Harry Potter: Conflict Analysis

Harry Potter: Conflict Analysis

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Background

The novels follow Harry Potter, an 11-year-old boy who discovers he is the son of famous wizards and will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry learns of an entire society of wizards and witches. He soon comes to find out that a malevolent being is out to kill him and take over the wizarding and muggle world.

Instructions

Harry Potter: Conflict Analysis Instructions

• Image
• Find an image of your chosen character

• Characters Name
• Conflict
• Pull a direct quote from the reading that shows an internal conflict. Do the same for external.
• Reasoning
• Explain in 3-4 sentences on how your quote shows an internal conflict. Do the same for external.
• Song: Interal Conflict
• Find a song that represents your conflict and list the name, quote lyrics, and give a 3-4 sentence explanation.
• Mood Board: External Conflict
• Using the same color pallet, pull six photos that represent your characters external conflict. (color, place, words, expression, ect.,)

You will choose one of the following six characters to read about. Using the "Harry Potter: Conflict Analysis" template, you will examine internal and external conflict in your chosen character. Character List: - Harry Potter - Ron Weasley -Hermione Granger -Draco Malfoy -Neville Longbottom -Severus Snape

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Draco Malfoy

Neville Longbottom

Severus Snape

He wanted more than any thing to find Ron and Hermione, to find a bit of sanity, but neither of them seemed to be in the common room. Insist‐ ing that he needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to way lay him at the foot of the stairs, Harry managed to shake every one off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as he could. To his great relief, he found Ron was lying on his bed in the other‐ wise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him. “Where've you been?” Harry said. “Oh hello,” said Ron. He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. Harry suddenly became aware that he was still wearing the scarlet Gryffind or ban‐ ner that Lee had tied around him. He has tened to take it off, but it was knot‐ ted very tightly. Ron lay on the bed with out moving, watch ing Harry strug‐ gle to remove it. “So,” he said, when Harry had finally removed the banner and thrown it in to a corner. “Congratula ions.” “What d'you mean, congratulations?” said Harry, staring at Ron. There was definitely some thing wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace. “Well…no one else got across the Age Line,” said Ron. “Not even Fred and George. What did you use - the In visibil ity Cloak?” “The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line,” said Harry slowly. “Oh right,” said Ron. “I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak…be cause it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?” “Listen,” said Har ry, “I didn't put my name in that goblet. Some one else must've done it.” Ron raised his eye brows. “What would they do that for?” “I dun no,” said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, “To kill me.” Ron's eye brows rose so high that they were in danger of disappear‐ ing in to his hair. “It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth,” he said. “If you don't want every one else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bother‐ ing to lie, you didn't get in to trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's let ting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize mon ey, eh? And you don't have to do end- of year tests either.…” “I didn't put my name in that goblet!” said Harry, starting to feel an‐ gry. “Yeah, okay,” said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Cedric. “Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you.…I'm not stupid, you know.” “You're doing a really good impression of it,” Harry snapped. “Yeah?” said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or other‐ wise, on his face now. “You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo- call or some thing.” He wrenched the hangings shut around his four- poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red vel vet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire pg. 225-227

The mirror of Erised gives its users knowledge, as it shows them what they want the most, even if they do not know for certain what that is.

Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle lawkeepers (“police men”) over a number of highly aggresive dust bins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of “Mad- Eye” Moody, the aged ex- Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the dif‐ ference between a hand shake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, up on arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the police men, but re fused to an swer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene. “And there's a picture, Weasley!” said Malfoy, flip ping the paper over and holding it up. “A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?” Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. “Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C'mon, Ron…” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry - both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy - “that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just be cause you were with her?” Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink. “Don't you dare in sult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away. BANG! Several people screamed - Harry felt something white- hot graze the side of his face - he plunged his hand in to his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the en trance hall. “OH NO YOU DON'T, LAD DIE!” Harry spun around. Pro fes sor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone- flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was look ing at Harry; the other one was point ing in to the back of his head. “Did he get you?” Moody growled. His voice was low and gravel ly. “No,” said Harry, “missed.” “LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted. “Leave - what?” Harry said, bewildered. “Not you - him!” Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoul‐der at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head. Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terried squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. “I don't think so!” roared Moody, point ing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet in to the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced up ward once more. “I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned,” growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…” The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. “Never - do - that - again -” said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced up ward again. “Professor Moody!” said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books. “Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. “What - what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air. “Teaching,” said Moody. “Teach - Moody, is that a student?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms. “Yep,” said Moody. “No!” cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had appeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. “Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Pro‐ fessor McGonagall wealdy. “Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?” “He might've mentioned it, yeah,” said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, “but I thought a good sharp shock -” “We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!” “I'll do that, then,” said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike. Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humilia‐ tion, looked malevolent up at Moody and muttered some thing in which the words “my father” were distinguishable. “Oh yeah?” said Moody quiet ly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. “Well, I know your father of old, boy.…You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me.…Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?” “Yes,” said Malfoy resentfully. “Another old friend,” growled Moody. “I've been look ing forward to a chat with old Snape.…Come on, you…” And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off to ward the dungeons.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire pg.161-163

