Shades of the prison house, as Wordsworth reminds us, begin to close upon the growing boy - and, if Rowling's novel is to believed, on the growing boy-wizard as well. Just turned thirteen and now embarking on his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter finds himself increasingly and frighteningly haunted by the tragic mystery which, when he was a child, had surrounded the murder of his parents.
The shadows cast by these memories and the darkness into which he is led in his attempt to resolve the mystery dominate his story, resulting in a novel more sombre, but no less entertaining, than its highly successful predecessors.
Hogwarts is a remarkable institution. Its imaginative realisation on the page must count as one of Rowling's greatest attainments, not least because, whatever about the oddness of its staff, students and curriculum, it remains so recognisably a school. Presided over by Albus Dumbledore, its wise Arnoldian headmaster, this is a place where friendships and rivalries flourish, where study and recreation compete for student time, where loyalty and honour are tested. And yes, even in subjects such as Divination, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, there are examinations: no Honours Leaving Certificate, perhaps, but, by way of equivalent, the NEWTs, the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests.
It is in the Hogwarts classrooms, dormitories and corridors that the principal events of the young wizards' lives are played out. But to these must be added the playing fields, setting for some of Rowling's most brilliant pages. Here, the various school houses participate in the fast-flowing broomstick sport of Quidditch, a seven-a-side game played with incredible dexterity and life-threatening passion. This is where Harry, in his role as "seeker" on the Gryffindor House team, has previously distinguished himself, even if his is the hardest job of all. Accordingly, as the new Quidditch season starts, there is a reputation to be maintained and, eventually, Harry will be seen to disappoint neither his team mates nor his readers.
On his first outing, however, he is subject to one of the harrowing visitations which periodically confront him, on this occasion totally marring his sporting performance. It is as if a cold wave engulfs him, as he finds himself surrounded by the creatures known as Dementors, who have the nightmarish ability to suck all hope and goodness from their prey. In Harry's case, these various manifestations revive half-remembered sights and sounds of his parents' deaths, most horrifically his mother's screams: "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" There are chilling fears to be conquered here and relationships with the dead to be explored and settled.
Central to these developments is young Harry's growing understanding of the precise role played in earlier traumatic events by the "prisoner" of the book's title, the apparently treacherous Sirius Black. Why has he escaped from the dreaded Azkaban prison to sneak his way into Hogwarts? Initially, the case against him seems unassailable, such is the tangle of accusation and counter-accusation in which he is enmeshed. But by the time the school year ends, duplicity and lying have been defeated and Harry has found an unexpected new ally.
At a time when much writing for children is premised on the assumption that the young can cope only with the shortest words and the briefest attention-spans, it is refreshing to welcome a book which makes no such concessions but which instead delivers a good, old-fashioned and challenging story. For once, the pre-publication hype has been justified. This is, simply, a wizard book.
Robert Dunbar lectures in English at the Church of Ireland College of Education, Dublin