a controlled, imposing, absolutely and resolutely sane villain as he is in the novels, Voldemort of the films degenerates into a giggling psycho.

Remember Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs? We feared him because he appeared so sane, so in control, so intelligent and charming and well-spoken, and yet he was capable of such monstrous evil.

That's the Voldemort J.K. created in her novels.

In Part 2, however, he loses that mystique. In the scene where he leads his army to the front doors of Hogwarts to show the school's defenders the apparently dead Harry, Voldemort prances and giggles like the worst version of Batman's enemy, the Joker. He's no longer scary but silly.

Worse, Voldemort's silliness fundamentally changes his encounter with Neville Longbottom. When Neville steps forward in the novel, Voldemort recognises in him all the characterstics he, the Dark Lord, admires: courage, loyalty, purity of blood. Voldemort speaks to Neville with a tone of respect and says he will make a fine Death Eater.

This makes Neville's continued resistance, his resolute commitment to Harry and the cause, even more significant. Neville has spent his life trying to prove himself, to himself, to his grandmother, to the wizarding world. Harry Potter's cause seems to be lost and here is the apparent new ruler of the magical world, extending an invitation to him to join the new regime, to take a respected place in that world. And Neville refuses. His loyalty, his commitment to all things good, make him reject the very acceptance and recognition that he has long hoped for, even if that rejection will likely cost him his life.

In the film version, Voldemort sneers at Neville, treats him with disdain, makes fun of him. This new silly, giggling villain is so lost he can no longer even recognise in others the qualities he has long claimed to admire and respect.

The film's depiction of this scene is, unfortunately, an insult not just to Neville but to Voldemort himself. It's too bad. Kloves and Yates don't seem to have the artistic sensitivity to recognise the elegant subtlety and depth of J.K. Rowling's original novels and the final film in this epic series suffers greatly as a result.

My six favourite creatures with names

Six days left. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, is less than a week away. I offer my six favourite creatures with names from J.K. Rowling's books in recognition of the six remaining days of waiting:

6. Buckbeak/Witherwings, the Hippogriff;
5. Fluffy, the three-headed dog;
4. Errol, the Weasley's battered old owl;
3. Trevor, Neville's oft-escaping toad;
2. Hedwig, Harry's loyal snowy owl; and, finally,
1. Fawkes, the Phoenix, who saves Harry in book two and laments Albus Dumbledore at the end of book six.

There were many others who could have made the list: Crookshanks, Pig, Padfoot, Scabbers (well, not really, since he turned out to be the evil Peter Pettigrew), Hermes, Aragog, Arnold (the pygmy puff) and Norbert/Norberta. I'm sure there are others but I just can't think of them right now.

Nine days and nine minor characters I liked

With nine days to go before the opening of The Deathly Hallows, Part 2, I thought I'd think about some of my favourite minor characters from the novels, characters I would like to have seen given bigger parts in the books:

1. Cho Chang, Harry's love interest in The Order of the Phoenix. I thought she worked well with Harry and I thought her confused feelings after Cedric Diggory was murdered were really interesting;
2. Cedric Diggory, of course, because it was nice to see another truly good, heroic character who wasn't part of Harry's circle;
3. Nymphadora Tonks, who was a cool combination of fun, clumsy and heroic. She was an Auror, after all, and Mad-Eye's protege, so she must have been pretty good;
4. Neville's Grandmother, because the brief glimpses we have of her suggest she's a pretty neat grandma, and tough as nails as well;
5. Professor Sprout, who comes across as a solid citizen but never gets a chance to show off the full range of her character;
6. Penelope Clearwater, the person with one of the best names. If she can put up with Percy, she must be okay;
7. Molly Weasley, the matriarch, who finally gets to strut her magical stuff in the final book;
8. Minerva McGonagall, the tight-wound Assistant Headmaster, who from time to time is allowed to show there's a sparkle underneath all that control; and
9. Luna Lovegood. I mean, who can get enough of Luna Lovegood?

Ten days to go and ten things I like about The Deathly Hallows

Just ten more days to wait. And here is a list of ten small things I particularly like about J.K. Rowling's final novel:

1. I like the fact that Hedwig dies in an early scene, not because I have it in for the lovely owl but because her meaningless death sent a shiver through me when I first read the book as I understood fully that J.K. wasn't going to pull any punches in her final epic;
2. I like the fact that Harry, Hermione and Ron take off on their own for most of the book, giving us a chance to get to know them better, both individually and as a trio of courageous friends;
3. I like the fact that Neville keeps fighting at Hogwarts, at first with Ginny and Luna, and then after they are forced to leave;
4. I like the reception the trio gets when they enter the Room of Requirement near the end;
5. I like that Ron takes a bow when all of their classmates cheer them for escaping Gringott's on a dragon;
6. I like the fact that all of the other students refuse to let Harry keep them out of the fight;
7. I like J.K.'s description of the "Snape-shaped hole" in the window after Severus flees and the fact that she has McGonagall tell the school that Snape has "done a bunk";
8. I like how J.K. manages to make Voldemort's inability to recognise the value in others (like House Elves, for example) work against him in the end;
9. I like the redemption of Kreacher; and
10. I like the fact that J.K. slows the pace down and really makes us live Harry's experience of walking into the Forbidden Forest to die.

