Friday, May 8, 2015

MINERVA MCGONAGALL AND THE BOOK OF JUDE

I graduated last week and just like last time I graduated I am currently rereading the Harry Potter series, which has reminded me of this paper I wrote last year. I decided that now was as good a time as any to share it. 

I wrote this paper for a Social Justice Seminar. In it I ask a variety of question about the role of force and protective action, as it relates to God's action in the book of Jude. Underlying this question I am also moving in a more free hermeneutical direction. At the time I was reading Heidegger and Gadamer, so I play a little more freely with "proper" interpretation that some people may be comfortable with. I do this because I am also wrestling in the paper with whether the Bible does in fact say anything worth taking into consideration in the 21st century, specifically in light of feminist and post-colonial criticisms. 

If you have not read the Book of Jude recently I encourage you to do so because I jump in at the deep end of the pool.

Without further ado:

JUDE, JUSTICE, AND THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR: PROFESSOR MINERVA MCGONAGALL AS A LENS THROUGH WHICH TO READ JUDE’S DEPICTION OF GOD’S PROTECTIVE ACTION
  

            A quick search of the Internet, Regent’s library catalogue, and the EBSCO journal database for the keywords “Jude AND Justice” yields very few results. Of those results, the majority occur because the author’s name happens to be Jude, not because the book of Jude is the subject. Does the book of Jude truly have so little to say about God’s character so as to be excluded from academic literature, or has our understanding of God’s character become segmented to the degree that discussions of Jude fail to draw a connection to God’s justice? I think it is the latter. Challenging segmented thinking regarding God’s character, I will argue that the theocentric vision of Jude portrays the character of God – inclusive of God’s justice – as caller, protector, and keeper of the beloved, and subsequently invokes believers to imitate such protective acts. However, such a conception of God, and the human action that may follow from it, clashes with current ideas regarding relationships that narrowly focus on empowerment. Consequently, I attempt to incorporate the role of protector, based on Jude, into human relationships.[1] To facilitate this integration I will draw upon the character of Professor Minerva McGonagall of the Harry Potter series – constructed from the books, movies, and Pottermore online – using her as a lens through which to understand and limit a protector role in situations requiring justice.[2] I will posit that she typifies matriarchal protection, thereby contrasting oppressive, xenophobic, and patriarchal protection that may result from some readings of Jude.
The letter of Jude has “long been neglected due to its small size, strong language and apparent theological lightness.”[3] Moreover, the book’s imagery is foreign to modern readers, and its use of intertestamental literature pains many evangelicals, throwing into question presuppositions of scriptural authority and “correct” uses of ancient story. For these reasons, as well as its absence in the lectionary, it remains to a large extent a dormant text. After establishing Professor McGonagall as a lens through which to read the protective acts of Jude, I will exposit the letter of Jude in three parts in a way that lends the text to addressing just protective action. First, the framing of the letter will be considered; second, the stories Jude reworks will be touched upon; and finally, I will inquire into how Jude ties together his letter. During this exposition I will also highlight potential problems arising from the text. Responding to each of these objections may be done through greater textual analysis, situated readings, historical exegeses, etc.; however, such a treatment is beyond the scope of this paper. Instead, I will utilize the character of Professor McGonagall as a dialogical lens through which to engage the tradition that suitably nuances a twenty-first century, western understanding of the book of Jude.
Readers of the Harry Potter series might stereotype Professor McGonagall as being fair to a fault, but her fairness, justice, and moral compass are rooted in a complex character. Her fairness is helpfully explained by the fact that she is the daughter “of a Scottish Presbyterian minister.”[4] She is described as resembling her father in temperament – upright and honest. At the same time, Minerva, as a child, grew up in a home plagued by the secret that she and her mother were witches. Raised in the midst of this tension – that there is correct action but that such action is particular to each circumstance, which is sometimes secrecy – motivates her desire for impartial, yet appropriately situated, action. This history prevents her from becoming a stereotype of ideal fairness, thereby validating her as a realistically human (although fictional), not idealized, lens through which to read Jude.
Utilizing Professor McGonagall as an interpretive lens is further validated by her refusal of partiality in the treatment of students, as she often does not protect her students from the consequences of their actions. For example, after the mountain troll incident she docks points from her own house, even while being concerned for the students’ safety.[5] Moreover, on the occasion of Norbert the dragon’s release – when Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Draco are caught out of bed wandering the halls – she does not treat the students of her house preferentially; rather, they all lose house points and are given detention.[6] Finally, she exhibits her finitude when she displays her exacerbation toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione: “Why is it, when something happens, it is always you three?”[7] These examples assist in substantiating her as a valid character to use as a lens for reading Jude, as she exhibits the traits of an unbiased protector, who is motived by fairness and justice that is specific to each occasion.
