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And then, he got to choose whether to live or die, in the King's Cross chapter. King's Cross being the place between life and death in Harry's head, just like the real train station was the place for him between the Muggles and the wizards' world. And the places where the books started and ended, for so long. He chose to live. He chose life as the *harder* option of the two, the one with pain and fighting and the possibility of failure and lack of peace. So in another reflection and circle closing, he was neither dead nor alive, like Voldemort was for most of the books, but in a completely opposite way. And he chose what Voldemort tried to create for himself all along. But he could only do this through his willingness to die, and only through the hardships of life, not the fear of death. The acceptance of them both.

And in a heartbreaking image (and, oh, JKR is such a master of those images. She does what resonates most with me, in books - creates these powerful vivid can't-get-out-of-my-head images, that speak with something that isn't words or music or anything that I can explain, just live in my head and - oh, I'm not even going to try. I don't know to use words cleverly enough to express myself. It's not the English, of course. It's me). That baby, without skin, completely open to the world (the exact opposite of what Voldemort was trying to do all that time), feeling all the pain and the suffering. And can't be consoled. Voldemort refused to get any sort of comfort, of human connection, of love. And now he's bound to shiver, unable to receive any of those, anything that can help him, for all time. He got exactly what he fought so hard to get, what he sealed himself so tightly to enable, and that exactly in his punishment.

Oh, and in another circle closing, that child, or baby, crying all alone in a deserted train station, was a reflection of another baby, left alone at his parent's ruined house, crying and seemingly unprotected. Of course, they're as opposite as they can be, because Harry was protected exactly by being left alone, with his mother's sacrifice, and Voldemort was the one who cut, himself, all his cords to the world, but still. And, oh, that image. Sigh.

Oh, and it reminds me of something else I really liked about the whole series, which was especially noreworthy in this book: how it was not like the classics, in the old-and-wise-guys sense. We never knew Gandalf's past, he was able to resist all temptations (even by asking Frodo not to test him, but still). Aslan was never a cub, never made any mistakes, and when he sacrificed himself, unlike Harry, he had a notion of what may happen. And yet, we got the teenaged Dumbledore, he made mistakes, he was arrogant, he carried his weakness to his old age, to the time in which we already knew him and saw him, just like Harry, as that pillar of wisdom and strength. And he, too, was human.

So, yeah, he managed to take his flaw and failed hope and use it for the greater good, he managed to choose, much like Harry did, Horcruxes upon Hallows, to try and have the Elder Wand rest, to beat his old friend and spare his life and enable him to try and make amends. But he was still flawed, and they were still mistakes.

He had that younger brother who seemed the lesser man and turned out to not only save the day and be a great source of help, a soldier in that same fight, but also the one who understood from the start what the brilliant Albus had to practically die in order to learn. Not only wasn't Dumbledore perfect, he also failed to see what was right in front of his eyes, what his brother told him all along.

And it wasn't just in the character of Dumbledore, who in the earlier books appeared as this great white figure, to save Harry when he needed, to save the day. It's not just this growing-up of finding out that the other grown-ups around us are people justlike us, with practically very similar flaws and aches, who can't, sometimes, make it all better with a flick of a wand (it reminds me of the end of the Prydain series, its first book and its last one, and how it was all so very different for Taran, just like it was for Harry).

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It happened with the stories themselves, in this book. Already in "Chamber of Secrets", with the chamber itself, and in "Prisoner of Azkaban", with the story of what Sirius did or didn't do, but mostly in "Deathly Hallows". The way secrets and legends from the past, from books and songs and myth, become not just real, with objects that people can touch and use, but also create new legends, in their turn, Harry's and Ron's and Hermione's. And I don't just mean the legends that we read and that I babble about for what I'm afraid to look back and see how long.

I mean the legends inside the story. The way things that are supposed to be merely ideas and far-off and inspiring become actual objects to hold and actual wands to break their strengths and actual stones that may be used to bring back the dead, bring them wrong, and break your heart, or change their purpose. The stories develop, unfold and change themselves, and this time without the veil of mystery and distance of the past. A different awe? I'm not sure, yet again, that I manage to explain myself. Oh, well.