Hogwarts House Points make me crazy

I have to admit: I've never liked the way points are awarded to (or deducted from) Houses at Hogwarts. It just seems so arbitrary, doesn't it? I mean, Snape favours his own House so he is constantly taking points from Gryffindors while McGonagall, who is more fair, refuses to favour the House she leads.

I've felt that the system for awarding points at Hogwarts is a problem ever since Dumbledore manipulated the points at the end of The Philosopher's Stone in order to take the House Cup from Slytherin and give it to Gryffindor. I don't argue with his decision to give Neville ten points for standing up to his friends but I think it's highly problematic that he happens to give the four first-year kids just enough for Gryffindor to overtake Slytherin.

Oh well. I guess you can't love everything about the Potter world, can you?

Making sure Neville appears in the seventh movie

I talked a bit about Neville Longbottom in yesterday's blog. He's an interesting character and I like the way J.K. has handled the growth in his confidence and abilities throughout the seven novels.

That's why I think it's too bad that Neville has such a small role in the first half of The Deathly Hallows. I understand why it was necessary to do this (with the focus on Harry, Hermione and Ron on the run, very few other characters had prominent roles) but that doesn't mean I don't miss Neville.

The decision to split the book into two parts for the purpose of the movies (which I think was a good one, by the way) serves to emphasize his absence. The scene on the Hogwarts Express is the only one in which Neville (played so well by Matthew Lewis) appears and it was an add-in by the film-makers, just to get Neville and several others a little screen time in that seventh movie.

I'm usually pretty critical of the scenes Stephen Kloves et al chose to invent in the films but I don't mind that one. I'd hate to see such an important character shut out of the movie altogether.

Neville is one proof that Rowling planned it all

Neville Longbottom. Introduced in almost the first magical-world scene of The Philosopher's Stone and still around to kill Nagini in one of the final scenes of The Deathly Hallows. Clearly, J.K. knew what she was doing when she created him in the first novel, proof that she had the whole series planned from the start.

Had Voldemort not chosen Harry, it would have been Neville who was the chosen one. Did Rowling have this plan in mind from the moment she wrote The Philosopher's Stone? I'm not sure. But if she didn't, she certainly did a great job of weaving what she wrote in that first book into the finale several years later.

I'll count Neville as one piece of evidence that Rowling had it planned from the start.

Evanna Lynch brings Luna to life

I think Luna Lovegood is the only character in Rowling's world who actually is more interesting in the movie versions than in the original books. Evanna Lynch does a wonderful job of bringing her to life, especially in her first appearance (The Order of the Phoenix) in the films.

While the Lovegood of the books has something of a hard edge, and not a really attractive one, Lynch's Luna is softer, sweeter and just slightly stranger. I just adore the scene where she first appears, sitting in the wagon, telling Harry that he's just as sane as she is.

Hilarious and wonderful. And the scene in the Forbidden Forest, where Harry stumbles across Luna feeding the Thestrals is another gem. Lynch does such a nice job of delivering her deeply meaningful and powerful lines with a distracted air about her, making the scene special.

Lynch succeeds in portraying Luna as a slightly melancholy but mostly content outcast, a flake with worthwhile contributions to make.

That being said, another of my favourite moments involving Luna was not presented in the films. This one takes place on the Hogwarts Express in The Half-Blood Prince when several younger girls invite Harry to sit with them, rather than with Neville and Luna.

Luna says, "People expect you to have cooler friends than us". Harry retorts: "You are cool. None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."

Luna is delighted. But not too much so. Soon, true to her character, she's immersed herself back into The Quibbler.

It's a really nice moment. A moment that cements the friendship and makes both characters even more likeable.

The first book is an action-packed ride

As I read The Philosopher's Stone through in French, I find myself amazed at how much actually happens in this book. There's action on almost every page.

First, the zoo and the Dursleys. Then the letter and the flight to the rock in the sea. Then Hagrid, Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express.

Harry arrives at school and is sorted. Neville and the Rememberall. Quidditch. Nicholas Flamel and the Stone. Late night duels. Fluffy. It just goes on and on.

I've just gotten to the scene where Norbert hatches from his egg. There are only 50 pages left in the book and it's amazing how much has happened, yet also how much still has to happen before the book draws to a close.

An amazingly busy novel!