10

FUN WITH NAMES

The character names are delightful puzzles with hidden spiritual meanings.

I confess to enjoying one aspect of Harry Potter’s magical world more than all the others: the names of the characters. Rowling has said that she collects names for both their sound and their meaning, and no doubt she has made up a few to suit her purposes.

In this, we can see a tip of the hat to Charles Dickens, whose novels are peppered with names rich and often comic, both in the way they strike the ear and in what they reveal about the so-named person.

As much as I love Dickens, I think the names used in Harry Potter are as good as, and more often than not, better than Dickens’s best. Take, for example, the three chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the first four Potter books: Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson.

The Gryffindor team is something of a team of destiny, struggling to win the Quidditch Cup after years of dominance by the Slytherin thugs. The Gryffindors seem to have a higher calling, as suggested by the fact that its chasers’ names are church pieces: spinnet is an organ, bell is what it is, and angelina is a decorative angel, wooden or stone, that was commonplace in older English churches. Olive wood, which is the preferred material for church devotional carvings, is reflected in the Gryffindor House’s “flying chapel.” And who replaces one of the Weasley twins as a Beater in Order of the Phoenix? A boy named Kirke, the German word for church![102]

Not all the names have two or three layers to them. Some are evidently there just to cue us in to the ethnic diversity you’d expect at a twenty-first-century school in the United Kingdom. Cho Chang, Padma and Parvati Patil, Lee Jordan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Seamus Finnegan represent the minority members from the periphery of the old Empire who are rapidly becoming the majority (except for the blue-blooded Finch-Fletchley). Lee Jordan’s name takes on a biblical meaning in Deathly Hallows when his radio alias is given as River Jordan.

Some names, too, are references to historical magical figures and tips of the hat to Rowling’s favorite writers. Minerva McGonagall, Cassandra Vablatsky, and Sibyll Trelawney all have names that point to magical mythology, and Vablatsky is, no doubt, a pointer to the founder of the modern Theosophical Society, Helena Blavatsky.[103]

More fun are the characters from Rowling’s favorite writers. Mrs. Norris, Argus Filch’s peculiar cat, is no stranger to friends of Jane Austen; Mrs. Norris walks on the stage of Mansfield Park with the same aplomb as her feline namesake does at Hogwarts. Robert Louis Stevenson gets a nod or two (Trelawney and Flint are the names of major characters in his adventure novels), the Death Eater Dolokhov echoes Tolstoy, and the Irish representative on campus, Seamus Finnegan, is a probable pointer to the egghead pick for greatest novelist of the twentieth century, James Joyce, and echoes his Finnegan’s Wake.

My favorite literary reference is to C. S. Lewis. Paul Ford in his Companion to Narnia explains that the Digory Kirke character in the Narnia novels, the professor who has been to Narnia and who hosts the Pevensie children during the blitz, is a combination of Lewis’s tutor, Kirkpatrick, and Lewis himself. Certainly much has been made of the parallel between Lewis and Kirke in their having had sick mothers and providing a safe house for children during the war.

The first Hogwarts champion chosen for the Triwizard Tournament is Hufflepuff House’s Cedric Diggory. Harry and Cedric can’t be said to be chums (they both have eyes for Cho Chang, for instance), but they help each other through the tournament and in the final trial agree to a tie. Unfortunately, this results in Cedric’s death at Voldemort’s command.

I believe Cedric Diggory and Digory Kirke are meant to be a match in assonance and meaning. No doubt Lewis would have been a Hufflepuff champion —and I believe Dumbledore’s command in eulogy to “Remember Cedric Diggory!” is a celebration of the great Christian artist and apologist C. S. Lewis.

Sometimes a character’s name tells us what animagus form he or she takes. Rita Skeeter, if not a mosquito, is an insect animagus. The late Sirius Black’s first name is the word for the “dog star,” and his surname points to his ability to change himself into a big black dog. That Sirius was given to depression and self-pity is also suggested; his name can be pronounced as “Serious Black.”

Remus Lupin is not an animagus whose transfigurations are benign or self-chosen, but his name, too, tells us what he changes into at the full moon. Remus was one of the founders of Rome who was said to have been raised by a wolf, and lupine is the English word for “like a wolf.” No surprise, then, when Lupin turns out to be a werewolf.