Um, and if I may be so bold and refer to something that *I* personally wanted to find in the book, the trust that Harry would have to put in a person, the way of Dumbledore, that appeal to the best of a person, to believing that they can, indeed, act upon that best, regardless of the worst that is consuming them. I hoped that Harry would have to trust Snape. But in the book, it was so much better than this. JKR took this point and raised it, in my eyes, to a whole different level.

She didn't make Harry choose whether to trust Snape. She made Harry choose whether to trust Dumbledore. Which was brilliant! Taking the one character who had his faith without any reservations - Harry led "Dumbledore's Army" in "Order of the Phoenix", he kept saying how he's Dumbledore's man, through and through, and then, to crack this faith, to take the idol down, to make him human - not just as a teenager, Harry's age (as Harry kept repeating), but as the old, wise, father-figure he has been to Harry all these years.

And Harry really had to struggle with this inner conflict. He didn't have definite answers - and he didn't have them when he decided, too. He chose to *trust*, not to take a clear path of proof. He kept wishing for a final way of reassuring himself, kept not finding one. And still, he chose. Just like Dumbledore himself, in a way. Just like people not-in-stories have to do, all the time.

Oh, and my heart froze, for a minute, when Dumbledore was talking so matter-of-fact-ly with Snape regarding Harry's inevitable death. Was he so cold-hearted? Was he just keeping this boy alive as a weapon, as a tool, as something that needed to be killed at a specific moment and not beforehand? Frankly, I don't believe it. And if that makes me a naive fool who chooses to put her faith in somebody who doesn't deserve it (yeah, fictional, I know), then so be it. Just like he taught, I rather trust somebody's best qualities, rather than turn to their worst.

Just like Harry choosing (there's that word again) his own death, which was what made all the difference, sometimes it's not the act itself that matters, but what's behind it. And I don't believe that what was behind all of Dumbledore's acts towards Harry was a cold-blooded calculation. I think he loved the boy, and the man he became. I think he really wanted to prevent all harm from him. I think he made mistakes (he himself was sorry for them, talked about them), but I also think that he meant all the possible well he could.

Even if he sounded so matter-of-factly cold when talking to Snape, it might have been out of the personality that Snape showed him (Dumbledore wasn't sure, himself, how strong Snape's love to Lily was, after all these years), to the language he had thought that Snape would listen to, would understand. I don't care if it sounds like excuses. I'm sure that Dumbledore was broken by the inevitability to sacrifice Harry, was trying to do his best to make sure that things wouldn't turn out with Harry's death. And, hey, it worked. He found the loop-hole, and he and Harry managed to have it happen, too. The best in both of them.

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I thought that the epilogue was perfect (here is where I need to say that I'm not just a sap, but also twelve. Or a twelve-years-old sap, or whichever?). Not in the sense of answering questions or closing up loose ends, but in the sense of really finishing Harry's journey. Harry was called "father" in the epilogue. That's the first reference to him there, the little girl clutching his arm, her father's arm, and then Harry speaks and we know it's him. This was the place that he found for himself, the family he built, the way he could be there for his children and wife and friends, which was taken away from his own parents.

It showed that he really found that one thing that he looked for, all this time, that he longed for and saw in the mirror of Erised, that he needed and found and almost-found in the people around him and in Hogwarts, and eventually really created, managed to build. That's the real end of the hardships and the longing and the need and the pain. He lost so much - not just his parents, but Sirius and Dumbledore, and all the people who died in the fight - and managed to still find this place and go there. Not just for him, but for Ginny and those kids, as well. Probably for Teddy, too. It's somewhat like Sam's "Well, I'm back", which is the real final proper end to LotR, you know?

Even the children's names closed that family circle: James, his biological father; Albus and Severus, the two most important people from Hogwarts (father-figure and sort of opposite-father-figure, and of course, the two that made it possible for him to be alive); and Lily. Finally something with Lily close to Severus, in peace, the peace that the poor man could never have found in life.