Harry's and Ron's bookish best friend, a Muggle-born student and one of the smartest witches of her generation. Though incredibly clever, she proved herself a true Gryffindor time and time again, using her courage as well as problem-solving skills in the face of danger, proving vital in the struggle against Lord Voldemort. As Hermione says herself: “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery..."

The chapter that made us fall in love with Severus Snape ... In these memories Harry saw Snape's frantic conferences with Dumbledore about the prophecy and how he begged for some way to keep Lily safe from Voldemort; and later, when her death made him wish for his own, he becomes a spy for Dumbledore.

Mudblood was a highly derogatory term for either a Muggle or a Muggle-born or half-blood wizard or witch, though more so the former than the latter; that is, individuals with close Muggle relatives.

Harry Potter was prophesied to be the downfall of Lord Voldemort and therefore singled out at birth as the Dark Lord's rival. He was known in the wizarding world as 'The Boy Who Lived' after becoming the only known survivor of the Killing Curse, which was attempted by Voldemort when Harry was just a baby, after both his parents were murdered. But despite causing one of the most famous wizarding world events, Harry did not know he was a wizard until his eleventh birthday, due to his Muggle aunt and uncle neglecting to tell him. He would eventually go on to Hogwarts, discover his magical potential, and embark upon several great adventures with his best friends, Ron and Hermione.

Harry watched again as Snape left the Great Hall after sitting his O.W.L. in Defense Against the Dark Arts, watched as he wandered away from the castle and strayed inadvertently close to the place beneath the beech tree where James, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew sat together. But Harry kept his distance this time, because he knew what happened after James had hoisted Severus into the air and taunted him; he knew what had been done and said, and it gave him no pleasure to hear it again . . . He watched as Lily joined the group and went to Snape’s defense. Distantly he heard Snape shout at her in his humiliation and his fury, the unforgivable word: “Mudblood.” The scene changed . . . “I’m sorry.” “I’m not interested.” “I’m sorry!” “Save your breath.” It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just— ” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice. “It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can 675 Chapter 33 understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends—you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?” He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. “I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.” “No—listen, I didn’t mean— ” “— to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?” He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole . . . The corridor dissolved, and the scene took a little longer to reform: Harry seemed to fly through shifting shapes and colors until his surroundings solidified again and he stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone . . . His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder, wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for— Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand. “Don’t kill me!” “That was not my intention.” Any sound of Dumbledore Apparating had been drowned by the sound of the wind in the branches. He stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, and his face was illuminated 676 The Prince’s Tale from below in the light cast by his wand. “Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?” “No—no message— I’m here on my own account!” Snape was wringing his hands. He looked a little mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him. “I— I come with a warning—no, a request—please— ” Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Snape faced each other. “What request could a Death Eater make of me?” “The— the prophecy . . . the prediction . . . Trelawney . . . ” “Ah, yes,” said Dumbledore. “How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?” “Everything—everything I heard!” said Snape. “That is why—it is for that reason—he thinks it means Lily Evans!” “The prophecy did not refer to a woman,” said Dumbledore. “It spoke of a boy born at the end of July— ” “You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all— ” “If she means so much to you,” said Dumbledore, “surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?” “I have— I have asked him— ” “You disgust me,” said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little, “You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?” Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. 677 Chapter 33 “Hide them all, then,” he croaked. “Keep her— them— safe. Please.” “And what will you give me in return, Severus?” “In—in return?” Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, “Anything.”