Albus Dumbledore’s name may also fit into this category. We were not told even in the series finale what animagus form this former Master of Transfigurations takes, but there are several clues that he is the tawny owl at the opening of Philosopher’s Stone and Prisoner of Azkaban. However, if his name is the indicator of his animal shape, then he must be a white or albino bumblebee because this is what Albus Dumbledore literally means.

In chapter 4 we discussed the names with alchemical significance. Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, and Rubeus Hagrid have names that correspond with the black, white, and red stages of the Great Work. Hermione’s first and last names point to her as a budding alchemist; Hermione is the feminine form of “Hermes,” not only Mercury on Mount Olympus but also the first great alchemist in Egypt, and Granger can mean “farmer.” Farming and alchemy are linked because some think that alchemy comes from the Egyptian words for “black earth,” referring to the floodplains of Egypt that could be tilled successfully. (Her initials, too, are the periodic table abbreviation for chemical mercury.)

James and Lily Potter, too, have names with alchemical meaning. Saint James is the traditional patron saint of alchemists, and both Lily and Luna Lovegood have first names that are used as symbols to represent the second, or white, stage of the transformation process.

Why bother studying the meanings of these names? Beyond just the fun of solving a puzzle, I think there are at least two reasons to play the name game: for insights into the character and for a deeper understanding of the story’s meaning.

I enjoy playing with the names to see if I can tease out something about what sort of person would carry such a name. Here are a few of my reflections:

• SEVERUS SNAPE: I thought that Snape was a “cutting” personality because his first and last name both seem to be conjugate forms for severing or snipping. However, I read in the Rev. Francis Bridger’s A Charmed Life that snape is “an English word meaning ‘chide’ or ‘rebuke,’ ” and hence the whole name means “severe rebuke,” an activity for which Snape is well known.[104] Those who believe that Snape is a half vampire, of course, think that the name should be pronounced “sever his nape.” But vampires bite the neck; they don’t cut it off. The name is a hint, it turns out, for Severus’s gruesome death in the Shrieking Shack in the coils and teeth of Nagini.[105]
• PETER PETTIGREW: I have read the strangest interpretations of what Peter’s name may mean (many in my Barnes and Noble University classroom in response to my own thoughts). My favorite was from a young woman who understood the name to mean “betrayer —pet who grew.” Peter, she explained, was the apostle who betrayed Christ, just like Pettigrew betrayed the Potters. “Pet who grew” she felt was an undeniable allusion to what Scabbers did in the Shrieking Shack in Prisoner of Azkaban.

  Neat thinking —but unlikely (although I enjoy “pet who grew”). Judas, after all, betrayed Christ, not Peter. I think it is more likely that with his name Rowling is pointing to Peter’s failings in masculine virtue because both his name (“Peter didn’t grow very big”) and nickname (“Wormtail”) suggest he lacks a full package. She has already made him become a rat animagus; the name should suggest something nasty about this coward and turncoat who betrayed his friends to Voldemort.

• THE WEASLEYS: Everyone loves the literally poor Weasleys. Fred and George are a riot, Ron is the best friend you could want, Ginny is fun, Arthur and Molly are believable and endearing as the struggling parents of a big family with a small income, Bill and Charlie have played their cameo parts well, and Percy . . . well, every family has its black sheep.

  But what’s with that last name? The first names are all heroic and larger-than-life —kings, martial saints, and renowned knights all —but “like a weasel”? What’s the deal?

  And it’s not just the name. The Weasleys live at “The Burrow,” which is just outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. It seems as if all indicators are pointing to their being like weasels. A little reflection, I think, brings out an important point.

  Mr. Weasley, who works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, is a notorious misuser of Muggle artifacts. As Ron tells Harry in Chamber of Secrets, “If he raided our house, he’d have to put himself under arrest.”[106] Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny have a remarkable ability to think rules are for others —and even pompous Percy thinks that privilege of place means being above the law (note his defenses of Crouch in Goblet of Fire). The Weasleys are more than a little weaselly, truth be told —and their sensitivity to any use of the word “weasel” reflects this.