Protection on specific occasions, as a form of justice, is an underlying theme Jude cultivates throughout his letter and is evident within his a greeting. Beginning his letter, Jude writes “to those who are called (klētos – privileged), who are loved (agapaō – esteemed) in God the Father and kept (tēreō – watched, guarded) for Jesus Christ”(v.1).[8] This threefold description of the called, the loved, and the kept demarcates not only the traits attributed to the recipients of the letter, but at the same time develops the character of God as the one who calls, loves, and keeps.
This character of God, and the traits attributed to the recipients of the letter, are for a specific context of trials. In verse 3 Jude writes, “I find it necessary to write and encourage (parakaleōinvitation to come) you to carry on the struggle (epagōnizomaito contend strenuously in defence of) for the faith. The struggle is further clarified in verse 4, as being against those “who turn (metatithēmi – pervert) the grace of our God into an excuse for blatant immorality (aselgeiaintemperance; licentiousness, lasciviousness) and deny our only master and Lord, Jesus Christ.” The language Jude uses has deliberate sexual and overindulgent connotations to describe those who take more than enough. Jude’s polemic here is against those who endanger the community, and thereby Jesus’ name, through their greedy disposition towards life.
Jude’s second section begins with a Midrash against the overindulgent, through a retelling of a number of Old Testament stories in which God’s action is aggressive, protective, and judgemental in response to those with a greedy disposition.[9] There is a unifying theme of justice in the stories, beginning with the typological redemption story of the exodus. Jude writes in verse 5, “the Lord, having saved (sōzōto save, rescue; to preserve safe and unharmed) his people out of Egypt, afterward destroyed (apollymi – to destroy utterly) those who did not believe.” Here the pair of God’s just protection (sōzō) and God’s judgement (apollymi) are tied together a constellation of action that responds to unjust situations, such as the oppression in Egypt.
Jude goes on to highlight God’s just action in the cases of the angel rebellion, Sodom and Gomorrah, and the account of unnatural angelic relations. Of these, the consequences of the angels’ actions are articulated in verse 7, where they “are exhibited as an example by undergoing the punishment (dikē right, justice) of eternal fire.”[10] Gene Green comments on Jude’s use of these stories, stating, “Jude’s principle emphasis in verse 6 is on the way the angels abandoned their proper place. This the angels (Watchers) did, according to the tradition, by engaging in sexual relations with humans (1 En. 12.4)...[Jude] highlights the way such sin is a violation of the ordering of things.”[11] In the context of a discussion regarding justice, “proper order” might easily be heard as a socially oppressive order, a maintenance or justification of the dominant, patriarchal, and hetero-normal perspective.
The critique that Jude is oppressive is not easily overlooked. Ruth Anne Reese correctly identifies that “[t]he book of Jude does not say anything about women, and only a few women have commented on the book.” [12] As such, I feel obligated to acknowledge that there is at a minimum a latent patriarchal worldview present in this text. At the same time, the identifiers of the called, loved, and kept partly counteract a completely oppressive patriarchy; the caller, lover, and keeper offers something that was previously absent from the relationship. Moreover, if one is reading these stories with the understanding that Jude’s condemnation is regarding an overreaching greed, then this argument for proper ordering ought to apply only to circumstances where “enough” (relational equality) is overreached, not where it is yet to be attained[SK1] .
Responding to the charge that there is at minimum a latent patriarchy within the letter of Jude, and acknowledging that “[r]eading is also participation,” it becomes apparent that the reader may participate in reading with a feminist lens in an effort to establish a contemporary reading of this text.[13] As such, reading through Professor McGonagall’s actions of maternal care offers nuance to patriarchal protection, as she is a strong, independent woman and her actions transgress the expected. An example of this is her exhibition of maternal care for her peer Professor Trelawney when Dolores Umbridge fires and attempts to kick Professor Trelawney out of Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall’s care is extended even when the person is in an utterly disordered state; “Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad.”[14] In this situation, Professor McGonagall endangers her career for the sake of the other. J. K. Rowling described the scene this way:
Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.
‘There, there, Sybill…calm down…blow your nose on this…it is not as bad as you think, now…you are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…’
‘Oh really, Professor McGonagall?’ said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward.[15]

