Welcome to Critical Magic Theory, where we deconstruct the Wizarding Walter Perry Potter, because loving something doesn't mean we can't be critical of it.

I'm Professor Julian Womble, and today is our last full episode on the one and Only Albd Albus Dumbledore, Grandpa Brian, Albi Diva, y'all, And what a journey we've been on.

What a time it's been, What a moment, what a exploration this has all been for us.

I know that many of us are probably happy to see the other side of Dumbledore, although I have to say I've had a great time.

And I also am going to back myself on the back because according to some very trusted sources, the last episode was one of the best.

That's what the people are saying.

I'm not saying it.

That's what the people are saying.

I'm listening to the people.

I'm telling you what the people said.

Okay, So whether or not you agree to disagree.

If you agree, let me know in the post episode chat.

If you don't, though you don't say anything, you can just like let it ride.

Okay, let me live in my delusion.

It's the holidays.

Let me have this this can be your gift to me my delusion.

I was lauded for getting many of us to pretty much agree about Dumbledore in the last episode, and that was not my intention.

You know that I'm not very invested in the idea of you all agreeing with me most of the time because chaos, however, simultaneously concurrently, and I was pleased about this.

And so if you haven't listened to the last prof Responds episode on Dumbledore, I highly recommend that you do.

The people are saying it's a good one, and I also really enjoyed it.

I also have to preface this episode by saying the reflection is a bit It might trigger some emotions in people, not like anger or ire or angst, but like I was writing it and I felt feelings and that's just not my vibe.

My therapist and I are working on it, Okay.

I don't think he listens to these episodes anymore, so he won't know.

He won't know, and if he does anyways, it's fine.

I hope that you all enjoy this episode.

I think this is probably one of the more chaotic ones, as we will be discussing whether or not Dumbledore is a villain whether he was a good mentor, and whether or not everything that he did was worth it.

That's what this episode is about, and honestly, what a time is going to be.

Your responses in the survey were so good.

Have you ever wondered if fighting for the greater good means you can't be a villain, or what it means for the children raised by the adults and Harry's world Molly remiss mcgonagall's snape, who seemingly haven't dealt with the First Wizarding War, or what it means to ask whether something is worth it when the people who survive the victory still live inside the trauma of the war.

Y'all, we are getting into all of it for this episode.

Oh but first, but first, but first, we only have two more beard bobs, this one and the next one.

Leave it all out there, Well, don't leave it all because we've got another one.

But it's time for the beard Bob.

Okay, and it's coming to you in three in two.

He thought I was gonna say, in one in one, let's bup.

We need to talk about Harry Potter.

I hope you danced.

We don't have that many beard bops left, so you've really got to get them where you can.

Speaking of getting things where you can, think those of you who joined us on the Patreon for the post episode chat for all of the episodes in our Dumbledore series.

Look, y'all.

I don't know about you, but as for me, this series has been a lot easier to get through than the Snape one.

The Snape one took everything out of me.

I don't know.

I walked away with nothing left.

I don't know if I needed a drink.

I don't know if I don't know what I needed, but I needed something.

And so thank you all for just keeping the peace and also bringing brilliance to us in the post episode chat.

It's been really, really great to have these conversations.

I also don't know about you, but I've learned a lot, and what's amazing is that the learning isn't done.

There are two more episodes, one more prop Responds episode.

We have time to really get into the nitty gritty that is i'bd okay, and so I can't wait to see what you will bring to bear.

If you have not joined us on Patreon and you've been curious, you've been thinking about it, you've been wondering like, is this a place where I can flourish?

Perhaps the answer is yes, and you can join for free and see if it's for you.

Patreon dot com slash Critical Magic Theory again for free and you can join, and you can join us on the post episode chat.

I love it when people say like I never I didn't think I was going to join the Patreon, but you said something that made me want to join so that I could like yell at you.

I love that some of you forego the Patreon and go straight from my Instagram.

Dms also viable if you don't want to be in conversation and you just want to yell at me in private.

Also that is allowed.

If you want to be in community and you would like to be a paid subscriber, you can do so, and you can become an outstanding owl, a deep diver, or a chronic overthinker.

If you become a deep diver chronic overthinker, you also have access to our discord, which is very lively.

No, I have not I have not done another duel.

Okay, my thumbs don't move that fast, and they keep trying to get me in them, but I'm not doing it because I'm too busy and I just need to focus when I do this duel, and so this means that they're probably going to try to invite me to do one again, but I'll do it at my own, precious and good time.

Thank you very very much.

Also, I have not forgotten about the holiday charitable donation that I want to give on the on behalf of our podcast.

I just have to put together the merch which we'll be dropping sometime this week that has been created by some of our listeners, and those proceeds will go to charities of our choosing.