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pg.683-686

Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, ‘Good evening, Draco.’ Malfoy stepped forwards, glancing around quickly to check that he and Dumbledore were alone. His eyes fell upon the second broom. ‘Who else is here?’ ‘A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?’ Harry saw Malfoy’s pale eyes shift back to Dumbledore in the greenish glare of the Mark. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight.’ ‘Well, well,’ said Dumbledore, as though Malfoy was showing him an ambitious homework project. ‘Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?’ ‘Yeah,’ said Malfoy, who was panting. ‘Right under your nose and you never realised!’ ‘Ingenious,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Yet … forgive me … where are they now? You seem unsupported.’ ‘They met some of your guard. They’re having a fight down below. They won’t be long … I came on ahead. I – I’ve got a job to do.’ ‘Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,’ said Dumbledore softly. There was silence. Harry stood imprisoned within his own invisible, paralysed body, staring at the two of them, his ears straining to hear sounds of the Death Eaters’ distant fight, and in front of him, Draco Malfoy did nothing but stare at Albus Dumbledore who, incredibly, smiled. ‘Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.’ ‘How do you know?’ said Malfoy at once. He seemed to realize how childish the words had sounded; Harry saw him flush in the Mark’s greenish light. ‘You don’t know what I’m capable of,’ said Malfoy more forcefully, ‘you don’t know what I’ve done!’ ‘Oh, yes, I do,’ said Dumbledore mildly. ‘You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts … so feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it …’ ‘It has been in it!’ said Malfoy vehemently. ‘I’ve been working on it all year, and tonight –’ Somewhere in the depths of the castle below Harry heard a muffled yell. Malfoy stiffened and glanced over his shoulder. ‘Somebody is putting up a good fight,’ said Dumbledore conversationally. ‘But you were saying … yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school which, I admit, I thought impossible … how did you do it?’ But Malfoy said nothing: he was still listening to whatever was happening below and seemed almost as paralysed as Harry was. ‘Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone,’ suggested Dumbledore. ‘What if your back-up has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realised, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight, too. And after all, you don’t really need help … I have no wand at the moment … I cannot defend myself.’ Malfoy merely stared at him. ‘I see,’ said Dumbledore kindly, when Malfoy neither moved nor spoke. ‘You are afraid to act until they join you.’ ‘I’m not afraid!’ snarled Malfoy, though he still made no move to hurt Dumbledore. ‘It’s you who should be scared!’ ‘But why? I don’t think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe … so tell me, while we wait for your friends … how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it.’ Malfoy looked as though he was fighting down the urge to shout, or to vomit. He gulped and took several deep breaths, glaring at Dumbledore, his wand pointing directly at the latter’s heart. Then, as though he could not help himself, he said, ‘I had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one’s used for years.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince pg. 282-284

“Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?” “But what must he do?” “That is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time— after my death—do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake.” “For Nagini?” Snape looked astonished. “Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.” “Tell him what?” Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort’s mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.” Harry seemed to be watching the two men from one end of a long tunnel, they were so far away from him, their voices echoing strangely in his ears. 686 The Prince’s Tale “So the boy . . . the boy must die?” asked Snape quite calmly. “And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.” Another long silence. Then Snape said, “I thought . . . all those years . . . that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.” “We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,” said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. “Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth. Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.” Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified. “You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?” “Don’t be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?” “Lately, only those whom I could not save,” said Snape. He stood up. “You have used me.” “Meaning?” “I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter— ” “But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?” “For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears. “After all this time?” “Always,” said Snape. And the scene shifted. Now, Harry saw Snape talking to the portrait of Dumbledore behind his desk. “You will have to give Voldemort the correct date of Harry’s departure from his aunt and uncle’s,” said Dumbledore. “Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Voldemort believes you so well informed. However, you must plant the idea of decoys; that, I think, ought to ensure Harry’s safety. Try confounding Mundungus Fletcher. And Severus, if you are forced to take part in the chase, be sure to act your part convincingly . . . I am counting upon you to remain in Lord Voldemort’s good books as long as possible, or Hogwarts will be left to the mercy of the Carrows . . . ”

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pg 686-688

Harry's and Hermione's best friend. Fiery haired and headed, Ron was the second youngest of the seven Weasley children. Used to hand-me-downs, from robes to rats, Ron’s friendship with Harry often came under pressure as he tried to deal with living in the shadow of his best friend. However, there was more to Ron than his red hair and broken wand. Ron might not have Hermione’s brains or Harry’s fame, but his loyalty, bravery and selflessness make him an important part of the trio.