  More sympathetically, the weasel is one of Rowling’s favorite animals. They’re team players and are ferociously loyal, according to legend. Of course, the weasel’s taste for rats and mice endears them to some, and they are famous for fearlessly taking on animals several times their size.

  One source I found even says that weasels are the only animals that can kill the dreaded basilisk, though they die sacrificially in this effort. Because of the link in the popular mind of the basilisk/cockatrice with the devil, the weasels’ sacrifice to save others has made them a popular symbol of Christ. A great name for these bold, redheaded fighters![107]

• ARGUS FILCH: The Squib caretaker at Hogwarts is named for the watchman in Greek mythology who watches the gates of Hell. (That Argus had a thousand eyes is a nice help for a watchman.) Filch, which means “to steal,” suggests both “filth” and “petty thievery.”

  So we’re left with a contradiction, or at least an unhealthy situation: “a thieving watchman” or “a caretaker with sticky fingers.” Filch is neither wizard nor Muggle and is treated disdainfully by everyone except Dumbledore (and Dolores Umbridge, whose sadism he shares).

  Filch’s name compelled many of us to watch him for all seven books as a potential turncoat to Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Though they have no love for his kind, my thought was that they would use the castoffs and neglected members of the magical world for their own ends (as they did Kreacher). I guess he was too happy in Deathly Hallows at the Death Eater–dominated Hogwarts to move on to serve the Dark Lord himself.

• NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM: Neville’s name points both to his “nobody” status and to his eventual heroism. Neville breaks down to ne, meaning “no” or “not,” and ville, “villa” or “village,” for a sum of “noplace” or “nowhere.” Longbottom gives us long, “big in size or duration in time,” and bottom, “lowest place,” for a composite of either “big buttocks” or “long time at bottom of heap.” Every day Neville answers to a name meaning “nowhere-man big-bottom/low-caste.” How appropriate that Harry tells Stan Shunpike while hiding on the Knight Bus that his name is Neville Longbottom.[108] Besides pointing to Harry’s shared destiny with Neville, it’s a great name for an unassuming alias.

  Neville, however, becomes a man to be dealt with in Order of the Phoenix. He works harder than anyone else in D.A. class and more than acquits himself in the battle with the Death Eaters under the Ministry of Magic at book’s end. He saves Harry more than once, and if the prophecy was destroyed, it wasn’t for lack of heroic effort and sacrifice on Neville’s part. As we’ll see in chapter 17, Neville becomes Rowling’s model Christian who serves while waiting for the Lord’s return.

  How do we get that from “Nowhere Big-Butt”? Well, Neville’s name also translates to “new city,” as in the new Jerusalem Christians anticipate at the Second Coming. And bottom is an English euphemism for strength, endurance, and courage. Being “long bottom” means you will endure to the end in faith, which heroic Neville certainly does.

  Remember that it is Neville’s courage in Philosopher’s Stone that defeats the Slytherins at book’s end; this foreshadows the end of Deathly Hallows, in which “the last will be first.” Mr. Nowhere-Man turns out to be a “true Gryffindor” in Harry’s image, a hero equal to pulling the sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat and destroying Voldemort’s last Horcrux.

I could go on and on (what do you mean, I have already?). I’d love to tell you about Dolores Umbridge and what “grievous shadow” means as a name for the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. How about Mundungus Fletcher? (“World-filth Arrow-maker!”) Pius Thicknesse?

Okay, enough fun for now. Let’s get to the names of the major players and see what they tell us about this story and the Great Story.

Dumbledore/Voldemort

Albus Dumbledore, as noted above, has a name that means “white, glorious, resplendent” and “bee.” The bee is a traditional symbol for the soul (bees move in clouds that struck many as a visible sign of how the Spirit “bloweth where it listeth” [John 3:8, KJV]). No surprise to find that the champion of all magical creatures, witches, wizards, and Muggles against the madness of the Death Eaters has a name pointing to his sanctity; “resplendent soul” recalls the light of Mt. Tabor (Matthew 17:1-9).