Some of you have been on the Patreon and seen that I have asked what charities are we thinking about.

Once we compile a list, I will then go through and see which ones we choose, and there's never a moment where we don't we have to stop.

So I'm glad that we're compiling this list because we can just keep doing this.

I like the idea of allowing our listeners to flex their artistic muscles and then using that to contribute to the work that other people are doing.

It's really important, and I think that many of us are aligned in our desire to be as helpful as possible, particularly in these crazy times, and particularly for populations and communities that are being disadvantaged because of any number of things, And so there are always spaces and places where we can contribute, and the holidays is a great time to do it.

But it's not the only time that we have to so this won't be the only time.

So don't worry.

If financially right now you can't, or there are lots of other reasons and moving things in your life that keep you from being able to contribute that way, don't worry about it.

Also, don't worry.

We are going to have things from a lot of different price points for people, as you often hear, and I know that some of us are fundraisers who are listeners.

Any amount counts, and so I will let you all know.

It will all definitely be up by the time I do the Prof Responds episode for this, so I cannot wait to see what we do as a community.

But before we get into any of that, it's time for us to really dive into the one and only Albus Dumbledore.

So buckle up.

It's going to be a ride, y'all.

I can feel it.

I had to think about another favorite moment I don't know why I do this to myself with these three episode arcs.

It's definitely my fault.

I probably should have been a little bit more discerning, But somehow, some way, here we are.

And so I had to think of a third favorite moment of Dumbledore, and one of my favorite Dumbledore moments actually, and one of the moments that I think still hits me like a ton of bricks every single time I read it is a scene in Half Blood Prints when he and Harry enter into the cave to ultimately retrieve the fake locket.

And this is not a glamorous moment.

This is not a moment that looks cute and where Dumbledore really walks away, you know, looking shiny and new.

But I do think it's a moment where we get a glimpse of the Dumbledore that we thought he was all along, you know, like the mythic one, the one who had our childhood imaginations running wild before we ever saw him do any kind of magical feat, the one who seemed like he could do anything in the cave.

For once, all the planning and the manipulation and the emotional distance falls away and we're lepped with something so stark and human and not for me is what I think is extraordinary.

In this moment, Dumbledore makes Harry swear to force him to drink that potion, to make him swallow every last drop, even if and when he begs for us to stop, and Harry fulfills the promise.

He forces Dumbledore to drink something that dredges up the worst memories of his life, something that makes him relive the ghost of his past Ariana Grenda Wald, the people he loved, the mistakes he made, he enabled or failed to prevent.

In that moment, Dumbledore is submerged in a nightmare of his own history.

All the things he's spent decades running from are suddenly right there, sitting inside of him, burning through him, tearing him apart from the inside out.

And on top of all of that trauma, as if it wasn't enough, he's dying because he put that cursed ring ring on the thing thing, and it's killing him.

It's draining him every second, and then the potion is doing the same.

He is, in every sense deteriorating, falling apart.

And then comes the moment that floors me.

Every time Harry goes to the lake to get water, because he has to.

Even though Dumbledore told him not to touch the water, he knows now he has to, because that's how Voldemort ha set it up, knowing that there are in fury waiting beneath, waiting to ack.

And when Harry is seconds away from being dragged under, Dumbledore somehow pulls himself out of the potion induced horror long enough to wield magic that feels like the stuff of legends, fiery and impossible, magic, magic that pushes back death itself literally and saves Harry's life.

He has broken, he is poisoned, he is exhausted, he is dying, and he still finds a way to protect the boy standing beside him.

Now.

I want to say this really carefully, because I don't want to rely on easy metaphors of parental instinct, especially since I know that there are so many of us who have complicated relationships with our parents and guardians.

So I want to frame him like this.

This is the Dumbledore we imagined as children many of us.

This is a Dumbledore we thought we were getting, the one who would weather anything, even his own internal devastation, to keep herey safe.

But what makes this moment so haunting is that It also is a microcosm of his entire arc, because what is Dumbledore doing in that cave if not fighting the literal and metaphorical dead bodies of his past again Ariana Grenda Wald, his choices, the choices he didn't make, the people he failed to save, the people he harmed.

As I was thinking about this moment, I thought to myself, Wow, this moment is really Dumbledore's priority infantatam with the ghost emerging, the consequences made visible, and just like Voldemort in the graveyard, Dumbledore is forced to face everything he's tried to outrun.

And yet in that moment, I don't think he's thinking about the war.

I don't think he's thinking about strategy or the greater good, or the order or the prophecy.

I honestly believe that, for the first time in the series, maybe one of the few times, and for a very specific amount of time, he's only thinking about Harry, About the boy he brought into this nightmare, the child he asked unimaginable things of, about the responsibility he carries for putting Harry in this position.

