By setting the game in the 1800s, the developer is able to borrow story elements and locations from later in the timeline, but otherwise tell a new story free of canon constraints. Adopting the role of a witch or wizard of your creation, players arrive at Hogwarts as a new student joining the fifth-year class. Circumstances rapidly develop that challenge you to balance your matriculation with a grand extra-curricular adventure involving dark wizards, dangerous goblins, and an ancient form of lost magic. The storytelling sometimes serves as an excuse to hit big beats players expect, like a triumphant ride on a hippogriff or an amusing excursion through the castle while shapeshifted into a humorous character. If the overarching narrative sometimes feels a little flimsy as a result, it’s buoyed by uniformly excellent dialogue and voice acting that carries the action forward, as well as a standout musical score.
From the armor suits that come to attention as you pass to books that fly around like birds waiting to be snatched from the air, Hogwarts is a delightful environment to explore. It’s not hard to understand why characters in the books were always getting into trouble outside class; it’s nearly impossible not to get distracted from your path to education by a side quest, collectible chase, or other activity. Secret doors and discoveries are everywhere, as are plentiful relationships with the young students and eccentric faculty. That dynamic extends beyond the labyrinthine corridors of the castle to the large open world beyond its grounds. The outdoor environs are filled with beasts to tame, dungeons to tackle, and chances to hop on your broom to zip across the countryside.
Hogwarts Legacy is alive with magic. It’s a massive and gorgeous open-world RPG that extends far beyond the walls of the wizarding school, with mysteries, danger and cute creatures packed into every corner. Casting spells quickly becomes second nature in this environment and when it comes to puzzles, my magical instincts are often correct and richly rewarded. Combat involves intricate spellwork and lightning-quick responses, and this combination consistently results in a seamless, satisfying flow. I feel powerful while playing
Hogwarts Legacy. I feel like a witch — and that’s all I’ve ever really wanted.
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The main storylines in
Hogwarts Legacy are generic fantasy platforms. Two main arcs collide: one pits players against goblin revolutionaries planning to destroy wizardkind, and the other is an extensive investigation of an ancient and powerful magic — the same magic that you, the main character, can uniquely wield. The latter arc will be painfully familiar to Harry Potter fans, as it involves a bunch of old farts repeatedly throwing a child into deadly situations while withholding crucial information and stroking their long white beards. I guess we know where Dumbledore got it from.
Personally, I don’t love the focus on the Goblin Rebellions. It’s functional as a basic fantasy premise, but it’s an obvious choice for a Harry Potter prequel and the game hasn’t yet demonstrated that it was a particularly thoughtful decision. The conceit so far is, “goblins are bad, wizardkind is good,” and there hasn’t been an intricate discussion about class, power and revolution within this framework, though these opportunities are prevalent. Regardless of how this storyline concludes, I would’ve appreciated a more nuanced approach or an original enemy.
There are valid questions about whether the depiction of goblins in Harry Potter is inherently antisemitic, or the result of centuries of European fiction that coded vampires, dwarves and other creatures with its authors’ antisemitism. What you need to know is that goblins in
Hogwarts Legacy are not meaningfully different to those in the novels, so your stance on the issue is unlikely to shift with this presentation.
Unfortunately, this trip to Hogwarts comes with some heavy baggage. While
Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling was not directly involved in the game's production (though her creative agency was), the controversy over comments she made that have been
read by many as transphobic has led to ongoing
calls for a boycott.
Hogwarts Legacy does feature the franchise's first trans character, but trans advocates and allies criticized her inclusion as a token attempt to
head off backlash.
The controversy has fueled
deeply-divided reactions to the game, even as it broke
pre-sale and Twitch viewership records. For this review, we'll focus on the merits of the game itself, but Rowling's stance and her financial
ties to the Wizarding World (she'll stand to benefit from sales) remain.
The game is mid at best, and its real-world harms are impossible to ignore.
The story is rooted in anti-Semitic tropes. The gameplay feels dated. The graphics feel like they’re a couple generations behind. All the characters are one-dimensional. It doesn’t stay true to the established lore. Every character feels like an off-brand version of the characters we know and love. There’s no sense of place. No magic, no heart.
Nothing with a Wizarding World stamp on it can be viewed outside the context of it being a product of Dame J. K. Rowling, CH, OBE.
Within the pages of her books, she made the ordinary seem extraordinary. She created a place where weird lonely kids would be told they were special, where kids who had survived abuse were more than just fundamentally broken. Since 2019 though, the once-beloved children’s author has—well,
she’s had some opinions. About people like me. And
whether or not we should exist. She’s even gone as far as to
suggest that we’re inherently dangerous, a threat to real (ouch) women everywhere.
When I was a kid, every word that flowed from J. K. Rowling’s pen wrote magic into my world, but now every word she puts out just hurts my heart. Every homophobic or transphobic thing queer kids hear growing up becomes a voice that follows them for a long time. We hear relatives, friends, and parents say awful things about us and to us. For a lot of us, we fight those voices every day. When one of those voices comes from the author who taught you about accepting yourself, a person you thought
truly saw you and kids like you, it hurts in a way I honestly hope she never understands. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I don’t hate her. It would honestly be easier if I did. Inside me somewhere, there’s a kid who still loves her despite everything. That kid has a lot of experience loving people who hurt her. She never asks why; she just wants to know what she did wrong and how she can fix it. It’s hard to tell her there’s nothing left to fix. And that there are places we can’t return to. Places like Hogwarts.