The Complete Idiot's Guide to the World of Harry Potter (39 page)

When faced with a dementor (a guard at Azkaban prison; see Chapter 15), an exceptional wizard can perform a Patronus Charm.
Patronus
is derived from the word patron, which means protector or defender (from the Latin
patrius,
for father), and in the wizarding world, a Patronus acts as a defender against a dementor.

A Patronus, which takes a unique animal shape for the wizard conjuring it, isn’t bothered by the happiness-sucking practice of dementors.

To conjure a Patronus, a wizard must think about a very happy memory (or even a happy daydream), and then utter the incantation
Expecto Patronum!
A silver vapor then emanates from the wizard’s wand, and that vapor turns into the Patronus, which is life size, but shiny, silvery, and almost ghostlike. Wizards who are still learning the Patronus Charm produce only the silvery smoke, while more advanced wizards produce a corporeal (that is, a visible and tangible) Patronus.

Patron saints are an important feature of Catholicism and resemble a Patronus in some ways. (Saints are holy people who, when they lived, had unusual relationships with God; in Catholicism, the formal process of canonization—that is, sainthood—takes years to complete.) Patron saints, because of their individual histories, represent a particular condition (physical or spiritual), state, or vocation, and Catholics ask for intercession on the part of that patron saint when praying. So, for example, an athlete might, in prayer, ask Saint Sebastian, the patron saint of athletes, to pray for him or her to help with an injury or because of a difficult upcoming match, acting as a sort of protector. (Note that patron saints are not gods or deities; asking a patron saint to pray on one’s behalf is like asking a next-door neighbor to pray on one’s behalf. No one would suggest that the person believes the next-door neighbor is a god. The only difference is that the patron saint happens to be dead.)

Similarly, in religious practices throughout history, a guardian angel is a protector like a Patronus. Artifacts show that Babylonians and Assyrians believed in the presence of angels who guarded people from harm and helped them succeed. Both the Old and New Testaments also reference angels who protect people from harm.

The study of runes—that is, symbols that make up a 24-character alphabet known as the Futhark—does not have a significant place in the wizarding world of Harry Potter. Only one main character (Hermione Granger) is known to study the subject; she is often caught reading books like
Ancient Runes Made Easy, Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, Advanced Rune Translations,
as well as referencing a rune dictionary.

Runes have, however, had a place in British culture since the collapse of Rome and the Age of Migrations (also called the Dark Ages). Originally derived from Greek, runes were used by Germanic and Scandinavian settlers in Britain after the Romans left the area, roughly around 300 to 400 C.E. The 24 original runic symbols (9 more were added a few hundred years after their first use, but they’re considered to be posers) are as follows:

However, runes are not simply an alphabet of letters that are combined to make words; their study and understanding is far more complex. Each rune is made up of a symbol that is not only beautiful in and of itself but also has a direct translation, a meaning (an expansion of the translation) , a personal interpretation for your own life, characteristics that further examine the translation and meaning, a tie to the natural world of animals and plants, a number, a color, an element (fire, earth, water, air), a polarity (male or female), associated gods, correspondence to an astrological sign, correspondence to a Tarot card, a reverse meaning, and a converse meaning.

With so much meaning attributed to each runic symbol, runes have long been used in divination—that is, to tell one’s personal fortune. They have had other magical uses, too, including casting spells and weaving charms.

Legilimency is the practice of reading someone’s thoughts, memories, and emotions, usually for nefarious purposes, although it is sometimes done with good intentions. Eye contact makes the practice much easier. The greatest Legilimens is Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, who has a Legilimenian connection with Harry Potter; they can sometimes share thoughts and feelings without even trying (and, indeed, against their wills).

The term literally means the state of reading the mind (the Latin
legens
means “reading,” the Latin
mens
means “mind,” and the suffix
-ency
means “the state of”), but Legilimency is far subtler than simply reviewing the thoughts in a person’s head. A skilled Legilimens can determine the intentions of the person, and so can determine whether a person has just lied, is going to betray those around him, or has intentions other than those he has stated.