This moment is an intersection of Dumbledore's two selves, the Haunted Man drowning in the consequences of his past, and the impossibly powerful wizard who can still summon enough magic to save someone who cares about.

There's no manipulation, no long gain, no secrets in this moment, just a man fighting through his own horror to protect the person beside him.

And as complicated as Dumbledore is and harmful and flawed and makes us feel like we're losing our minds, this moment is beautiful to me because it shows what he could have been, what he sometimes was, and what I believe he thought.

He was, someone who could still choose compassion over strategy, even when strategy had ruled his life.

This is the Dumbledore of legend, not the general, not the mastermind, but the man who for a moment lets every ghost fall away and chooses to save a child instead of a war.

It is time for our Arrhythmecy Lesson a reminder that we had five hundred and sixty four responses, and here's the first question we're grappling with.

Is Albus Dumbledore a villain?

Oh gosh, not out the gate?

Twenty four percent of us said yes, about sixty two percent of us said no, and about fourteen percent of us said, don't no.

It's really fascinating because a lot of us had so much to say about the secrecy and the manipulation and the emotional withholding and the harm that he perpetuates, and yet we still don't quite buy into the Dumbledore is a villain.

Now.

I know that some of us do, and I know that some of us will make that known.

In the post episode chat, someone wrote, Dumbledore uses people.

A hero protects people.

I don't think he ever did that.

He did what he thought was needed, regardless of what it cost to anyone.

Another person wrote, Albus is not a hero nor a villain.

He was a man, a complex man with good intentions and at times a lacking execution.

Another person wrote, as a teenager, I loved Dumbledore.

As an adult, I find his methods concerning a lot of what he did that felt heroic when I was younger, just feels manipulative now.

And one more person wrote, he wields his reputation like a shield charm, deflecting scrutiny while maintaining the illusion of protection.

By placing Harry with the Dursleys, Dumbledore in acts a pedagogy of deprivation, a form of moral conditioning designed to ensure gratitude and obedience.

And now it's my turn.

I'm actually getting married to that particular vocal interlude, so that might be the one.

We'll see what the rest of the episode brings us.

One of the most fascinating results of this data, and one of the reasons this conversation about Dumbledore endures, is that villainy is about more than just causing harm.

If harm alone made someone a villain, Dumbledore would absolutely qualify as far as I'm concerned.

His choices led to emotional damage, physical danger, generational trauma, and the shaping of children for a war they never chose to fight in.

But people don't define villainy that way.

Most of you, some sixty two percent of you, said he is not a villain, and that tells us something very deep.

For most people, Villainy is not measured by the outcome.

It's measured by intention.

And intention is where Dumbledore escapes the villain label.

Because, don't get me wrong, Dumbledore causes harm, often intentionally, but the goal of the manipulation, the secrecy, the sacrifice in all the things was never for harm's sake.

Harm is a byproduct of his belief that he is doing what must be done the cost of pursuing the outcome he thinks will save the world.

And I think that this is really fascinating because I think that distinction, however flawed, is really really meaningful, particularly morally.

It pulls us right into the terrain of war, which we've been navigating throughout our discussion of Dumbledore.

Over the past few episodes.

Many of you have highlighted the reality that war forces impossible choices.

It creates circumstances where even the quote unquote good people do things that wound others.

It blurs the line between heroism and harm.

Dumbledore, whether he wanted to be or not, was a general in this war, and generals leave devastation behind.

We see versions of this in every storytelling.

I was thinking about Captain America Civil War because I'm a big Marvel person.

You might not have known that about me, but I love a superhero because I love people with powers, whether it be magic or supernatural, it doesn't matter to me.

If you can blast things from your hands, you got me.

And in Captain America Civil War, the Avengers the world, but in doing so they level buildings, destroy cities, and cause casualties.

Now they do that in all of their movies.

But Civil War is interesting because the question of that particular one isn't about whether or not they are heroes or villains.

It's about how they can be held accountable based on the harm they cause.

Harm is not the exclusive domain of villains.

Harm is also the collateral damage of heroes.

That same logic applies to the Wizarding World.

Harry loses his parents because Lily and James were fighting in a war.

Teddy Loupin loses his parents for the same reason.

Even Hogwarts, the center of so much magical protection, becomes a monument to the violence that war demands.

The greater good may justify victory, but it doesn't erase the emotional and physical toll on the communities left behind, And Dumbledore's suit of the greater good, no matter how noble its intentions, leaves behind a long trail of trauma, loss, and sacrifice.

So when your responses overwhelmingly say that Dumbledore is not a villain, what I think they're really expressing in what I'm hearing in in reading your comments is a sophisticated moral recognition.

