In other words, the feels, the feels, man! Despite the countless moments of humor and wit in this series, J.K. Rowling writes with surprising sensitivity at times, and I think that’s what really makes this series tick.
After all, there’s no point in having a clever plot or good characters if the emotion isn’t there, right? So let us remind ourselves again of the many bittersweet, poignant, and downright heart-breaking scenes from Harry Potter…
And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
“I feel I owe you another explanation Harry,” said Dumbledore hesitantly. “You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess…that I rather thought…you had enough responsibility to be going on with.”
Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard.
Harry’s insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.
“And?” he said, dreading the answer.
“Well, you know the Whomping Willow,” said Ron. “It — it doesn’t like being hit.”
“Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around, said Hermione in a very small voice.
Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry’s faithful, finally beaten broomstick.
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry’s knobbly knees—Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall in upon him as Mrs. Weasley held him to her. His mother’s face, his father’s voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground all started spinning in his head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him.
As he lay there, he became aware suddenly that the grounds were silent. Fawkes had stopped singing. And he knew, without knowing how he knew it, that the phoenix had left Hogwarts for good, just as Dumbledore had left the school, had left the world…had left Harry.
It felt most strange to stand here in the silence and know that he was about to leave the house for the last time. Long ago, when he had been left alone while the Dursleys went out to enjoy themselves, the hours of solitude had been a rare treat: pausing only to sneak something tasty from the fridge, he had rushed upstairs to play on Dudley’s computer, or put on the television and flicked through the channels to his heart’s content.
It gave him an odd, empty feeling to remember those times; it was like remembering a younger brother whom he had lost.
And yet sitting here on the edge of the lake, with the terrible weight of grief dragging at him, with the loss of Sirius so raw and fresh inside, he could not muster any great sense of fear. It was sunny, and the grounds around him were full of laughing people, and even though he felt as distant from them as though he belonged to a different race, it was still very hard to believe as he sat here that his life must include, or end in, murder ..
He sat there for a long time, gazing out at the water, trying not to think about his godfather or to remember that it was directly across from here, on the opposite bank, that Sirius had once collapsed trying to fend off a hundred dementors…
The sun had set before he realised he was cold. He got up and returned to the castle, wiping his face on his sleeve as he went.
“The scar had not pained Harry for years. All was well.”
So what were your saddest moments from Harry Potter?
For me, it was definitely Sirius’s death. Sirius was not by any means my favorite character, but the fact that he died without fulfilling any sort of happiness in his life made my heart bleed so far for him. Not to mention, seeing how desperately Harry tried to deny Sirius’ death made it all the more heart-breaking; the two-way mirror scene, Harry’s conversation with Nearly Headless Nick…just tears.
Ahh, I just love the emotions that Harry Potter makes me feel. Potterheads ftw!