Occlumency is the antidote to Legilimency. Literally meaning “the state of closing the mind” (
occludo
is Latin for shut up or close), Occlumency can keep even a skilled Legilimens from penetrating the mind. The key to becoming a skilled Occlumens is to make the mind as blank as possible, thus revealing nothing about your intentions, emotions, and thoughts.

Knowing what’s in the hearts and minds of others is an oft-used device in literature, but that knowledge tends to come more from intuition and the character and tendencies of another and less from directly reading one’s thoughts. True mind-probing is relatively uncommon in literature, but two such examples come to mind: in Christopher Paolini’s
Eragon
and
Eldest,
mind-probing is common among Dragon Riders, who also learn to shut out the probes of others. Dragon Riders can also scry others, which means they can check up on people and places they have seen before (they cannot scry something they have yet to see), even if the other person or place is at a great distance. And, of course, Mr. Spock was expert at the Vulcan mind meld in the original
Star Trek
TV series—in close proximity, often touching another person’s forehead, a Vulcan can share the thoughts, knowledge, experiences, and memories of the other.

Divination is the practice of attempting to predict the future; a divination (or prophecy) is also the name given to a particular prediction of the future. A Seer (one with the Inner Eye) makes prophecies, while an Object is one about whom a prophecy is made.

Divination is one of the few foundations that nearly all cultures share, from Mesopotamia and Babylonia to the Greeks and Romans, continuing throughout the history of Western civilization, and including Eastern cultures such as China and Korea. Divination was not considered “evil” or “alternative” as it is in many cultures now, but an important component of spiritual and religious life. Even the birth and death of Jesus were foretold as prophecy.

In the wizarding world, however, divination is generally treated with a bit of, er, skepticism. Hogwarts’ Divination teacher, Sibyll Trelawney, is considered by many to be a fraud. Sibyll (
sibyl
is Greek for “wise” or “prophetic”) spends her time teaching students to interpret tea leaves, look into crystal balls, read cards, interpret dreams, and review the flight pattern of birds, none of which a true Seer needs in order to prophesize. Trelawney not only teaches Divination through such tools but also uses them to makes vague predictions of doom that few pay any attention to. She insists that her gifts are legitimate, perhaps insisting a bit too vehemently. One wonders whether the Divination teacher has any real confidence in her abilities.

However, Trelawney is the descendent of a truly gifted Seer and, in moments she does not later recall—and without the aid of any of the Divination tools on which she relies—Trelawney utters meaningful prophecies. Such prophecies (and others, revealed by other Seers) are stored in glass orbs in the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic (see Chapter 14). As long as the orbs remain unbroken, prophecies can be played back like a tape recorder. Prophecies can also be repeated by anyone who overhears them.

Prophecies do, indeed, predict what
can
happen in the future. But this is where they get interesting. Prophecies are not glimpses of the future. They are not plays that actors will soon act out, like puppets on a string. Instead, everyone involved in the prophecy is free to ignore it and go about his or her life. But because most people act on the prophecy—fearing, or, conversely, desiring its outcome—the prophecy is often fulfilled.

Such is the case with the essential prophecy around which Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort center their lives. Trelawney predicted that a boy born in July to parents who had defied Voldemort three times would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, and that either the boy or Voldemort must die at the hands of the other. Now, if Voldemort had left this alone, it may or may not have come true. But, like Oedipus’s father, he acted on it, choosing Harry as that boy, even though another boy fit the description equally. In so choosing Harry, he marked the boy, and thus set the fulfillment of the prophecy in motion.

Perhaps the best-known prophet in history was Pythia, the priestess of a shrine to Apollo, called Delphi, that was located at the center of the Greek world. Known as the Oracle at Delphi, Pythia communicated with Apollo and shared his prophecies. They were vague and subject to all sorts of interpretation, but heads of state and more common folk alike consulted the Oracle for guidance. In Roman times, pure prophecy in the trance-like state into which Pythia fell was replaced with more assistive forms of prophecy, such as those practiced by Sibyll Trelawney.

A Parselmouth—that is, one who can talk to snakes—speaks in the language of Parseltongue, which is made up of hissing sounds. It tends to be a talent one simply possesses, and it is not taught—nor for that matter, used—at Hogwarts.