Draco Malfoy is the son and only child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and was a student at Hogwarts in the same year as Harry Potter. He is a rival of Harry, actively trying to undermine him in any way he can. Draco has white-blond hair and a pale, pointed face. He owns an eagle owl which made almost daily deliveries of sweets from home. Draco became the Slytherin Quidditch team’s Seeker after his father made a generous donation of Nimbus 2001 brooms to the team

Malfoy goes to hex Harry while his back is turned, which prompts Mad-Eye Moody to appear and take action—he's furious at the idea that Malfoy would attack when his opponent's back was turned

“We thought you knew what you were doing!” shouted Ron, standing up, and his words pierced Harry like scalding knives. “We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!” “Ron!” said Hermione, this time clearly audible over the rain thundering on the tent roof, but again, he ignored her. “Well, sorry to let you down,” said Harry, his voice quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. “I’ve been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve found on Horcrux— ” “Yeah, and we’re about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them—nowhere effing near in other words?” “Take off the locket, Ron,” Hermione said, her voice unusually 307 Chapter 15 high. “Please take it off. You wouldn’t be talking like this if you hadn’t been wearing it all day.” “Yeah, he would,” said Harry, who did not want excuses made for Ron. “D’you think I haven’t noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D’you think I didn’t guess you were thinking this stuff?” “Harry we weren’t— ” “Don’t lie!” Ron hurled at her. “You said it too, you said you were disappointed, you said you’d thought he had a bit more to go on than— ” “I didn’t say it like that—Harry, I didn’t!” she cried. The rain was pounding the tent, tears were pouring down Hermione’s face, and the excitement of a few minutes before had vanished as if it had never been, a short-lived firework that had flared and died, leaving everything dark, wet, and cold. The sword of Gryffindor was hidden they knew not where, and they were three teenagers in a tent whose only achievement was not, yet, to be dead. “So why are you still here?” Harry asked Ron. “Search me,” said Ron. “Go home then,” said Harry. “Yeah, maybe I will!” shouted Ron, and he took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. “Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a rat’s fart, do you, it’s only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I’ve-Faced-Worse Potter doesn’t care what happens to her in there—well, I do, all right, giant spider and mental stuff— ” “I was only saying— she was with the others, they were with Hagrid— ” 308 The Goblin’s Revenge “Yeah, I get it, you don’t care! And what about the rest of my family, the Weasleys don’t need another kid injured, did you hear that?” “Yeah, I— ” “Not bothered what it meant, though?” “Ron!” said Hermione, forcing her way between them. “I don’t think it means anything new has happened, anything we don’t know about: think, Ron, Bill’s already scarred; plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you’re supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I’m sure that’s all he meant— ” “Oh, you’re sure, are you? Right then, well, I won’t bother myself about them. It’s all right for you two, isn’t it, with your parents safely out of the way— ” “My parents are dead!” Harry bellowed. “And mine could be going the same way!” yelled Ron. “Then GO!” roared Harry. “Go back to them, pretend you’ve got over your spattergroit and Mummy’ll be able to feed you up and— ” Ron made a sudden movement: Harry reacted, but before either wand was clear of its owner’s pocket, Hermione had raised her own. “Protego!” she cried, and an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on the one side and Ron on the other; all of them were forced backward a few steps by the strength of the spell, and Harry and Ron glared from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred toward Ron: Something had broken between them. “Leave the Horcrux,” Harry said. 309 Chapter 15 Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione. “What are you doing?” “What do you mean?” “Are you staying or what?” “I . . . ” She looked anguished. “Yes—yes, I’m staying, Ron, we said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help— ” “I get it. You choose him.” “Ron, no—please—come back, come back!” She was impeded by her own Shield charm; by the time she had removed it he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron’s name amongst the trees

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pg. 307-310

Neville is often portrayed as a bumbling and disorganised character, and a rather mediocre student, though he is highly gifted at Herbology. However, the character's personality appears to undergo a transition after he joins Dumbledore's Army in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The encouragement he receives gives him confidence in his magical abilities, turning him into a more competent wizard. Eventually, Neville becomes the leader of Dumbledore's Army during Harry, Ron and Hermione's absence searching for Horcruxes

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear." Neville went scarlet. Harry glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers. Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably." Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap. "Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. "Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a boggart in there." Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. 108 Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks -- I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. "So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?" Hermione put up her hand. "It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most." "Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. "This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's 'mall sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?" Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go. "Er -- because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?" "Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have com pany when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake -- tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. 109 "The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. "We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please ... Riddikulus!" "Riddikulus!" said the class together. "Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville." The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows. "Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?" Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out. "didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully. Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban pg. 107-109

While there are many things that don't make sense about Snape, numerous mysteries were resolved when it was revealed that Snape was Lily's childhood friend, was deeply in love with her, inadvertently orchestrated her death, and turned spy for the Order of the Phoenix as penance for his crimes.