Because you all are very sophisticated it's saying to me that harm is not exclusive to villain, that heroes can cause harm to and intention mediates but doesn't erase the consequences.

So Dumbledore is not a villain because he does not intend evil, but he is not blameless either, simply because he is doing good.

He is a man whose desire to do heroic things leaves devastation in its wake, one whose moral certainty justifies actions that wound, a man who believes that the cost is necessary, even when the cost is children.

And that's that the same thing as being a villain, But it's also not the same thing as being good.

Ultimately, Dumbledore resides in that uncomfortable but deeply deeply human space where many of our real world leaders find themselves trying to do the right thing, accepting the reality that harm is inevitable, believing the ends justify the means, and leaving behind a world that is both saved and scarred.

The fact that he isn't a villain doesn't absolve him.

It just reminds us that villainy and accountability are not the same thing and never happen.

Is Albus Dumbledore a good mentor about twenty six percent of us said yes, about sixty two percent of us said no, and about thirteen percent of us said don't.

No.

Dumbledore is not a good mentor not a good leader.

He doesn't empower people, he uses them order the order that Phoenix was a structure of secrets, and that's not leadership, that's control.

Someone else wrote, Albus Dumbledore was a complicated man who was heavily shaped by his own trauma.

I said he was a hero and a good headmaster, but that he was spread too thin.

And another person wrote, Ultimately, I'm going with yes.

Being a good leader means people moving toward the goal even when we don't like it.

Ultimately, Harry wins and walks away.

Someone else wrote, by deciding what truths his students were ready to handle, he preserves both their dependance and his moral image.

This is not Fuku's pastoral power, but pastoral concealment, the teacher's selective distribution of knowledge to preserve moral authority.

Look at y'all invoking Fuko.

I didn't even know who Fuku was until I got to college, And what a time it was when I figured it out, And what a man, what a brain that guy had.

But anyways, it's my turn.

Before we even can answer the question about whether Albus is a good mentor, we have to ask ourselves a more fundamental question.

I think, was he ever a mentor at all?

And what does that word even mean?

Educational psychology gives us a very straightforward definition.

Most scholars boil mentorship down to three things.

A mentor is an experienced, trusted guide who supports a young person's growth, offers honest feedback, nurtures their development, and prioritizes the mentees well being above the mentor's own needs.

That's coming from Crisp and Cruise two thousand and nine.

Look at us with citations, how scholarly of us.

The reality is that definition alone raises an immediate problem for Dumbledore because if it's a mentor's job to foster someone's development for their own sake, then we have to ask was Harry's growth ever the central goal of Dumbledore's relationship with him?

Or was Harry's development always instrumental a means to an end, a preparation for a war he didn't even know he was fighting half the time.

This is where things get really tricky, because I think for many of us, when we first encountered the series.

We assigned Dumbledore with the role mentor long before he ever earned it.

We wanted him to be that archetype.

We wanted him to be the wise Guide, the Gandalf or the Obi wan Kenobi, the Professor X, because the story seemed to gesture in that direction.

Harry is a child who has been deprived of guidance and love in some ways because of Dumbledore, but that's a different story for a different day.

And Dumbledore is an older figure who knows the truth of the world.

It feels natural to see him as a mentor.

But wanting someone to be a mentor doesn't make them one, and proximity to a child does not make someone a mentor.

Not every guardian is a mentor, not every parent is a mentor.

Not every protector or teacher is a mentor.

So it seems to me that the first question that we have to grapple with is did Dumbledore ever see himself as Harry's mentor or is that a role that we as readers projected onto him.

His actions don't align with the definition.

Mentors don't prepare children for sacrifice.

Mentors don't build secrets into structures of the relationship.

Mentors don't withhold critical truths that shape identity and destiny.

Mentors do not prepare a child for death while pretending to prepare them for life.

And even if we're being generous, even if we said, well, he could have been a mentor, but the war made it impossible, we still have to ask a mentor towards what what exactly was Dumbledore trying to develop in Harry?

What was the goal of this mentorship?

What was the endpoint or the end game he was guiding Harry toward, if not defeating Voldemort by way of death.

Because the answer to that, when we strip away all of the other myth, is devastatingly simple.

We know that at a certain point Dumbledore fully understood that Harry had to die, and he was preparing him for it, not metaphorically, not emotionally, not spiritually.

Literally, It's really fascinating, and it's a moment that I've brought up before, but it's one in the first book where Harry says something along the lines to Hermione and Ron like, I kind of get the sense that he knows everything that's going on around here and just lets it happen, and Hermione says, well, I mean to say, that's like very irresponsible.

And I'm also struck in that same book, and I brought this up.

I know a couple of times when Harry is recounting all of you know, the things that they went through, and he asked the question about Nicholas Flamel and he's like, doesn't that mean he's gonna die?

