When Albus and Aberforth were young lads, despite Albus’s prolific magical talent, Aberforth was the better man. Albus’s heart was not with his family. The death of Ariana rattled everything for both of them.
For Albus, watching his friend cruciate his brother and (probably) kill his sister wrecked him for good. “He was never free,” Harry said, and the green potion had proven that. When Albus chose Matthew 6:21 for his mother’s and sister’s grave, it was an act of repentance. He knew his “treasure” had been the Hallows, causing his heart to be away from his family and instead invested in visions of power.
For Aberforth, Ariana’s death set in a lifelong bitterness that was never quite healed. He showed bravery and attempts toward that end in joining the Order during VoldWar I and being a regular and helpful contact to Albus. But he was never quite able to see his brother’s repentance, because bitterness had hijacked his heart and mind.
Aberforth could never have orchestrated the downfall of Voldemort, not because Albus was simply smarter and more gifted, but because only the love of Albus was able to mold Harry Potter. There’s a fascinating phrase parallel that Rowling uses in Harry’s conversations with Albus and Aberforth.
From Half-Blood Prince:
“But, sir,” said Harry, making valiant efforts not to sound argumentative, “it all comes to the same thing, doesn’t it? I’ve got to try and kill him, or -””
“Got to?” said Dumbledore. “Of course you’ve got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you’ve tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!”
Harry watched Dumbledore striding up and down in front of him, and thought. He thought of his mother, his father, and Sinus. He thought of Cedric Diggory. He thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done. A flame seemed to leap inside his chest, searing his throat.
“I’d want him finished,” said Harry quietly. “And I’d want to do it.”
“Of course you would!” cried Dumbledore. “You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything!” (HBP-23)
Albus is exceedingly agitated, and we never see him get this way. The point is absolutely crucial. Of course Harry’s got to, but it’s because of his love for his family and the knowledge the Voldemort had and would continue to tear loved ones apart. It was a decisive moment for Harry:
Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents that there was all the difference in the world.
Now, fast forward to another moment of decision for Harry. He has chosen his path; he would follow Albus’s plan, even if he didn’t know what was to come. Harry has told a cynical Aberforth that Albus left him a job to do, and this following dialogue ensues:
“I-it’s not easy, no,” said Harry. “But I’ve got to – ”
“‘Got to’? Why ‘got to’? He’s dead, isn’t he?” said Aberforth. Let it go, boy, before you follow him! Save yourself!”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I — ” Harry felt overwhelmed; he could not explain, so he took the offensive instead. “But you’re fighting too, your in the Order of the Phoenix – ”
“I was,” said Aberforth. “The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who’s won, it’s over, and anyone who’s pretending different’s kidding themselves.” (DH-28)
Aberforth, now old and jaded by years of bitterness, has all but given up and tells Harry to save himself and forget everyone else. He even goes so far as to define love as telling Harry to hide. “Why didn’t [Albus] tell [Harry] to hide, then? Why didn’t he say to him, ‘Take care of yourself, here’s how to survive’?” Harry replies:
“Because…sometimes you’ve got to think about more than your own safety! Sometimes you’ve got to think about the greater good! This is war!”
“Got to,” indeed. Thankfully, Albus learned from his youthful foolishness and became the forgiving and loving man that mentors Harry. Thankfully, Harry had been shaped by and put his trust in Albus before meeting Aberforth.
And thankfully, we begin to see a transformation in Aberforth as well, who joins the Battle of Hogwarts.
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{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
Excellent points, Travis. I knew there was something that sounded vaguely familiar about that conversation Harry had with Aberforth, but hadn’t put it together.
One has to wonder what did happen to Aberforth after Voldemort was defeated. It must have changed him some–that conversation with Harry, seeing all those coming back to fight, and seeing at least that bit of evil destroyed from the world.
Aberforth and Albus never were really close, though, not even when they were younger, it seems. There was always a separation because Albus was so gifted. Rowling even made mention of that when she said something about Albus not having anyone who was his equal, a friend, with whom he could share his thoughts, plans, and concerns. After the mistake he made with becoming friends with Grindelwald, and the devastating effect that had on his family, there wasn’t much chance that the two remaining brothers could be the friends that siblings sometimes are later in life. What a shame. I have to wonder too, if after the battle, Aberforth ever went to the headmasters office to talk to his brother’s portrait. I’d like to think so–mainly because it would have given Aberforth the chance to heal his own heart.
Pat
Very good post. And Granger’s is excellent as well.
What do you make of Aberforth’s crucial help to Harry & Co provided via the mirror at various points (and in other ways too)? Was he presumably just trying to help Harry survive, trying to help the victims of his brother’s latest scheme? If so, it’s incredibly ironic that, as John points out, the vision of the blue eyes in the mirror at Malfoy Manor, eyes Harry at the time assumes to be Albus’, was so crucial in helping Harry *believe* in Albus again and decide to do what he’s “got to.”
A rather random musing on love in HP….
