by Matt

When it comes to magical creatures, J K Rowling really does a stellar job. They are colourful, diverse creations, often adapted from pre-existing myths and legends, which are used to great effect. While the dragons, hippogriffs and unicorns are the most noticeable of beasts, every different creature has its own small part to play. Nifflers are no exception.

If you’re an animal lover, the first thing you’ve got to love about Nifflers is how sweet they seem to be. Described in Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them as “fluffy, black and long-snouted” and “gentle and even affectionate”, I’ve always imagined them as a sort of bizarre cross between a big, bouncing, happy puppy and an anteater, nosily sticking its snout into any hole in the ground it can fit it into. When Harry’s class attempt to find buried gold coins with Nifflers (GOF Chapter 29: The Madness of Mr Crouch) Harry’s Niffler is described as “really quite cuddly”, as “it put its long snout in Harry’s ear and sniffed enthusiastically.” All together now, awww, just like a puppy licking your face. How cute.

The fact that Nifflers “can be destructive to belongings” (Fantastic Beasts) just adds another endearing quality to them. Why, you say? Wouldn’t it be pretty irritating if your pet kept wrecking your house? Probably, but that’s never stopped people buying puppies (chewing the tables and chairs) and kittens (scratching apart the sofa) now has it? If anything, it just makes Nifflers pretty plausible, realistic pets, not perfect, unattainable angels on four legs (though I should add, it doesn’t say anywhere in the books that Nifflers do have four legs, though they sound like they would). Personally they remind me of my pet gerbils; very sweet, very affectionate, if only to get a treat (perhaps a pumpkin seed is to a gerbil what Pansy Parkinson’s wristwatch is to a Niffler?) and constantly burrowing and exploring. That, I think, is the main reason that many readers instantly fall in love with Nifflers; they have a tendency to remind people of their own, real life pets.

Nifflers aren’t just arbitrarily thrown in for the sake of being cute. One of the wonderful things with Ms. Rowling’s style of writing is that she never just drops a detail in for the sake of it. Nifflers serve a purpose. At the most basic level, they provide one of those wonderful pieces of detail that make the world of Harry Potter seem that little bit more real; it’s far more satisfying as a reader to hear about Harry’s enjoyable Care of Magical Creatures lesson (in his fourth year, the year of the Blast-Ended Skrewts, they are a rarity for him after all) than purely to hear that he had a lesson and that was that. It allows you to really fall deeply into Harry’s world, because it seems more plausible too. That is why, often, good pieces of fiction will use or mention real events, and should always have believable characters (in this case, creatures).

The Nifflers’ purpose doesn’t end there. They stand out as one of the few non-deadly creatures that Hagrid teaches in his class, which I for one find quite ironic and a little humorous. It’s always far easier to associate Hagrid with creatures that rip the heads off their teddy bears than fluffy, burrowing animals. They also act as a conversation starter, when Hagrid informs Ron that none of the gold coins he found will last, as they are leprechaun gold. This allows Ron’s insecurity about his lack of money to surface, in a book where there has already been tension between Harry and Ron because, according to Hermione, “he’s jealous” (although admittedly not of money). For a second you do wonder if the tension is going to resurface (‘“Must be nice,” said Ron abruptly…”To have so much money you don’t notice if a pocketful of galleons goes missing.”’ GoF Chapter 29). Great character development, and credit to Ron’s character that he doesn’t take it out on Harry. You do have to feel sorry for him though, even J K Rowling did at this point, and the entire conversation wouldn’t have arisen without the Nifflers.

The final point I’m going to make actually concerns the fifth book. By dropping nifflers into book four, Rowling ensures that we know (or can, at least, check) what they are when they resurface in The Order Of The Phoenix. They add a bit of comedy in the most frustrating of the books, whilst admittedly putting Hagrid into an even more precarious position with Umbridge (OotP Chapter 30 Grawp “Umbridge reckons it was me that put tha‘ Niffler in her office.”). It’s hard not to love something that trashes Umbridge’s office. Twice. Now I wonder if I could fit one through the window of my boss’ door?

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