The Life and Lies of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Irvin Khaytman (reading books for 4 year olds .TXT) 📖

Neville has grown up with his formidable grandmother, who always stood by Dumbledore (“[Augusta] says it’s the Daily Prophet that’s going downhill, not Dumbledore. [. . .] She says if Dumbledore says he’s back, he’s back.” OP219). Judging by his reaction in the Department of Mysteries (“’Dubbledore!’ said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported” OP805), Dumbledore meant a lot to him. His Gran would no doubt dismiss all of Rita Skeeter’s lies out of hand. But Neville is also someone who has changed a lot from his youth. It would not seem so outlandish to him that Dumbledore could have changed as well.

And then there’s Ginny, who would identify with a young Dumbledore more than most. Recall that she too, in her youth, was seduced by a charismatic Dark wizard. She, too, was party to atrocities committed by said Dark wizard; she was just lucky that no one died. And when the truth was revealed, when she was sure she would be expelled, Dumbledore showed mercy. He comforted her, forgave her, and gave her a second chance to turn into the formidable witch she became. If he gave her a second chance, why should she begrudge him one?

In Doge’s obituary, he says Dumbledore was “to his last hour, as willing to stretch out a hand to a small boy with dragon pox as he was on the day that I met him.” (DH20) On the one hand, we know that was not necessarily always true. Dumbledore was remote from his students, and he rarely extended a hand to Slytherins. However, when he didn’t have to make choices affecting the entire wizarding world, and when Slytherins weren’t involved, he was kind and caring. He showed mercy to a young Ginny, he delicately protected Neville. And now he is rewarded by the faith of his former students; the name “Dumbledore’s Army” will prove to be a much more enduring legacy than Rita Skeeter’s book.

And the students’ loyalty is rewarded by Hogwarts itself, which creates a passage from the Room of Requirement to Aberforth’s quarters above the Hog’s Head. On the surface, this is purely to satisfy the students’ need for food. But it could be that the Room of Requirement anticipated what Aberforth needed—to regain hope—and multitasked by creating the passage specifically to his bar.

It’s very notable how exactly this passage works: it is hidden behind a portrait of Ariana Dumbledore, who goes to fetch Neville when the Trio shows up. It’s kind of perfect that Dumbledore’s Army will go through a Dumbledore (a DumbleDOOR, if you will) to a Dumbledore; and a Dumbledore will keep Dumbledore’s Army thriving.

This is a masterclass in symbolism: Ariana Dumbledore serves as the go-between for Aberforth Dumbledore and [Albus] Dumbledore’s Army. Her death tore the brothers apart; her memory is what brings them together.

Password?

Harry ran without stopping, clutching the crystal flask of Snape’s last thoughts, and he did not slow down until he reached the stone gargoyle guarding the headmaster’s office.

“Password?”

“Dumbledore!” said Harry without thinking, because it was he whom he yearned to see, and to his surprise the gargoyle slid aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind. (DH662)

There are two potential explanations for the password being “Dumbledore,” and both are a powerful statement about Dumbledore’s legacy.

The first, recently espoused by Lorrie Kim,  is that this password was chosen deliberately by Snape to honor Dumbledore. This is a nice sentiment, and is certainly possible. That said, it seems too high a risk for Snape to take as a purely symbolic gesture. The password to the headmaster’s office has to be something that can be revealed to people—students and faculty—who may need to meet with the headmaster. Obviously, having the password be “Dumbledore” won’t work if the Carrows have a question for Headmaster Snape.

So the implication is that Snape created a second secret password, “Dumbledore,” pretty much solely for sentimental reasons. This seems most unlike Snape: the risk is too high that someone would shout “Dumbledore” outside his office, and the payoff of such a symbolic gesture is too small.

Far more likely, in my opinion, is that it is the stone gargoyle that accepted Dumbledore’s name as a password. We know that parts of Hogwarts have some sentience: the Room of Requirement (as mentioned earlier), and the front doors (whom Flitwick teaches to recognize Sirius Black, PA269). I think the gargoyle, who has been guarding Dumbledore’s office for forty years,52 grew quite fond of Dumbledore.

As an aside, we don’t know whether it was the gargoyle or Dumbledore himself who was responsible for frustrating Umbridge in OotP: “Couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Head's office has sealed itself against her.” (OP625) On the one hand, it would be in character for the gargoyle to keep Umbridge out if it really is that appreciative of Dumbledore. On the other hand, it was also be in character for Dumbledore himself to seal the Head’s office against Umbridge to spite her. Either explanation makes me happy.

But back to Deathly Hallows: the fact that the gargoyle accepts “Dumbledore!” as an override of its security protocols speaks to Dumbledore’s legacy in the eyes of Hogwarts itself. In the Battle of Hogwarts, Dumbledore’s Army is a crucial part of the “Hogwartians.” And like its defenders, Hogwarts has immense respect for Dumbledore when all is said and done.

Epilogue:

Judging Dumbledore

“Well, of course, Dumbledore is a biographer’s dream,” Rita Skeeter says (DH23), and indeed he has been. We have now reached the end of the series, and there are several takeaways from viewing the Harry Potter books through this lens. Dumbledore is not omniscient—every instance where he seems to be, we can explain his reasoning in the moment. Dumbledore likes being in control and uses his knowledge of Lord Voldemort to manipulate his foe. Dumbledore is usually meticulous, thinking through the details and planning things years in advance. There is always some bigger picture going on just off the pages of the books, usually involving