But it's not just about having family and friends. Dumbledore's youth, with his poor sister, estranged brother, treachurous friend and the pain it all left him, showed us, at least, that. The important part, and that's also what the epilogue was, for me, is what you do with these people, how you choose to handle these components of your life. Even those things, the best they can be, can be a source of pain and hardship. Your choice. Your path. Not just what you were given, but what you do with it.

The book, the one that didn't have anything to do with the schoolyear, unlike any of the others, ends with going to Hogwarts. All throughout the books, there was a shift in the order of priorities of things, of what mattered and who could be in charge of that. "Philosopher's Stone" ended with house points and winning a cup. The coming books still had sports and exams and grades and the school spirit and good name, but each of them less so. Other things mattered, as well. The world outside, the crumbling of the grow-ups abilities to put order and peace in that world, the leaning, more and more, about the young children and teenagers, the main characters of the book.

Just like the legends twisted and changed and turned out to be real, and less and more than people wanted and needed them to be, the whole world had to change the importance of things, to look different, not just to the characters, but to the readers, as well. The Triwizard Tournament's cup was less important because of Voldemort's return and Cedrik's death. The whole of the school was closed because of Dumbledore's death. And in this book, even Hermione, who couldn't bare to think of detention, didn't even return to school. Other things mattered now.

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But with the epilogue, things return to the level of importance that Harry, Ron and Hermione saw to them, at the very beginning of the series. Their children worry about going to school, their parents writing to them, which house they're going to be sorted. A few pages ago, people sat all jumbled at the houses' tables, careless as to who belonged where, but the children who go to school for the first time care about that, and about not being friends with a professor, and about missing their family at night. We go back, full circle, real circle this time, to the child's point of view, the child's order of priorities, the child's world. I find that, not only lovely, but also comforting.

Oh, and then, to my delight, even there, with the children, and Harry as the loving father he always dreamed of having, there's one last mentioned of that whole choice subject, which to me is the heart of the stories. And again, full circle, real circle, to what Harry felt and went through, when he was a confused child of eleven, and the Sorting Hat took his consideration and choice into account. A small choice, of a house, which, as Harry himself notes, doesn't really matter all that much. And still.

Oh, I'm sorry that this turned out so ramble-y, so long (not going to read back! I've got too much to read, with all y'all words!), so confused and oh, oh-so-sappy.

[Edit: OK, shutting up. Threadsucking. Oops-ing.]

Dear lord I love Nilly's spicey brains. I so truly do.

Aww, Nilly - you made me cry.

There indeed seems to be a high pollen count accompanying Nilly's post. Strangest thing.

Whoa, Nilly! You write like a twelve year old but you think like a genius, Kid! Wow, you've got heart! I love the Potter books even more than I did before thanks to your absolutely crazy, rambling and brilliantly insightful analysis. Thanks!

Wow Nilly! You are awesome. You verbalized things that I couldn't put into words. You caught some things that I didn't, and clarified some others. And please stop being sorry for being a sap! I'm 36 y.o male, and I'm one too (Hi, my name is BC, and I'm a sap..... :: from group :: Hi BC) I think we all are to a certain extent. Which is why we love these books. They pull at the heart strings something fierce.

One of the things I found interesting, and I hope you expand on, as my words won't be as good. Dumbledore's painting behind Snapes chair. First perceived as turning your back to, but later seen as "I got your back". And ya, the son's name Albus Servus, o boy did that bring tears (and again now thinking of it)

I look forward to release of all in paperback. Hopefully a pretty box set. I'll buy them all then. Yes, if you can believe it, I borrowed all of them to read. I did buy the first 3 in paperback, but when I learned my sister hadn't read any of them, promptly gave them to her for Christmas.

It's so good to get a Nilly recap. I never felt like I had really watched a Firefly episode until I read Nilly's insights.

Tod, I think you're new. Welcome! (English is not Nilly's native language. She's in Israel.)