And Dumbledore shook because he's like, oh, you went and did this research about Nicholas.

Wow.

He says, you really did do the thing.

And I always am struck by this moment because I'm like, you are literally just kind of letting him do whatever he wants, and there's very little guidance.

I think we very rarely see Dumbledore trying to get Harry to do anything.

I mean, I think they're the one moment that we might consider to be mentorship.

And it's still problematic.

Is when he takes him to go convince Horace Sluckhorn to join the faculty, and when he then tells Harry, I need you to get this memory out of him, and I need you to leverage your celebrity and his like greed and need for that celebrity in order to get it.

But I mean, the reality is, It's like, how do we reconcile the idea of him preparing Harry for death with mentorship?

How can someone be a mentor when the developmental goal quote unquote is the death of a child.

And even if death is necessary, even if it saves the world, does that transform their relationship into something other than mentorship?

And as I was thinking through this and reading through your comments, another question came up to me.

Is it an unfair expectation to hold Dumbledore to the standards of mentorship when he never claimed the role, He never sought it, and never behaved as if it were his responsibility.

Maybe Dumbledore didn't fail as a mentor.

Maybe he wasn't a mentor to begin with, And maybe uh oh, maybe the failure is ours the audience, the readers, for conflating proximity with guidance, and power with care, and authority with emotional responsibility.

But even if we grant that, even if we say fine, Dumbledore wasn't meant to be Harry's mentor, we still run into a deeper truth.

Harry needed a mentor, and maybe that's what motivates us, the recognition that this child needed someone, and the one person who had the access, the knowledge, the authority, and the emotional position to be that mentor seemingly refused to be that repeatedly.

And I think that this brings us to another tension, one that your data illuminates so clearly.

Even if Dumbledore wanted to be a mentor, and at moments it seems like maybe he did, how could he possibly fulfill that role in the middle of a war, a war in which the child that he would be mentoring is also the weapon, the target, the prophecy, and the solution.

There's no version of mentorship that can flourish under those conditions.

There's no room for nurturing when every lesson is a step towards death.

There's no ethical way to guide a child when the world demands that child's sacrifice.

So to me, the question was Dumbledore a good mentor may actually be the wrong question, even though I wrote it, But I will say the only reason I included it was because some people in the discord suggested it and I needed another question for the purposes of having three questions per episode.

But I digress.

The real question, maybe was mentorship ever possible in a world where one man holds all the knowledge one child holds all the risk, and the war collapsed his every other relationship into strategy.

Harry, a child who wanted love, family, guidance, and safety, receives instead a man who gives him purpose but not protection, not enough truth, and glimpses of affection, all wrapped up in a destiny that forecloses any real chance at childhood.

Y'all, that's not mentorship, it's not preparation.

It's grooming.

It's a pedagogy shaped by war, not by care.

And according to sixty two percent of you, this is why Dumbledore fails this question again, not because he's evil, but because he was never what we as readers wanted him to be, and he was never what Harry needed him to be.

Now, this next question was a question that I threw in at the end because you all know that I love chaos, and we had chaotic questions, and we had all these things, but I thought, we need something that will allow us to really have to grapple with the truth of it all.

One of the biggest refrains that I got from so many of you was, yeah, some of the stuff that Dumbledore did was not great.

However, simultaneously can currently and and some of you did say that because it's become part of our lexicon.

Some of you have told me that you will use it in your everyday life, and I think it's very funny.

My best friend has started saying it too, and I just feel I feel powerful.

Is this how Dumbledore fell off?

Oh my god?

Am I dumb?

Are you all the Order of the Phoenix?

We're not getting into it right now.

Anyways, that's not the point.

Anyways.

One of the things that you have also said was that, yes, like he did some bad things, but the end of the day, the bad guy was vanquished, and at the end of the day, that's what mattered, that's what needed to happen.

And so I thought to myself, Okay, well let's take that and see how we as a collective arrive at this.

So here's the last question.

Was everything that Dumbledore did worth it?

In the end, about forty six percent of you said yes, twenty five percent of you said no, and about twenty nine percent of you said don't know.

This is the only question where we don't have a majority, where we only have a plurality, and it lands on yes.

And I think that that's really, really fascinating and I'm just excited to dive into this question.

Someone wrote Dumbledore may have made terrible choices, but without him, Voldemort wins, So yes, it was worth it.

Another person wrote, I don't think anything that requires sacrificing the child without their informed consent is worth it.

That's the line for me.

Another person wrote, I can't say whether it was worth it.

The war was awful on every side and every choice seems terrible.

I don't know how you even judge that, And one more person wrote, the combination of the grave threat posed by his enemy and the unique requirements for his defeat meant Dumbledore had no alternative.

