Harry Potter and the Order of the Readalong 4: The fate of the known world rests in the hands of a boy who doesn't unwrap his packages in a timely manner

We’re done with Order of the Phoenix. Our feels are bruised and battered, and yet we proceed stalwartly onward.

Here’s the haps, clicky: We learn that people with speech impediments cannot do magic (somewhere, Stephen Hawking is weeping silently); Dumbledore deserves all the hugs (“Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard.”); I desire to know what the centaurs were doing with Umbridge for an entire night (and also don’t want to know even a little bit); “Lord Thingy” is the best Voldemort name substitute yet; Neville strokes his Mimbulus mimbletonia, and several readers find themselves wishing they were a gray cactus covered in oozy boils; and we learn that Harry had a two-way mirror with which to communicate directly with Sirius WRAPPED IN HIS SUITCASE FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE BOOK.

But if you prefer to stick your head in a sworn enemy's fireplace,
BY ALL MEANS.

I have for Hagrid some simple steps to making a good decision: (1) Don’t remove Grawp from the mountains. (2) Leave Grawp in the mountains. (3) If you MUST remove Grawp from the mountains, don’t bring Grawp near a school. (4) Don’t introduce your small friends to Grawp, that they may become tasty morsels in Grawp’s tummy.

But Hagrid has ignored all my advice. Just all of it.

Surely, this is the best sentence in all of literature:

“The baby-headed Death Eater had appeared in the doorway, his head bawling, his great fists flailing uncontrollably at everything around him.” (p. 793)

Also this:

“I doubt it,” shouted tiny Professor Marchbanks, “not if Dumbledore doesn’t want to be found! I should know. . . . Examined him personally in Transfiguration and Charms when he did N.E.W.T.s . . . Did things with a wand I’d never seen before . . .” (p. 711) 

Alice was asking me a few days ago who we should ship with Harry, in a perfect world where Ginny actually ends up with someone who deserves her. I still think Harry should probably be single forever, BUT I nominate Neville for the role of Best Friend (sorry, Ron).

Yes, ALL Harry’s friends are loyal, but in the Ministry of Magic, none were more loyal than our dear Neville. Not only does he repeatedly refuse to leave Harry’s side, but he bravely faces up to the loony woman who robbed him of his parents (and I become uncomfortably aroused for the eleventy-millionth time since this readalong began).

This enduring friendship makes sense on so many levels. Neville and Harry are both technical orphans, and loyal/stubborn Neville ultimately saves Harry’s life by jamming Hermione’s wand in McNair’s eyehole (you should probably give that a good polish back at the school, Hermione). But even more than that, Neville is essentially Alternate Universe Harry, because it could have been he who was destined to face off with Lord Voldemort, according to the prophecy and all that. And if events had panned out that way, and Voldemort HAD marked Neville instead of Harry, I think he would have kicked just as much ass as Harry, if not more. And there would have been weaponized flora involved.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Readalong 3: "Always listen to the woman."

We're three fourths of the way through Order of the Phoenix (minus maybe four chapters, because I have not finished this week's section), and here's the (partial) news from Wizard Town:

Ron gives Hermione perfume for Christmas (going steady); Hermione gives both Ron and Harry homework planners for Christmas (friend zone); Kreacher has a cherished photograph of Bellatrix in his hidey-hole (Kreacher and Bellatrix sitting in a tree, C-R-U-C-I-A-T-U-S-ing); even wizards aren't safe from the horrors of WebMD ("The various healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies."); Sirius is no match for Snape in a war of words ("I've warned you, Snivellus." Nice try, Sirius.); occlumency is defense against . . . external penetration(?); and Harry stares into the fire and wishes "more than anything that Sirius's head would appear there and give him advice about girls."

I think Dumbledore knows more about the womens than Sirius does.

I think maybe Harry's angst is interfering with his ability to remember basic facts.

"You survived when you were just a baby," she said quietly.

"Yeah, well," said Harry wearily, moving toward the door, "I dunno why, nor does anyone else, so it's nothing to be proud of."

Uh . . . yeah, you DO know why you survived, and so does everyone else because Dumbledore told you at the end of the last book and probably a few other times before that. And I'm glad you think your mother's ultimate sacrifice is nothing to be proud of, YOU TWAT.

But it's OK, because within the span of 5 pages, he gets verbally spanked first by the painting of Phineas Nigellus and then by Ginny. And it. is. glorious.

"Young people are so infernally convinced that they are absolutely right about everything. Has it not occurred to you, my poor puffed-up popinjay, that there might be an excellent reason why the headmaster of Hogwarts is not confiding every tiny detail of his plans to you? Have you never paused, while feeling hard-done-by, to note that following Dumbledore's orders has never yet led you into harm? No. No, like all young people, you are quite sure that you alone feel and think, you alone recognize danger, you alone are the only one clever enough to realize what the Dark Lord may be planning. . . ." (p. 496)

Of course, this Truth Bomb ricochets right off of Harry's thick head. But the Ginny Sniper Rifle comes in and finishes him off.

"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.

"Well that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, "seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."

Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he turned on the spot to face her.

"I forgot," he said.

"Lucky you," said Ginny coolly. (pp. 499-500)

I think we're done here.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Readalong 2: "Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?"