I think that one of the things Rowling’s depiction of love in HP shows is that for her love is always strongly tinged by sorrow and loss. It is never simply a purely “joyful” emotion, at least not an upbeat joy. I cannot think of any example of love in the books which is not under the deep shadow of loss and death. Can anyone else? Molly Weasley’s love for her family is coloured by the threat of loss. Bill and Fleur. Tonks and Lupin. Harry and Ginny. (Maybe Hermione and Ron deal w/ it the least, though Ron’s desertion in the midst of DH introduces lots of grief into their relationship.) Harry’s love for his family. Dumbledore’s understanding of love. Love and grief and remorse are always closely intertwined and very hard to distinguish in the books.
Harry perceives this when he says at the point of his own ‘re-conversion’ in DH,
““Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out… though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love….”
Part of this is of course that most of the action in the books takes place in time of war and conflict.
But I think Rowling’s experience and concept of love is definitely cruciform, and not just in her depiction of Lily and Harry’s sacrifices, etc.
What led me down this line of thought is pondering Albus’s own life…
As Eeyeore says
http://eeyoresreflections.blogspot.com/2007/08/albus-dumbledore-not-who-we-thought-he.html
once he learns he can’t be trusted w/ power he guards against that temptation always. Same w/ intimacy, IMHO.
Once he learns his lesson w/ Grindelwald, he indeed never seems to allow himself intimate love (note I am *not* equating intimate w/ sexual–contra the GG/AD slash pieces out there in fanfiction!), at least not as far as we know. Rowling says in an interview he has no confidante, no emotional equal, is isolated. It’s as if once burned by intimacy gone wrong (his friendship w/ Grindelwald)he never trusts himself to it again. He knows love in the abstract, but not in the personal.
Thanks Travis,
One anti-Potter site I saw said that the series was evil because the books contain “sexual congress with goats”. What?!
Do you have any insight into the whole Aberforth and goats, goat patronus, smelling like goats, and getting into trouble with the ministry for something to do with goats?
Is he a goat fiddler?
Matthew
No idea in particular about the goat thing, though it does say that it was the practice of inappropriate charms, doesn’t it?
I wonder what they are? Is it like a “Charm Person” but really “charm goats”.
How wonderfully versitile is magic.
Matthew
Albus and Aberforth have a fascinating sibling dynamic. Aberforth has always blamed Albus somewhat following their mother’s death. Even as early as that, Albus started in with his righteous “You must finish school, you mustn’t stay home and take care of Ariana,” routine, even though that’s how Aberforth felt his energies would be best served. The Grindelwald incident was the perfect example and jumping off point to illustrate how for the rest of Aberforth’s life, he would just rather keep his nose out of other people’s business, because it’s safer that way. It also galvanizes Albus, as a young man, into doing the *right thing* always, from then on. Later in the book, though, Aberforth, despite his years of resentment toward his brother, still wants to help. He still helps Neville, and still pulls them off the street and lies to the Death Eaters. He may whinge about it, and may claim that Harry’d be better off doing what is easy, but in the end, even he fights for what’s right.
Ariana occasionally helped Aberforth tend to goats. That’s where the Patronus comes from. As for the “inappropriate charm” thing, I think Rowling was trying to be funny at first, then made a bit more of its significance as she went on with her planning.
Good point about the patronus, Dave!
Matthew
The goat thing, of course, could have something to do with bezoars.
Trish, oh, good call! Maybe he wanted to get bezoars out to sell? Maybe he was attempting to extract bezoars without killing the goat?
I like the goat fiddler explanation the best. And I do think JKR was having us on.
I see Aberforth as Albus’ Shadow – like him but his opposite. Where Albus counsels involvement, Aberforth counsels disengagement, where Albus counsels self-sacrifice, Aberforth counsels self-interest, where Aberforth counsels despair, Albus counsels hope. After Albus’ death, Aberforth takes over as mentor, but mainly to firm up Harry’s faith in Albus’ counsels.
It’s actually a very formal kind of literary device: the two voices, preaching opposite courses of action, and the hero needs to decide which is true and which is false counsel.
I like it when JKR gets formal. Take that and put it in your pipe, Mr. Rilstone.
Re: the literary relationship between Albus and Aberforth, I should have said foil, rather than Shadow. Although Aberforth does have negative qualities we don’t see in Albus, I think that the role of Albus’ Shadow is filled by Grindelwald who does reach out for the power Albus wisely forswears, and who is fittingly bested by Albus. Aberforth’s advice, on the other hand, mostly serves to highlight Albus’ opposing advice, as befits a foil.
Hello. This is the first time I comment here, but I’m reading the essays for some time now. They are really insightful and interesting.
I wanted to say, that I disagree at least partly with your interpretation about Abefrorth as someone, who gave up fighting, even prior to the last battle. Because despite of his words, he actually does a lot. He uses the mirror to keep an eye on the Trio and sends Dobby to save them from malfoy Manor. He saved them again from the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. He provided Neville and the others with food. He even got into contact with Percy and alerted him of the battle. That’s quite a lot, for someone, who supposedly had given up. I see Aberforth as someone who is pretty gruff on the outside, but ultimately seems to have a heard of gold.