Operational security was paramount.

Harry needed to die for Boldemort to be defeated.

Dumbledore alone was able and willing to walk the razor's edge, and now it's might the question wasn't worth it becomes in infinitely more complicated when we remember that the story of Harry Potter is not the story of one war but two, and that the second Wizarding War is fought by a generation whose guardians never healed from the first one.

We don't just see this in the background details.

We see it in the bodies the fear the behaviors of the adults.

Harry grows up around.

We see Molly Weasley on the ground before Boggart, watching each of her children and Harry himself die in front of her.

That is not normal fear.

That is war trauma.

That is a woman who lived through the First Wizarding War, lost both of her brothers in that war, and never once believed she was safe.

This is a woman who walks around with a clock that has mortal peril on it.

We see Sirius, imprisoned without a trial, developmentally frozen at twenty one, unable to re enter adult life because the war stole his best friends, his innocence, and his future.

We see Remus Lupin, whose entire adulthood is shaped by survivor's guilt and displacement.

We see Neville's parents, Alice and Frank Longbottom, brilliant, loving, courageous, left permanently psychologically shattered, not for anything other than the fact that they were Aros and Bellatrix and Bardekrauts Junior and Rodolphus Lestrange wanted to know where Voldemort was.

We see Matti, whose paranoia is not eccentricity but the residue of a lifetime spent watching his friends die and killing people himself.

We see Hagrid crying on the night Voldemort's return, not because he's fragile, but because he remembers exactly what this means, and he knows what coming Whenever McGonagall, her sharpness, strictness, and deep loyalty, perhaps those are all coping mechanisms of a woman who led students through a war and lost far too many from the first time.

In other words, the entire adult world of Harry Potter is still living inside the First War.

And when I say living inside, I don't mean processing it.

They're not healing from it.

They are living inside it.

And these are the adults raising Harry's generation.

So when we ask whether or everything Dumbledore did was worth it, we also have to ask worth it for whom, in what world, to what end?

Because if the adults from the First Wisding War are the model, then we already know what the aftermath looks like.

Voldemort fell, the prophecy was temporarily fulfilled, Lily's sacrif worked, and yet despite all of that, not a single one of those people knows peace.

No one is whole, No one is safe.

They won.

Everyone when the books begin, is out in the streets celebrating, having a good time.

Where's Minerva McGonagall watching Privilege Drive?

Where's Hagrid getting Harry from a ruined home in Godw's Hollow.

We're serious on the hunt to find Peter Pettigrew.

The victory didn't save them.

And here's the other thing that, as I was thinking through, this is so important.

While there were many people who were celebrating, the reality is is that no one wins this.

They can't even say Voldemort's name.

And at that moment, most of the people in the Wizarding world.

It's not because they don't think he'll return.

Some may, but the memory of what happened, what he did the people who were disappeared, can't be vanquished because he's gone.

Trauma always outlives tyranny, and war outlives victory.

So what does it mean to ask whether the second war is worth it?

When the first war already told us that victory doesn't undo the damage.

The triumph does not restore what was lost, and peace is never never, never, never clean, never total, never enough.

And then there's Harry's generation, the children raised by traumatized adults, children who become soldiers before they even become teenagers who see Hogwarts become a battlefield, who lose parents and godparents and mentors and friends, Children who grow up shaped not just by war, but by unhealed wars, undiscussed wars, unprocessed wars.

The Wizarding world cannot give that generation a roadmap for healing because it never learned how to heal itself.

So when Harry finally defeats Voldemort, I don't think we can simply ask if it was worth it in terms of the outcome.

We have to ask what is the world that Harry is stepping into, what is his generation inheriting?

What does victory look like when the society has never actually known recovery?

And what's more, when society doesn't change at all, Because in a world where trauma is inherited, not resolved, the calculus of what it means to be worth something changes.

It becomes less about whether Voldemort was defeated and more whether the cycle ends, whether the next generation simply becomes a repository for unprocessed grief.

We spent a lot of time talking about this.

Dumbledore himself is not untouched by this, and as I said in the last episode, he's always fighting a war, and so the question itself, in many ways, collapses under its own weight.

Maybe the war had to be fought, maybe voldemort had to be defeated, and maybe Dumbledore's strategy was necessary.

But necessary is not the same thing as worth it.

Necessary means there was no choice.

Worth it implies that cost can be justified, and when the cost is an entire generation's innocence twice over, the word worth it feels too small and transactional and cold for what war actually does to people.

And so I was thinking about this, and I thought, maybe the reality is that neither victory was worth it, but both were necessary.

And necessary things often leave wounds that no magic can heal.