Here Professor McGonagall protects and cares for Professor Trelawney’s physical and emotional needs, which can be interpreted as further mitigating potential readings of patriarchal, dominating judgement in Jude with maternal actions of risking oneself even for the dishevelled and demeaned other.
In addition to Professor McGonagall’s nuancing of “proper order” protective action, Jude rounds out the constellation of just – protective and judgemental – action by continuing his Midrash, wherein he contrasts Michael the archangel with the stories of Cain, Balaam, and Korah. Jude states that judgement will come to those who err for the sake of gain. Regarding such people, he writes in verse 12: “These people are blemishes on your love-feasts, feasting with you without reverence, caring (poimainō - to feed, pasture, tend a flock) only for themselves.” Again, the charge occurs because such people miss the communal aspect of care. For Jude such people are nothing but a façade – a waterless cloud, an autumn tree without fruit. This segment closely echoes the “woes” in 1 Enoch by again connecting sin with judgement from God. Jude here takes up the prophetic mantle over-against the heretics.[16] Green quotes Nickelsburg, who articulates that 1 Enoch exhibits
a world out of kilter, a world of unresolved tensions and polarities, [where] justice is upside down. The sinners are in rebellion against God, and this sin goes unpunished. The righteous ones are oppressed, and their tribulation is not alleviated, nor are their righteous deeds rewarded. The second half of the Woe announcement is that the situation will be remedied – in part. The wicked will be judged for their deeds.[17]

In this way, Jude’s referral to 1 Enoch locates the judgement actions of God as a response to a perceived imbalance of justice.
Justice, specifically against those who portray façades of care for their community (v. 12), is then the reason for God’s coming in judgement. Verse 15 is directed toward such people, wherein the Lord comes “to execute judgement (krisis – impeachment, condemn, judicial decision; cf. v.9) on all and to convict all the ungodly of all their ungodly acts.” Clarifying this, Green states:
To be ‘godless’ or to practice ‘impiety’ was the opposite of being ‘righteous’ and practicing ‘justice.’ This accusation recalls Jude’s principal charge against the heretics, which opened his accusation against these infiltrators (v.4) and is also the topic of this ‘text’ [from Enoch] and the following apostolic prophecy about the heretics (v.18).[18]