We’ve already examined Tom Marvolo Riddle. The birth name of the Dark Lord (whose letters can be rearranged to spell “I am Lord Voldemort”) tells us his life is about his solving the “riddle” of his “twin” nature (Thomas is Aramaic for “twin”). Because he denies his being double-natured —a fallen human yet made in the image of God —he takes on the name Lord Voldemort, which can be interpreted as “willing death,” “flight of death,” or “flight from death.” He imagines himself both as an angel of death and as an immortal who has escaped from death.

His exaggerated pride and the denial of both his humanity and access to divinity cause the birth of his vanquisher, who is his doppelgänger (“one in nature, two in essence”). But I’m getting ahead of myself. The names confirm what we learned about Riddle/Voldemort in chapter 5 on doppelgängers.

Potter/Malfoy

The wicked family in Harry Potter is the Malfoy clan. The father’s name is Lucius, and the mother is Narcissa. Their little boy, the darling of Slytherin House, is Draco —the Latin word for “dragon” or “serpent.” The serpent is a traditional Christian symbol for the devil, because the Evil One takes the form of a snake in the Garden of Eden. C. S. Lewis, in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, depicts a really nasty little boy (much like Draco) named Eustace Scrubb, who turns into a dragon. Lucius, Draco’s daddy, is perfectly wicked. He mistreats his servants, patronizes everyone because of his “pure blood” and wealth, and is rather impatient and nasty to his own boy. He gives Riddle’s diary to Ginny Weasley, which almost results in more than a few deaths. In Goblet of Fire he reveals himself as a Death Eater and a servant of Lord Voldemort, and in Order of the Phoenix he is the leader of the bad guys in the battle for the prophecy.

That is no surprise if you look at his name. Lucius suggests “Lucifer,” which means “light carrier” in Latin. The angel named Lucifer turned on God and became the devil, or Satan (“the deceiver”). Like his son, Lucius Malfoy has a satanic name.

Mom Malfoy’s name is not another name for the devil, but it’s pretty bad. Narcissus is a young man in Greek mythology who was very aware of his own good looks. He thought so much of himself that he rejected the love of the nymph Echo. He spent so much time admiring his reflection in a pond that some stories say he drowned, and better ones say he became the beautiful narcissus plant. A narcissist, consequently, is anyone of self-importance and ego (usually a self-loving monster). Narcissa is not a nice name —and it has enough sibilants in it that you sound like a snake saying it. (In terms of the doppelgänger apposition of so many characters, it is worth noting that the narcissus flower is of the same family as the lily.)

But the worst part of being a Malfoy is that last name. It is French for “bad faith” or “faith in evil.” This can mean anything from “untrustworthy” to “Satan worshipper.” I might move if the family next door was named “bad faith”! All the Malfoys are branded as black hats by their first and last names.

Let’s look at the names for the good guys, by whom I mean the Potters. Harry Potter’s late parents were named James and Lily. These have meanings over and above the few mentioned previously, as you’ve probably guessed —meanings quite different from the Malfoys’ names. James, for instance, is the name of Christ’s disciple who was also his brother. This brother was the only sibling to recognize Christ as the Messiah; he became (after the Resurrection, Ascension, and Pentecost) the first bishop of Jerusalem and the man in charge at the council recorded in Acts 15.

You may not be familiar with this connection between James and Christ, but be sure that the English are. Ambassadors from foreign countries to the British government are said to be going to the Court of Saint James; another name for the British royal court contains “Saint James.” The name resonates with royalty, and through Saint James and the divine right of kings, with divinity.

Lily was the name of Harry’s green-eyed mother. Lilies are magnificent, showy flowers of various colors and usually have a trumpet shape. They are symbolic of spring, though many people associate this flower with death; a white lily is often put in a corpse’s hands before the funeral. This is done because the lily, as a symbol of spring, is also the flower of the Annunciation, the Resurrection, and the promise of Christ’s return. Corpses are given a lily in hope of their resurrection with Christ at his second coming. Lily, then, like James, is a name with strong ties to Christianity.[109]

Which leaves us with Harry Potter. What does Harry’s name mean?

Before beginning this discussion, it’s best to acknowledge that Harry Potter, because of the worldwide success of this series, is a brand name in millions of people’s minds, much like Mickey Mouse, Coca-Cola, or Apple computers. In this Potter-mania environment in which we live, it is difficult to assert that the names mean anything, because to most it has been a long time since the names were restricted to the boy wizard in these books rather than the social phenomenon his name also describes.