If the adults of the Second Wizarding War look anything like the adults from the first, and the epilogue implies that they do, then the Wizarding World will spend yet another generation trying to live inside the shadow a victory that could not save them from the consequences of surviving it.

I felt this particularly when I was reading Manicold at the very end, and if you've never read it, that's totally fine.

All that matters for the purposes of this conversation is thinking about how generations after Harry are affected by what they went through, and what does generational trauma look like, or what does the healing of generational trauma look like?

When you don't have any examples about how to heal oneself, when there's no conversations and there is a way in which many of us are living in societies that are still navigating generational traumas, when governmental structures and societal norms do not invite us to be truthful and honest about the realities of what people have done in the past, how those past actions have shaped the present that we are currently living in.

When we operate from a space of understanding only parts, when history is being removed and rewritten for the purposes of ego maintenance, how can we possibly heal from any of this?

And when I think about the end of the canonical text, I think about what this means for Harry's kids.

I think about what this means for so many of these children who are growing up thinking of Harry as a hero, which he is, but not necessarily dealing with a man who has had the opportunity to grow and heal from the trauma.

All the adults in his life who were people who he depended on, save maybe two, died and yet at the end of the day, he just keeps going.

They just keep going.

We just keep going.

We have now reached the point in the episode where I am going to reflect.

For the past four episodes on Dumbledore, we spent a lot of time talking about what the text teaches us about him.

His choice is, his strategies, his mistakes brilliant.

But like I did for the Snape episodes, I want these last two Dumbledore episodes to invite us to turn inward.

Somebody just said, oh God, I want to ask what does Dumbledore teach us about ourselves?

Because as much as he is a character in a children's book, I think he also reflects many things for many of us.

And the longer that I've sat with him and read through your responses, both in the survey and in the post episode chat and picked apart his decisions and revisited moments that made him the legend, liar leader that we all know, the more one thing jumps out to me, one theme seems to underline so much of all of those things, and that's fear, and I don't mean fear of Voldemort or fear of death or fear of prophecy.

To me, Dumbledore in bodies one of the most human fears of all, fear of yourself.

And it's ironic, isn't it that one of the most powerful wizards ever to live, someone who we talk about like a general, a mastermind, a wartime leader, was by my estimation, driven, shaped and restrained by fear.

Because when we think of generals, we think of military men, and I use men very particularly in the wizarding world or in our own, we imagine a certain archetype, austere, invincible, invulnerable, unflinching men who walk into death without hesitation, who fear feels irrelevant beneath them.

But what if that's the illusion?

What if the thing that we never pause to consider is that they are terrified and that they simply don't have the space to say so.

Dumbledore operates inside that same impossible box.

He is the strategist, the general, the leader.

We expect to be made of marble instead of flesh, and because of that, we never make room for the possibility that he is fundamentally afraid.

But if I've learned anything over these few weeks studying him with you all.

It's that fear is the backbone of his life.

Fear of power, fear of truth, fear of regret, fear of what he did when he was eighteen, fear of what he might do again.

He tells the world, I don't do well with power.

But I don't think that that's humility, that self preservation dressed up as virtue.

It's him saying I'm afraid of myself.

And it is that fear, more than the brilliance, more than the manipulation that I think drives his decisions.

I think that's why he avoids Grendewald for decades, not because he can't face him, but because he can't face the version of himself that loved him, that was aligned with him ideologically, that was willing to go as far as they had thought about going.

It's why he never intervenes early enough with Tommy Ridds, not because he fails to notice the danger, but because, in many ways, tom Mirror is too much of the magic that Dumbledore once let run wild.

I think it's why he lies to Harry about the mirror of aersaid when Harry asked what he sees, and Dumbledore says a pair of socks.

But Harry knew then, and we I know that what he really sees is a whole family, alive and unbroken.

But he can't name that longing.

He can't name that fear because leaders we tell ourselves, and we tell them they don't get to be afraid.

So here's the real question.

Would we have made room for an afraid Dumbledore?

Would we have trusted him if he told us he was scared, If he had revealed to Harry his trepidation about some of the decisions that he made, If he had revealed to Harry how terrified he was about the poison that was seeping through his body when he put the ring ring on the thin thing.

Would the wizarding world have believed in him if he admitted how human he was, if they had admitted that the mythos, while true, was not the whole story.

And if not, what have we forced him to become instead?

When fear is the one thing you cannot voice, you build entire systems to hide from it.

You become reactive instead of proactive.

You manipulate instead of confessing.

You turn children into soldiers.

Because naming your own vulnerability feels more dangerous than the war you're fighting.

You allow the war to serve as a distraction for all of the things that you're avoiding and running away from.

There's a moment that I keep returning to when Dumbledore drinks that potion in the cave.