Thus the theme of justice that undergirds and ties together Jude’s ideas becomes more apparent. Furthermore, the notion of greed is again apparent in verse 16; “they flatter (thaumazō – regard with admiration, wonder at) others (prosōpon – the face) to gain advantage (ōpheleia – profit).” Here Jude employs a brilliant play of façade, face, and hiding true intent to describe the unjust; the unjust utilize façade, wondering at others (intently looking upon the other’s face), to falsely puff up others for their own selfish, undue gain. Green remarks that the expression “to wonder at” “is quite common in the LXX, meaning either to rightly favour someone…or, more commonly, to show undue partiality, of the kind that may pervert justice.”[19]
Having retold the Old Testament stories, illuminated their relation to issues of justice, and divulged God’s just response, Jude’s letter moves on to his third segment of tying the introduction and the stories together. Jude has been using the refrain “these people” (houtos) to refer to those who are in danger of God’s judgement, so when confronted with two “but you (de hymeis)” statements, in verses 17 and 20, the reader is addressed more directly. These “but you” statements are followed by “dear friends (agapētos),” calling to mind verse 1 where the recipients are identified those “who are loved (agapaō) in God, which reaffirms their identity. The recipients subsequently are charged to remember that “there will be scoffers driven by their own ungodly desires” (v.18), which sums up much of Jude’s critique of the disposition of “these people” heretofore examined.
While it may be pleasant to think of oneself in terms of the beloved, Jude here utilizes an “us and them” binary. It is a binary potentially reeking of xenophobia and self-righteousness. Betsy Bauman-Martin’s investigation into the book of Jude attends to “its understanding of and construction of power structures and social boundaries vis-à-vis the concepts and realities of empire.”[20] She concludes that Jude succumbs to the discourse of empire and “the anti-imperial sources are unabashedly turned into texts that advocate the master-narrative of his community, threatening those on the inside who might cross outside, and those on the outside who have ‘intruded.’”[21] This is a stinging critique in a twenty-first century context in which post-colonial readings cannot simply be dismissed through recourse to traditional readings, but must respond to contemporary contexts that take seriously colonial histories of oppression, racism, sexism, and exploitation.
The xenophobia charged against Jude, due to his use of imperial “us and them” categorizations, is also helpfully abated in our twenty-first century context by reading through Professor McGonagall. She wonderfully offers protection to those outside her clan/tribe/house. For example, when Draco is transfigured into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody (who at that point is actually Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Mad-Eye), Professor McGonagall, who does not particularly like Draco, stops Mad-Eye and lambasts him saying, “we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!”[22] In this instance she protects the “them” as a way of respecting the personhood of each individual. Professor McGonagall’s action helps deconstruct the clear-cut “us and them” posited in Jude’s letter.
The second refrain of “but you dear friends” develops the positive affirmations of the beginning of the letter. The recipients are encouraged in verses 21-23 to
Keep (tēreō – cf. v.1) yourselves in the love (agape) of God as you wait for the mercy (eleos – cf. v.2) of our Lord Jesus Christ to grant you eternal life. And have mercy on (eleaō) some men who are wavering; save (sōzō – cf. v.5) others by snatching them out of the fire (pyr – cf. v.7); and have mercy on (eleaō) others with fear, hating (miseō – regard with ill will) even the garment stained by the flesh.

The intertextuality of this segment recalls words used earlier in the letter to recapitulate the themes of being kept and loved. The agency in this final section, however, switches from the introduction where God calls, loves, and keeps, to humans as the ones who are keeping and showing mercy. Reese comments that this is a somewhat unexpected turn, in that after all the criticism of “these people” the focus and the required action falls to the beloved. “It is the beloved who are expected to act, and their actions are to be directed toward themselves, not toward the other.”[23] Mounce’s[SK2]  translation, however, does not lend itself to such an insular reading, as it directs the beloved’s actions externally, such as saving, snatching from fire, and hating the stained garment. Within this grammatically difficult text the shift in agency acts as a mandate to imitate God’s just action. Jude frames this imitation doxologically:
Now to the one who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in his glorious (doxa) presence without blame and with great joy  to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, belong glory (doxa), majesty, power, and authority, before all time now and for all time. Amen. (v.24-25)