We're halfway through Order of the Phoenix, and I'm dying to tell you all these things that are in no way relevant to the plot:

Harry uses sarcasm correctly at last ("Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" GOOD ONE, HARRY); Snape assigns an essay on moonstones, making him an honorary (if fictional) member of the Wilkie Collins Fan Club; Snape says the word abysmal, causing me to fan myself dramatically; Dean Thomas misuses a mouse ("Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention." WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THAT MOUSE, DEAN THOMAS?); Harry should unhand small magical creatures before talking business ("Harry had gripped the bowtruckle so hard that it had almost snapped." "Harry looked down; he was indeed squeezing his bullfrog so tightly its eyes were popping."); Umbridge succeeds where others have failed in making me sympathize with Trelawney; and I decide that, no, there is nothing WORSE than a self-satisfied smile.

RAAAAAAAGE.

So you know how we all kind of resent Cho Chang for breathing, because we know that Harry is supposed to be with Ginny? WELL, I have an idea for viewing this situation in a way that may spare poor Cho the weight of our collective and misplaced wrath. Let's think of these three as Superman characters, can we? So if Harry is Clark Kent/Superman, that would make Ginny his Lois Lane and Cho his Lana Lang. Lana is just his high school sweetheart, a perfectly lovely girl who cannot in any way compare to Lois Lane . . . because Lois is a proper pain in the ass and just what Clark needs. So what I'm saying is, we should all let Cho have her moment before Ginny sweeps in and captures Harry with her no-nonsense attitude and skillful Bat-Bogey Hex.

"If I say no, can I still kiss you on the mouth?"

TELL me this isn't the most convoluted sentence structure.

When the bell echoed distantly over the grounds Harry rolled up his bloodstained bowtruckle picture and marched off to Herbology with his hand wrapped in a handkerchief of Hermione's and Malfoy's derisive laughter still ringing in his ears. (pp. 260-261)

You can't. Because it is, in fact, the worst sentence ever constructed. It took me three reads to realize that we weren't dealing with a handkerchief literally composed of Hermione's and Malfoy's derisive laughter, and I don't appreciate that, Rowling's Editor.

Harry's angst has been manageable so far, in my opinion. And one rant I found particularly helpful was his enthusiastic effort to convince Ron and Hermione that he's really NOT all that and a bag of chips. He emphasized that his many triumphs over evil thus far were accomplished only with the help of others and a great deal of luck. And I quite appreciate this effort to share the credit, because he HAS had a boatload of help every step of the way. Which I realize is the point. So I'm glad he ALSO realizes that. So yeah.

But Harry really needs to watch his mouth with Umbridge, for serious . . . and also for Sirius. He's starting to remind me more and more of a certain plaid-wearing bad boy in a certain '80s movie.

Never you mind my lifelong attraction to John Bender.
NEVER YOU MIND THAT.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Readalong 1: Luna is not perturbed

We're a quarter of the way into Order of the Phoenix, and SO MUCH is happening already.

Dudley has friends (?); Harry continues to take Hedwig for granted (dude, at least let her eat her frog in peace); Moody advises against stowing one's wand in one's back pocket due to the possibility of blowing off one's butt cheek (which makes me think of all the times Harry tucked his wand in his FRONT waste band . . . HE-llo); someone finally hints at the fact that Ginny is kind of a bad ass ("Yeah, size is no guarantee of power. Look at Ginny."); Ron bites the heads off chocolate frogs RIGHT in front of Trevor (rude, Ron, really rude); the Sorting Hat proves that Hufflepuff is officially the only House without a superiority complex; and Rowling secretly wishes she were named Nymphadora.

No one is surprised, you dirty bird.

We get to see a lot more of Mrs. Weasley in this part, which is fantastic. But she's stuck with the job of Den Mother to all these unruly witches and wizards, in addition to caring for the actual children and cleaning the Noble House of Black. She puts on a brave face, but the cracks start to show when Sirius wants to involve Harry in the doings of the Order of the Phoenix. And just in case that wasn't clue enough of her distressed mental state, the Boggart cleared up any remaining confusion by posing as one dead loved one after another and reducing Mrs. Weasley to a sobbing, ineffectual-against-a-Boggart mess. What a dick move, Boggart.

ALSO kind of a dick? Kreacher. He's gone completely batty after years of isolation in that awful house, his only company the unpleasant portrait of Mistress Black and the mounted heads of his fellow house-elves. But lest you feel anything akin to sympathy for him,

Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare and said, "Master must do as Master wishes," before turning away and muttering very loudly, "but Master will not turn Kreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they are up to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, with these Mudbloods and traitors and scum. . . ." (p. 118)

FILTHY HOBBITSES.

Also, Kreacher was caught snogging his dead master's trousers. That seemed important to mention.

I know everyone will probably be talking about Luna and Umbridge this week. I can't REALLY talk about Umbridge because I stopped reading right before her big chapter, but I am interested to know how one wears a cardigan sweater OVER a robe.

And as for Luna, well . . . I'm just so glad she's finally here and WHY HAVEN'T WE BEEN FRIENDS WITH HER SINCE SECOND YEAR? Now I can finally get going on this Neville/Luna ship.

Anchors aweigh!