Also working against the assignment of any meaning to the name Harry Potter is that the name is not at all unusual. Unlike Severus Snape or Millicent Bulstrode, you may actually know a Harry Potter.[110]

I am frequently reminded, too, that Rowling has been asked where Harry’s name came from and she has answered, “I got the name Potter from people who lived down the road from me in Winterbourne. . . . I liked the surname so I took it.”[111] Please note, though, that this answer doesn’t explain why she liked it more than the other names of the people on the street or why she thought it fit Harry. It’s not a little bit like when she was asked about King’s Cross and why Harry imagines himself there after his sacrifice in Deathly Hallows.

KATIE B.: Why was King’s Cross the place Harry went to when he died?

J. K. ROWLING: For many reasons. The name works rather well, and it has been established in the books as the gateway between two worlds, and Harry would associate it with moving on between two worlds (don’t forget that it is Harry’s image we see, not necessarily what is really there.)[112]

The fact that “the name works rather well” doesn’t spell out the obvious connection between Calvary and the action of the story at that point, and Rowling adds a distracting point to end the discussion. Are we supposed to think that because she chooses not to explain in detail what in other places she calls the “obvious” Christian content of her stories there is no greater meaning of King’s Cross or Harry Potter than Rowling’s fancy?[113]

Hardly. I think it’s silly to believe that the principal player in the series, a series written by an author clearly fascinated with getting names just right on several levels of meaning, would have a meaningless name. Common sense seems to demand the name be picked over pretty closely by readers wanting to understand the meaning and consequent popularity of these best-selling books. Let’s take a look.

Harry Potter: The Name

Harry can literally mean “to harass, annoy, or disturb.” Usually someone described as “harried” is run down by too much work and too many distractions. I don’t think that’s what our Harry’s name is meant to imply, even though he does lead an exciting life and, in Order of the Phoenix, several times seems on the edge of a breakdown.

Harry is also the familiar form of the names Henry and Harold. More than one Shakespeare play is about Henry IV —when he was the Prince of Wales, during his wild life with Falstaff before becoming king, and his heroic life thereafter. More than a few critics have suggested this is a pointer to Harry’s destiny as Voldemort’s vanquisher and the savior of the magical world.

As important is that Harold is consonant with the word herald. Harry may be the herald of something new and better. Put that thought on the shelf for a minute; it might be worth looking at again after this survey of all the possibilities.

There is something better though. As much as I like “herald,” I believe that the Cockney and French pronunciations of Harry’s name tell us what his first name means. These pronunciations are made without aspirating or breathing through the h. Instead of pronouncing the name as if you were saying he was covered with hair, say it as if you were calling him an airhead: “airy.” ’Arry with a long a suggests the word heir.

The heir is the person who stands to get what someone —usually a parent —will leave behind at death. It is usually used to describe someone who will inherit a great deal of money or a position. A prince, for example, is heir to the king’s throne. When the king dies, the prince gets the throne and becomes king.

If Harry means “heir-y,” then what is our Harry “heir to” or “son of”? Perhaps this is another pointer to Harry’s being Heir of Gryffindor. His name, after all, is not just Harry Potter but Harry James Potter. Certainly we are told again and again about Harry’s likeness to his biological father.

This may very well be the case. A close look at the name Potter, though, points to a larger inheritance than just Harry’s biological father’s wealth and bloodline. For this job you might want to get a Bible concordance.

Looking up potter in the concordance, we find references to it in the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Zechariah, the book of Lamentations, Saint Paul’s letter to the Romans, and in the book of Revelation.

Because Tupperware wasn’t available in biblical times, it shouldn’t be surprising to find mention of potters in Scripture. Pots held everything not kept in baskets. But to what are these Bible references alluding when they mention potter? Do they mean human potters?

When Bible scholars cite these “potter” passages, they often refer to God’s creation of man as recorded by the prophet Moses. “And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7, KJV).

Other Scripture passages refer to human potters. But even then, they point to the potter’s craft of shaping a vessel to indicate God’s activity in shaping us as creations in his image. Let’s look at a couple of these “potter” references to see what I mean.