This final section reframes the human imitation as a glorification of God, not as self-sufficiency independent of relationship.
As highlighted above, the letter of Jude develops the character of God as the protector of the beloved. For Jude, God’s saving acts occurred both as protection of the community and judgement against those whose greedy disposition threatens it. These saving acts are preventative of an overreaching greed and façades of care that hide injustice, while enabling each to have “enough,” thereby implementing a just and proper ordering. Finally, the character of God is empowering as agency moves from God to humanity.
In contexts of development and interpersonal relationships “empowerment” is a buzzword used by otherwise disparate approaches. Attempting to clarify how “empowerment” is used contemporarily will assist in understanding Jude’s call to the beloved to imitate God. In the neoliberal theory that dominates the western liberal-democratic discourse a linear unlimited growth is assumed. “Empowerment” in this discourse connotes advancement in an unending upward trajectory, which can be invoked from a hierarchal perspective such as “trickle-down” or from “bottom-up” and “organic” models, all of which rest on the same presuppositions that “all boats can rise.” Alternatively, post-development, sustainable development, and human development theorists challenge this notion of unending growth. Instead they favour of other indicators of wellbeing that take ecology, limitation of the earth, and finitude of individuals seriously. These alternatives draw from feminist and Marxist theory; Uma Kothari notes that these rejections “challenge the dominant, modernist narrative that posits a singular, unilinear trajectory.”[24] Within these discourses of challenge, the language of “empowerment” is also used, as a way of rejecting prescriptive approaches.[25] The use of “empowerment” by both neo-liberal and alternative theories can have an obfuscating affect.
Though “empowerment” is used by various theories of development and theories of persons, it exists in a spectrum that tends towards “hands off” approaches. At one extreme empowerment might be letting someone “pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” as is often advocated for by the International Monetary Fund and its policies of deregulation. At the other extreme it can be a disposition that “we can offer nothing” and “they are unique and already have their own answers,” as often promulgated by advocates of the “noble savage” myth. At either extreme relationship is abandoned. Retention of relationship is therefore a middle way. When Jude puts forward an imitator role for pursuing justice he is validating relationship. Therefore, at either extreme, empowerment does not fit Jude’s call to imitation of God. Professor McGonagall’s protective action is also a middle form of empowerment that understands limitation (contrary to never-ending linear progress) and validates relationship, even when such actions limit the agency of others.
Maggie Smith’s portrayal of Professor McGonagall in the eighth movie casts light on what strong, maternal, protective action might look like. Her actions are in response to Lord Voldemort’s pursuit of dominating, destructive power. She challenges his neoliberal approach to ever-increasing power, his unquenchable greed of wanting more than enough. Ralph Fiennes’ interpretation of Voldemort captures the exuding sexual nature of Voldemort’s lust for power (v.4), specifically his passionate quest for the elder wand and the moment of climax that occurs when he takes it from Dumbledore’s grave. Understanding Voldemort’s actions in a sexual light offers insight into his previous madness caused by his unquenched lust for power that provoked him to split his soul in the first place.[26] This depiction echoes Jude’s use of sexual connotations to describe greedy dispositions that endanger community. In contrast to this masturbatory lust, Professor McGonagall demonstrates an outpouring of protective love.
Probably the most powerful, tear-jerking example of this protection is when Professor McGonagall protects the castle and all the students inside, while Voldemort’s forces approach. She calls “piertotum locomotor,” drawing on her strong power and enlivening the statues and suits of armour. She instructs them, “Hogwarts is threatened! Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!”[27] In so doing she acts on behalf of those in the school, protecting children as part of a battle plan rather than leaving each one to his or her own devices.
As stirring as this scene is, it poses a number of ethical questions similar to those posed by Jude’s exhortation to imitate God. One of which is the question of whether it is ever valid to violate the integrity and autonomy of the individual. In the case of Draco earlier, it was precisely this individuality Professor McGonagall defended. These two accounts can be harmonized through a criterion of intent. I could argue that it was not Draco’s intent to be turned into a ferret, nor was it the intent of those in Hogwarts to die; therefore, Professor McGonagall’s action in both cases was protective of the implied intent of those involved.
However, if I were to take this logic to its conclusion I may find myself justifying the use of military invasions, pre-emptive wars, or any number of coercive actions as measures for the protection of “implied” intent. Thus, ideally a stated intent by those requiring protection would help to clarify and limit occasions when it is acceptable to violate the other’s autonomy through protective action; but neither Jude, nor Professor McGonagall offer examples of such behaviour. In real life such statements are also rare due to limited information and power imbalances that may prevent explicit requests for protection. In cases where there is a power imbalance, such as McGonagall’s protection of the students, or God’s action in the book of Jude, there may be occasions when such protective actions may appear to be the right course of action.
            A potential objection regarding the limits of the analogy is that Professor McGonagall protects children, not those “of age,” and therefore the example cannot extend to relationship between adults.[28] While it is indeed the case that Professor McGonagall protects children, when the analogy is framed in terms of relative power (she has more relative power than the students in terms of magical capability) the analogy may extend beyond communal norms. Being “of age” is nothing more than a communally agreed upon categorization, which is why various ages are deemed acceptable in various contexts. As such, fixed categorizations inevitably blend into spectrums, one of which is relative power. This spectrum understanding is why Professor McGonagall can act as protector for both the students and Professor Trelawney, her peer, since in both situations the relative power difference is such that she has the agency and ability to act as protector.
            Professor McGonagall thus interprets and exemplifies the theocentric vision of Jude, wherein God is caller and keeper of the beloved, and is to be imitated. As such, Jude can be interpreted as text that calls the believer to protective acts of justice, specifically in the face of overreaching and greedy actions. While aspects of the Jude text are problematic, utilizing the cipher of Professor McGonagall assists in crossing the historical and cultural gap to the twenty-first century context where patriarchal and xenophobic oppression ought not to be tolerated, and protective actions require maternal, risky self-giving that at a minimum aligns with the implied intent of those being protected.