In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows — Part 1, the war with Voldemort is getting worse. All witches and wizards begin to fear for thier loved ones lives as they can become collaterial damaage.

„I‘m the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley,“ said Malfoy, smugly. „Everyone‘s just been admiring the brooms my father‘s bought our team.“ Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him. „Good, aren‘t they?“ said Malfoy smoothly. „But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.“ The Slytherin team howled with laughter. „At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in,“ said Hermione sharply. „They got in on pure talent.“ The smug look on Malfoy‘s face flickered. „No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,“ he spat. Harry knew at once that Malfoy had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, „How dare you!“; and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, „You‘ll pay for that one, Malfoy!“ and pointed it furiously under Flint‘s arm at Malfoy‘s face. A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron‘s wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass. „Ron! Ron! Are you all right?“ squealed Hermione. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap. The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him. „We‘d better get him to Hagrid‘s, it‘s nearest,“ said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms. „What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can‘t you?" Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front. „Oooh,“ said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. „Can you hold him still, Harry?“ „Get out of the way, Colin!“ said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest. „Nearly there, Ron,“ said Hermione as the gamekeeper‘s cabin came into view. „You‘ll be all right in a minute—almost there—“ They were within twenty feet of Hagrid‘s house when the front door opened, but it wasn‘t Hagrid who emerged. Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of palest mauve today, came striding out. „Quick, behind here,“ Harry hissed, dragging Ron behind a nearby bush. Hermione followed, somewhat reluctantly. „It‘s a simple matter if you know what you‘re doing!“ Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. „If you need help, you know where I am! I‘ll let you have a copy of my book. I‘m surprised you haven‘t already got one—I‘ll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!“ And he strode away toward the castle. Harry waited until Lockhart was out of sight, then pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid‘s front door. They knocked urgently. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was. „Bin wonderin‘ when you‘d come ter see me—come in, come in—thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again—“ Harry and Hermione supported Ron over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid didn‘t seem perturbed by Ron‘s slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as he lowered Ron into a chair. „Better out than in,“ he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. „Get ‘em all up, Ron.“ „I don‘t think there‘s anything to do except wait for it to stop,“ said Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. „That‘s a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand—“ Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry. „What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?“ Harry asked, scratching Fang‘s ears. „Givin‘ me advice on gettin‘ kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a halfplucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. „Like I don‘ know. An‘ bangin‘ on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I‘ll eat my kettle.“ It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts‘ teacher, and Harry looked at him in surprise. Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, „I think you‘re being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job—“ „He was the on‘y man for the job,“ said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed squelchily into his basin. „An‘ I mean the on‘ one. Gettin‘ very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren‘t too keen ter take it on, see. They‘re startin‘ ter think it‘s jinxed. No one‘s lasted long fer a while now. So tell me,“ said Hagrid, jerking his head at Ron. „Who was he tryin‘ ter curse?“ „Malfoy called Hermione something—it must‘ve been really bad, because everyone went wild.“ „It was bad,“ said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty. „Malfoy called her Mudblood, Hagrid—“ Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged. „He didn‘!“ he growled at Hermione. „He did,“ she said. „But I don‘t know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course—“ „It‘s about the most insulting thing he could think of,“ gasped Ron, coming back up. „Mudblood‘s a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born—you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards—like Malfoy‘s family—who think they‘re better than everyone else because they‘re what people call pure-blood.“ He gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, „I mean, the rest of us know it doesn‘t make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom—he‘s pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up.“ „An‘ they haven‘t invented a spell our Hermione can‘ do,“ said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta. „It‘s a disgusting thing to call someone,“ said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. „Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It‘s ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn‘t married Muggles we‘d‘ve died out.“

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets pg. 56-58

Much like Poltergeists with mischief and Dementors with gloom and depression, Boggarts seemed to embody the human emotion of fear, and consequently feed on other beings' fears. Boggarts' ability to shapeshift showed remarkable speed and fluidity.

