For all the retconning that had to happen for TAZ to be a cohesive story, the fact that John (and the Hunger) didn’t appear as actual villains until The Stolen Century continually astounds me, because his influence and the fight against him is felt in every breath of TAZ.
I see his despairing influence in Isaak’s labored confession of Jack’s murder. I see it in Lucas’s desperation to save his mother, no matter the cost. I see it in Hurley begging Sloane to remember she’s not a killer. I see it in the glassy, mirrored surface of the remains of Phandolin.
On the other hand, I see the bulwark against the nihilism John represents as well. I see it in every “horseshit!” one of the boys yells when they’re confronted with what seems like a hopeless situation. I see it in the words of comfort they hand out – telling Roswell they made Refuge safe, letting Lucretia know she has faith in herself, promising Sloane they won’t let this happen again. It’s shown in the smaller moments, too; every time they lift each other up or laugh at a joke or work together. Their support of Noelle, Magnus making a ring for Carey to give to Killian, Taako teaching Angus magic, Merle deciding to go back to his family.
The power of how TAZ works as a story lies in the fact that the premise is about life and hope, and every word spoken that adds to that, every act that denies despair and suggests that all is not lost, every smile, every spell cast with the intention to help, every bond created, works against the villain before we even know his name.
We don’t see John and the Hunger themselves until almost the end of the story, but it doesn’t matter. We know our heroes have been fighting him every step of the way, whether we (and they) knew it or not.
We already know how the story ends, because how could it end any other way than with hope, after everything we’ve seen?
How could it end with anything other than the complete dismantling of destructive despair, the affirmation of joy, the promise of future days of happiness?
-Mrs. Fluffybottom was an admittedly unattractive cat
– She’s gangly and thin with little grace and one long canine that sticks out past her lips. There’s a mean look in her eye, but that’s mainly just the way her brow was formed
-But her coat is long and silky black and her eyes are a rich orange. Her purr is loud and comforting and she’s always mindful of her claws
-Her owner is just as long and gangly as her, but with much more grace. He’s her favourite human and often tries to get away with being on his lap as often as possible. He is the best at petting her and always knows where her spots are. Shame he always smells like potions as she has to rub up against him often to get him to smell more like her
-Fluffybottom is the only creature in the world that Severus trusts enough to let go of his guard. She’s soothing and attentive, always gently kneading him on the belly when he’s sad or purring against him when he’s in pain. It’s as if she knows him best
– Severus has a hard time sleeping at night, but Fluffybottom has learned she can help by laying against his back and giving him her best purrs. She doesn’t stop even when she hears him breathing deeply, asleep at last.
-There’s a loose string on the hem of his robe, it’s the new enemy in the dungeons and Fluffybottom has vowed to vanquish it. The curious murmurs of Severus’ potions class when he walks in without his large cape annoys him. Fluffybottom made it too hard to walk normally with her constantly pouncing on him so he had to leave it behind.
-Fluffybottom does not like any students save for Ms. Granger, but that is only because she smells like her orange friend Crookshanks.
-Professor McGonagall is her second favourite human, followed by Filch
-There is a night where her human is stressed and he’s pacing his chamber incessantly. She’s learned years ago not to cross in front of his moving feet so instead she waits for him to stop.
–
He’s sad again and when he picks her up to hold her, he tells her he loves her and that he’ll ensure she’s well taken care of once he’s gone
-Fluffybottom does not understand this until the next night when her human does not come home.
-It’s been weeks. It’s been months. And though Minerva is sweet and doting on her, Fluffybottom is no longer happy. She sleeps by the door now so that she doesn’t miss when her human comes back.
-The boy with the glasses is making a ruckus, talking too loudly and waving his arms too much. She ignores him
-There was a reason her human didn’t like this boy and now she sees why. He’s irritating. And he keeps visiting…only now there’s a scent to him, a new one. A scent that makes her nose twitch and her tail excitedly high. She meows and rubs and kneads at this boy. Where is he? Where is her human? Is he in his pocket? She’s seen wizards shrink things before so it’s not impossible.
-Minerva says something and the next thing Fluffybottom knew was that she was being picked up and carried away.
-She’s gently put down on the floor of a new strange house and she wants to explore it, find it’s new scents and mark them as her own, but there’s a cough upstairs and she knows that voice too well to ignore it.
-Fluffybottom bounds up the stairs two at a time, listening and smelling around until she finds it. She finds him.
-With a loud chitter and excited tail swish, she hops on the bed to her human and immediately kneads him, yelling excitedly and unable to keep still
-Her human doesn’t look well and there’s a large bandage on his neck but he’s here, he’s back and he’s petting her again and if she didn’t know him better, she could have sworn she saw him cry.
-She lays on his belly that night and when she hears him curse in pain, she does what she does best
She curls up close to his neck on the pillow and purrs and purrs and purrs
The morality of fantasy and horror is, by and large, the strict morality of the fairy tale. The vampire is slain, the alien is blown out of the airlock, the Dark Lord is vanquished, and, perhaps at some loss, the good triumph – not because they are better armed but because Providence is on their side.
Why does the third of the three brothers, who shares his food with the old woman in the wood, go on to become king of the country? Why does Bond manage to disarm the nuclear bomb a few seconds before it goes off rather than, as it were, a few seconds afterwards? Because a universe where that did not happen would be a dark and hostile place. Let there be goblin hordes, let there be terrible environmental threats, let there be giant mutated slugs if you really must, but let there also be hope. It may be a grim, thin hope, an Arthurian sword at sunset, but let us know that we do not live in vain.
A patronus, Harry tells Hermione, is acing a test and the warmth of a butterbeer between your hands. It is your friends holding you when you fall, and Ron’s sparkling eyes when you whisper hi. And there’s an otter, swimming, and Hermione is blushing.
A patronus, Harry tells Ron, is Ginny’s shaky smile lighting up the world at the end of second year. It is winning the Quidditch World Cup, unwrapping yet another knitted jumper, and your startled surprise at the sight of Hermione punching Draco in the face. And there’s a dog, chasing the otter, and Ron is laughing.
A patronus, Harry tells Luna, is the feeling of starlight on your skin and grass between your bare toes. It is snow melting through your fingers, the magic your mother used to make, something singing in your heart when you stare at the impossible. And there’s a hare, jumping, and Luna is shining.
A patronus, Harry tells Cho, is Marietta shouting the lyrics of her favourite song, dancing in the rain during a storm. It is the look on Cedric’s face when he saw you at the Yule Ball, his hand holding yours and never letting go. And there’s a swan, sliding, and Cho is crying.
A patronus, Harry tells Seamus, is Dean’s funny expression when he is about to burst into laughter and the sound of a explosion that turns out right. It is the fireworks, bright flowers blossoming in the night sky; and the fire burning in your lungs as you fly. And there’s a fox, running, and Seamus is smirking.
A patronus, Harry tells Ginny, is the world expanding underneath you and the wind playing with your hair. It is dancing and laughing until there are tears on your cheeks, Molly’s disapproving voice and Arthur’s amused eyes after one of the twins’ pranks. And there’s a horse, flying, and Ginny is grinning.
A patronus, Harry thinks, is that weird feeling that lives in his chest when the Room of Requirement glows silver, speaking of times when the world was golden.
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