[1] In this paper I am not offering a comprehensive biblical theology of just protective actions, nor a universally applicable matrix. Rather, I am developing one line of thinking regarding protective action from the starting place of the book of Jude.

[2] I am using a method similar to that of John D. Caputo; whose technique of “short circuiting” enables him to reach conclusions more quickly. It is not that the text does not support such a readings; rather the application of an intentional lens causes new light to fall on the text revealing fresh insights. John D. Caputo, The Weakness of God: A Theology of the Event (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2006), 12.
[3] Robert L. Webb and Peter H. Davids, “Reading Jude with New Eyes: An Introduction,” in Reading Jude With New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of The Letter of Jude, ed. Robert L. Webb and Peter H. Davids (London: T & T Clark, 2008), 3.

[4] J. K Rowling, “Pottermore,” February 27, 2014, http://www.pottermore.com/en/book1/chapter7/moment1/professor-mcgonagall.

[5] Chris Columbus, Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone, DVD (Warner Bros., 2001).

[6] J. K Rowling, Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone (London: Bloombury, 1997), 178.

[7] David Yates, Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince, DVD (Warner Bros., 2009).

[8] Jude text, Greek transliteration, and translations (unless stated otherwise) are from William D. Mounce and Robert H. Mounce, The Mounce Reverse-Interlinear New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jude+1&version=MOUNCE (accessed February 22, 2014); William D. Mounce, Mounce Concise Greek-English Dictionary of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jude+1&version=MOUNCE (accessed February 22, 2014).

[9] Betsy Bauman-Martin, “Postcolonial Pollution in the Letter of Jude,” in Reading Jude With New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of The Letter of Jude, ed. Robert L. Webb and Peter H. Davids (London: T & T Clark, 2008), 55.

[10] Cf. Gen. 6:1-4.

[11] Gene L. Green, Jude and 2 Peter (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008), 72.

[12] Ruth Anne Reese, “Jude: The Implications of Feminist Reading,” in Feminist Biblical Interpretation: A Compendium of Critical Commentary on The Books of The Bible and Related Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012), 898.

[13] Ibid.

[14] J. K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Vancouver, BC: Raincoast, 2003), 524.

[15] Ibid., 525.

[16] Green, Jude and 2 Peter, 89.

[17] Ibid., 89 n.1.

[18] Ibid., 107.

[19] Ibid., 110.

[20] Bauman-Martin, “Postcolonial Pollution in the Letter of Jude,” 54.

[21] Ibid., 55.

[22] J. K Rowling, Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire (London: Bloomsbury, 2000), 182. Italics original.

[23] Reese, “Jude: The Implications of Feminist Reading,” 902.

[24] Uma Kothari, ed., A Radical History of Development Studies: Individuals, Institutions and Ideologies (New York: Zed Books, 2005), 1.

[25] Ibid., 48.

[26] David Yates, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1, DVD (Warner Bros., 2010).

[27] J. K Rowling, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (London: Bloomsbury, 2007), 484; David Yates, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, DVD (Warner Bros., 2011).

[28] Rowling, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, 483.

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