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom. "Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. "You're going out again," he said. "No, no, no," said Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?" Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. "You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble." "You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important." But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll -- I'll fight you!" "Neville, "Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot --" "Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville. I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!" "Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing." He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight. "Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!" Harry turned to Hermione. "Do something," he said desperately. Hermione stepped forward. "Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this." She raised her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville. Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board. Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror. "What've you done to him?" Harry whispered. "It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry." "We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry. "You'll understand later, Neville," said Ron as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak. But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone pg 217-219

He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air -- she and the others existed only in the mirror. She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes -- her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green -- exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection. "Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?" They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees -- Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone pg. 166

She dropped the syllabary onto the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts, A History. “Listen,” said Harry. He had sat up straight. Ron and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance. “I know you said after Dumbledore’s funeral that you wanted to come with me,” Harry began. “Here he goes,” Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes. “As we knew he would,” she sighed, turning back to the books. “You know, I think I will take Hogwarts, A History. Even if we’re not going back there, I don’t think I’d feel right if I didn’t have it with— ” “Listen!” said Harry again. “No, Harry, you listen,” said Hermione. “We’re coming with you. That was decided months ago—years, really.” “But— ” “Shut up,” Ron advised him. “— are you sure you’ve thought this through?” Harry persisted. “Let’s see,” said Hermione, slamming Travels with Trolls onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. “I’ve been packing for days, so we’re ready to leave at a moment’s notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye’s whole stock of Polyjuice Potion 96 The Ghoul in Pajamas right under Ron’s mum’s nose. “I’ve also modified my parents’ memories so that they’re convinced that they’re really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life’s ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That’s to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me— or you, because unfortunately, I’ve told them quite a bit about you. “Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I’ll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don’t—well, I think I’ve cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don’t know that they’ve got a daughter, you see.” Hermione’s eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arms around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack of tact. Harry could not think of anything to say, not least because it was highly unusual for Ron to be teaching anyone else tact. “I—Hermione, I’m sorry— I didn’t— ” “Didn’t realize that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you’ve done.” “Nah, he’s just eaten,” said Ron. “Go on, he needs to know!” “Oh, all right. Harry, come here.” For the second time Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped over to the door.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pg. 96-97

English half-blood wizard serving as Potions Master (1981-1996), Head of Slytherin House (1981-1997), Defence Against the Dark Arts professor (1996-1997), and Headmaster (1997-1998) of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater. His double life played an extremely important role in both of the Wizarding Wars against Voldemort.

Each competing school was allowed one champion, over the age of 17, to represent them during the Tournament. Each Tournament consisted of three tasks designed to test the champions' courage, intelligence, resourcefulness, and magical ability. These tasks were exceedingly dangerous and differ from year to year.

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him…and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father. “Your mother's coming…” he said quietly. “She wants to see you… it will be alright…hold on.…” And she came…first her head, then her body…a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Volde mort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear…. “When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time…you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts…do you understand, Harry?” “Yes,” Harry gasped, fight ing now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers. “Harry…” whispered the figure of Cedric, “take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents,…” “I will,” said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand. “Do it now,” whispered his fa ther's voice, “be ready to run…do it now.…” “NOW!” Harry yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for an‐ other moment any way - he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Volde mort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in up on Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze - And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knock ing two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind head stones, feel ing their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones - he was dodg‐ ing curs es and graves, pelt ing to ward Cedric's body, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do - “Stun him!” he heard Voldemort scream. Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel - “Impedimenta!” he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him. From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm… “Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!” shrieked Voldemort. Har‐ ry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Volde mort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach - Volde mort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curled into a smile, saw him raise his wand. “Ac cio!” Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared to ward him. Harry caught it by the handle - He heard Volde mort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speed ing him away in a whirl of wind and color, and Cedric along with him. …They were going back.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire pg. 515-517

Heroimine, Harry, and Ron run in to Neville as they try and sneak out of their dorm to prevent the Sorcerer's Stone from being stolen.

Voldemort, seeking to punish Lucius Malfoy still further for the botched capture of Harry, demanded that Draco perform a task so difficult that he would almost certainly fail – and pay with his life. Draco was to murder Albus Dumbledore – how, Voldemort did not trouble to say.

Originally beloning to Salazar Slytherin. It made its way into the hands of Tom Riddle, who used it for darker purposes, transforming it into a Horcrux. The Slytherin locket was shown to put dark thoughts into the wearer's mind.

The Triwizard Tournament was rocked forever when the Cup turned out to be a Portkey, which took Cedric and Harry to a graveyard far from Hogwarts where Diggory was killed by Peter Pettigrew. Harry managed to escape Voldamort and return his fellow champion's body to his family.