The thing that unravels him is not the curse in his hand, or the infury, or the darkness around him, or the fact that he is trying to get a hold of a piece of Voldieva's soul.

It's his truth.

The words he's never said, the fears he's never named, those are the things that break him open.

Those are the things that make him make noises and sounds that Harry had never heard him make.

That potion doesn't force madness onto him, It forces honesty out of him, and it's a reminder of something so deeply, deeply, deeply uncomfortable.

When you spend your life avoiding your fear, it doesn't disappear.

It ferments, it festers, it consumes.

Most of us learn early, especially queer kids, gifted kids, kids who are punished for being too much quote unquote.

But if we just intellectualize everything, if we pretend we aren't afraid, then maybe fear can't touch us, and that's a lie.

Fear always finds a way out.

We all have our own potions, moments, triggers, circumstances that break open what we refuse to share, and what Dumbledore shows us is that if we do not deal with fear when it is small enough to name it, it will become large enough to destroy us.

When I think of Dumbledore at the end of all this, not the myth, not the general, not the grand chess Master, but the man I see someone who let one moment of youthful tragedy dictate the course of an entire century, someone who allowed fear to determine the futures he was brave enough to build, someone who reacted to crisis he could have prevented because proactive leadership required a kind of introspection that he was unwilling to do.

And so the question he leaves us with is not what do we make of Dumbledore?

It's how much of our own lives have been shaped by the fears we refuse to acknowledge.

How many gifts have we hidden, how many futures have we cut short?

How many choices have we avoided because we were afraid of what they might reveal about us.

I remember when I was in graduate school and I got the opportunity to get a job before the official academic job market had begun, and it was a crazy thing and it was kind of nuts.

And for a week before I had to go and do the interview, I was an absolute disaster.

I was a wreck and I couldn't quite figure it out.

I didn't know what was wrong, and I thought, like, why am I such a ball of anxiety?

And it was because I was so afraid that I would do well in the job and that I would get the job, and I was terrified that it would go well, because success is the thing that scares me.

It's the same thing that kept me from really doing this podcast earlier, or it's the same thing that made me feel so terrified about posting online, and it's the thing that I still work on a lot.

And it feels stupid, like what do you mean You're afraid to do well?

And I don't know why.

I don't know, I don't I don't know if it's because I'm afraid that people are going to think that like I'm some sort of ego maniacal disaster.

If I have success, I don't know, but I do know that there have been many moments in my life where I have not done a thing that I probably should have done, I could have done, because I was afraid, like what if it all works out?

What if that thing does happen?

And I know, I know that I'm not alone in this.

I know that it is something that many of us navigate, maybe not fear of success, but fear in general.

That we deny ourselves access to opportunities, to people, to spaces because we were afraid, and we tell ourselves, oh, I don't need that, I'll figure out a way around it, don't worry about it.

We play it off very well.

Some of us are really really good at masking it.

We make it look so good, so did Dumbledore.

Dumbledore made it look like power, he made it look like humility, he made it look like sacrifice, he made it look like strategy.

But at the end of the day, it was all fear.

We've spent the last couple of episodes really reflecting on the way that Dumbledore allowed his own narrative to shape the decisions that he made, and how many of us have done that.

Too.

I know for sure that I have.

Dumbledore is a cautionary tale.

And it's not about power or brilliance or manipulation, though all of those things matter, he said, a cautionary tale about what happens when fear becomes the architect of your life.

Fear doesn't go away.

It waits, it watches, it grows, and unless we name it, unless we sit with it and look at it and admit it, it'll consume us the way that it consumes Dumbledore.

And for me, that's what Dumbledore ultimately teaches us about ourselves, not that we have to be fearless, but we gotta be honest.

Fear doesn't make us weak.

Fear makes us human, and being a human is so scary, right, it's very annoying.

Actually, fear doesn't make us weak.

However, it's the refusal to name it that makes it dangerous, destructive, damning.

This has been another episode of Critical Magic Theory.

I'm Professor Julian Womble, and if you like today's episode, first of all, thank you.

Please fore free to like, rate, subscribe, and do all the things that one does where pods are cast.

Let me tell you something.

My therapist will hear about this, and I will not be hearing anything from you all.

If I have to suffer through thinking through these things, then you have to suffer with me, because that's what community is.

I don't feel bad about it.

Yes, it almost ended me, but I'm still here because I'm a survivor.

Please feel free to join me in the post episode chat where we can discuss this further.

You can yell and scream at me there if you'd like.

If you are a deep diver or chronic overthinker, you can join us on at the discord where they will undoubtedly be playing me alive for this is okay.

We have one more episode, y'all.

Please join us for the post episode chat because I want to hear what you think and I want to incorporate it in the prof response episode.

Until then, be critical and stay magical, my friends.

Bye,