Why is it that at no point in this entire book and/or film series does Professor McGonagall use her turn-into-a-cat power for anything helpful? She never uses it to sneak into the Ministry of Magic and eavesdrop, she never uses it to see Voldemort naked, she never uses it to give Lucius Malfoy cat scratch fever of the dick. They say it’s excruciatingly difficult to become an animagus and takes years and years of study (except that even flushable wipe Peter Pettigrew figured it out in, like, one year as a teenager, but okay1), yet McGonagall uses it literally exclusively to blow kids’ minds on the first day of Transfiguration class. Ma’am, you are engaged in guerilla warfare against a shadow army of fascists that can do magic. Turn into a cat one time?
It’s cute that they try to make pointy wizard hats a workable fashion choice in this first movie and then by number two they’re like, “Yeah, this is fucking stupid, no one would wear this, it’s so tall, I can’t get through a door.” The pointy hats are the most implausible thing in the whole series, and that includes someone whose last name is Lupin coincidentally getting bit by a werewolf.
Dumbledore and McGonagall arrive at the Dursleys’ house where they’re about to dump Harry, an infant, for eleven years. McGonagall is like, “Where’s the baby?” and Dumbledore is like, “Hagrid is bringing him,” and she’s like, “Uh, excuse me?” and he’s like, “I would trust Hagrid with my life.” R U sure? He is the most bumbling person you’ve ever met!
They leave the baby on the porch in the dark and go back…home? Where do Hogwarts teachers live? Do they have to, like, live in their offices? Are they allowed to get married and have children? Let the teachers live in Hogsmeade, at least! That way the students wouldn’t constantly have to see McGonagall in her tartan dressing gown, and the teachers could achieve some work-life balance. Can someone please start unionizing at Hogwarts? I nominate Madam Hooch—she’s not busy (how is “occasional referee” a full-time job??????).
Flash-forward eleven years: Harry is now a severely traumatized tween who is forced to live in an airless cupboard and do unpaid domestic labor for his abusive (and worse, FAT) family because Dumbledore, “the only wizard you-know-who was ever afraid of,” who lives in a castle, thought it was “safer” for Harry there, even though as far as everyone knew at the time Voldemort had exploded. And yeah, I’m aware of the freaking magic power of a mother’s love, but couldn’t Harry just put the Dursleys’ as his registered address and then go “on vacation” to Hogwarts all year? He lives there most of the year anyway! And as far as I can tell, magic is all semantics! It doesn’t seem to be a problem when he leaves Privet Drive early to go to the Burrow for the last month of summer holiday every year. And anyway, what about Harry’s emotional safety?
AAAAAAAAALSOOOOOOOO WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO ALL FOUR OF HARRY’S GRANDPARENTS? DID YOU KNOW THAT IF YOU DO THE MATH, LILY AND JAMES POTTER WERE ONLY TWENTY-ONE WHEN THEY DIED???? ALL FOUR OF THEIR PARENTS WERE ALREADY DEAD!?!?!? DO YOU KNOW ANYONE LIKE THAT IN REAL LIFE WHO DIDN’T LIVE THROUGH A WAR OR PLAGUE?
JUSTICE
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NANA
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GRAMPO
EVANS
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MUNGA
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POP
POP
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You know, it’s like actually insane to make Harry sleep in the cupboard under the stairs when you have an entire extra bedroom. And don’t you need the storage? I would NEVER give up my linen closet no matter how much I hated my shitty nephew! Take the master, Grayson! I expected better logic out of Aunt Petunia, being the only non-fat in the family.
Harry’s cousin Dudley has his parents totally cucked. He screams at them that he didn’t get enough birthday presents, and instead of giving him the present of a ride to the orphanage, his dad starts crying and takes him to the zoo. They’re in the reptile house when Harry just starts talking to a snake, and his only vibe is like, “Huh, I’ve never talked to a snake before.” Dude, you’re essentially a Muggle right now! It’s not like you live in the wizarding world where a cat is a person and sometimes a book will slice your jugular. This chill is psychopathic.
Harry and the snake bond over their shared traumas. The snake tells Harry he was bred in captivity, and Harry goes, “That’s me too. I never knew my parents either.” Which had to have bugged the shit out of the snake because that’s not what “bred in captivity” means at all. That’s like when you tell someone your dad died and they nod and say they understand how you feel because they really miss their cat when they’re at work. Like, sorry your parents got murdered by a magician, but “bred in captivity” involves the kidnapping, imprisonment, forced insemination, and slavery of your entire family, sweetie! Look it up!
Harry uses his secret wizard emotions to make the glass disappear, so the snake is like, “Bye, I’m going to slither to Burma.” Okay, good luck with all of Europe, the Middle East, Central Asia, and the Indian subcontinent. I’m sure you’ll make it, though!
Now it’s Harry’s birthday, and for the first time in his life, he gets a letter in the mail. Mesmerized, this dumbass brings the letter into the dining room like he’s never met his own family before. Uncle Vernon of course confiscates it, fatly, but the letters keep coming! Thousands and thousands of them! Uncle Vernon has no choice but to Airbnb a shack on a crag in the middle of the ocean and drag his weeping family there because no wizard could possibly check his browser history and figure out where they went. (Actually, that is true. Wizards are constantly roasting “Muggle technology,” meanwhile their
