Nobody’s perfect, am I right? But I love her despite her imperfections, which is the whole power of love in the first place.
Kidding, of course. I get that I’m on the outside looking in when it comes to the Harry Potter empire. And it’s not like I don’t see why it’s great, just…well…two things. First, I’m a contrarian at heart. Have been since I was a kid, and have just come to accept that it’s a part of my nature in this life. I’m not sure why or where it started, but alas, The Dude abides. I see a massive crowd all headed west, my first inclination is to look east to see what we might be missing.
And secondly – this is the one that’s likely to get me in trouble, but – have you ever had a work of art, well, ruined by an overzealous fandom? Like, the show, movie, book, or whatever else might be perfectly fine, but being surrounded by fans, opinions, theories, toys, t-shirts, bags, Pop! vinyls, tattoos, baby names and everything else ALL dedicated to a particular franchise it just becomes a bit…much.
So like I said, I realize that I’m on the outside looking in on this one; but I try not to beat myself up too much. I’ve seen the movies, read the first couple of books (mostly), and feel like I get it. It’s just that the hype by hardcore fans haven’t just set the bar high, they’ve set the bar through the stratosphere.
Now, all that being said, I had a Harry Potter-themed dream last night, and really, I’m left feeling justified in that I know enough about the series, given how informed my dream was.
Something like this…
I’m standing in a dark, damp space. I realize after a few moments, not knowing how I came to be there, that I’m with two others who are in a panic and we’re not standing but running through a traffic tunnel. It’s late at night, but there are dim lights just above the sidewalks on either side and street lamps at either end.
I don’t recognize one of my companions, but I know the other to be Professor Lupin, fresh into his role as master of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He’s hurriedly covering and escorting our faceless companion as ominous organ music swells. Behind them I see fast approaching is a ghostly, horrifying Dementor. I get myself between the Dementor and my friends, draw out a wand I didn’t realize I apparently carried with me, and with a powerful breath and burst of will shout, “Expelliarmus!”
My Patronus doesn’t materialize, but the Dementor gets stunned a bit like it just got a cobweb stuck on its face. So I cry again, “Expelliarmus!” The same thing happens, the Dementor doesn’t quit its pursuit but reacts like it just got gently th’whacked. Frustration mounting at my failure to conjure a Patronus, I continue to call out, “Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!” And while I fail to banish the Dementor, I harass it enough until Lupine and our friend have made fair escape to safety. Once I see they’ve made it clear, I throw my hands down at my sides to try something new.
“Okay, hey!” I shout. “What the hell? Can we talk about this?”
And like I’m sure it NEVER happened in the books or movies, the Dementor stops. In a voice somewhere between Nick Cage and Paul Giamatti says, “Uh, sure. The heck was all that?” It stops to flail and pantomime my wand-waving.
“You know, I’m not really all that sure. I just thought it was what I was supposed to do.”
“Well it was weird, and a bit rude.”
“Sorry, kind of. Can…can I go now? Or are you going to follow us?”
With what I think was a sort of shrug and a sigh, it waves me off.
When I woke up, I went into the kitchen to tell my fiance about the dream, which got a bit of a chuckle, especially when I mentioned that I couldn’t summon my damned Patronus. But now conscious, I realized my mistake: I wasn’t fueling the spell with a happy memory like you’re supposed to. Instead, I was just pumping the effort full of as much unbridled optimism as I could muster. I told her my mistake, and she just kept chuckling, which is when I realized the second part to my mistake – I was using the whole wrong damn spell in the first place. “Expecto Patronum” is for pushing away Dementors, “Expelliarmus” is for disarming fellow wizards.
What a doof.
Really though, I’m proud of my subconscious Potter knowledge for filling in the gaps despite my mistake. The way I figure it, I WAS disarming the Dementor of its usual weapon: that soul-sucky breath thing. Every time I hit it with Expelliarmus, I was making it cough, technically.
I grant free license to any ambitious Potter nerd out there that wants to use this as an element in their fan fiction.
Just send me a copy, cause that sh*t’s funny.
Ciao for now, y’all.