In Isaiah 64:8, the prophet says, “But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand” (KJV).

Jeremiah says, “Then the word of the LORD came to me, saying, O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the LORD. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel” (Jeremiah 18:5-6, KJV).

Paul rebukes the stiff-necked Romans by writing, “Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?” (Romans 9:20-21, KJV).

God is thought of as a potter, from the beginning of the Bible to the Epistles. Is there any reason to think this biblical usage survives to our times? Yes, there are abundant reasons to believe that.

Today, Orthodox Christians claim that they worship God in the same way the apostles did, keep the same feasts and fasts, and say prayers that have been said by holy men for centuries. During Great Lent, the time of special prayers and fasting to prepare for the celebration of Christ’s Resurrection (they call it Pascha rather than the druid word Easter), the Great Canon of Saint Andrew is recited.

These prayers, said around the world by Orthodox Christians, call on God in repentance for their sins. One of these prayers says, “In molding my life into clay, O Potter, Thou didst put into me flesh and bones, flesh and vitality. But, O my Creator, my Redeemer and Judge, accept me who repent” (Canon of Saint Andrew 1:10). Potter is here the equivalent of Creator, Redeemer, and Judge in referring to God.

Remember that J. K. Rowling, besides being a member of the Scottish Episcopal Church, studied Latin from her earliest years and at the University of Exeter. As is evident in the books’ spells, Latin is almost Rowling’s second language. With this in mind, it is meaningful to see that the word potter is pronounced exactly as is the Latin word for father (pater). This word, like the English word father, is used for both biological father and “Father which art in heaven” (Matthew 6:9, KJV). The most famous prayer in the Western Church is the “Our Father,” which until the Second Vatican Council’s liturgical reforms (not implemented until the late sixties) was said by the world’s Roman Catholics as the “Pater Noster” —and of course many millions still do in private devotions. Harry’s last name, deciphered, is both “God” from biblical usage and “Father” from the Latin.

Harry’s name, then, taken altogether, means that he is an heir to God the Father (Pater/Potter) or a herald of the same. I rush to say this does not mean Rowling is necessarily offering Harry as a symbol of Christ, or as the Antichrist, or even as an allegorical Christ (which is how some people view C. S. Lewis’s Aslan). Rowling has said that Harry is not even a saint, so we know he is not the Son of God as Christians believe Jesus Christ is, but in the manner that you and I and everybody are sons of God. Harry is the fallen man seeking to be both image and likeness of God. He is fallen, but he is a seeker (see Matthew 7:7).

Saint Athanasios the Great, a hero and confessor of the early Church, said that God became man that man might become God. Athanasios, who stood before the Aryan onslaught for the truth, believed that by means of his Incarnation, sinless life, and Resurrection from the dead, Christ made it possible for human beings to share in his Resurrection and become “little Christs within Christ” (a phrase attributed to Saint John Chrysostom). Man seeking God succeeds in Christ.

That Harry is given a name that means “heir,” “herald,” or even “son of God” points us to what the saints have taught for two thousand years. We are to love God, not in fear as slaves or in hollow obedience as servants, but as dutiful sons created in his image, who live in joyous expectation of our inheritance —at our death, if not before.[114] Harry Potter as “son of God” is not a symbol of Jesus Christ, but of humanity pursuing its spiritual perfection in Christ. Harry Potter is Everyman, hoping to live as God’s image and likeness, now and in joy for eternity. Harry certainly rises from the dead at the end of Deathly Hallows as a symbol or type of Christ and his Resurrection, but the parallel readers are meant to draw is less about Harry being an allegorical Christ stand-in than an example of the power of faith and love in overcoming interior and real world evils (more on this in chapter 17).

The review of the Harry Potter books that we have made so far in these first ten chapters, looking at the structures, themes, predominant symbolism, even the names of the principal characters, indicates that they have a transcendent or spiritual meaning with strong Christian echoes throughout. In the second part of How Harry Cast His Spell, we’ll take a quick look at each Harry Potter novel for its individual meaning. I doubt, after what you have read so far, that you will be surprised to learn they are profound, edifying morality tales that point to love and life in the Spirit as the answer to human mysteries.