I had a stray thought today while reading the various theories of Sirius being poisoned, mostly about why I like

Personally, in case anyone's interested, I don't think Sirius was poisoned, nor do I think he was acting reckless when he died. I tend to think that line about the potion is there so that *Harry* can start suspecting Snape of doing some reckless poisoning later, if it's there for any reason at all. Or perhaps the potion will come up later. Heh. It's like fanfic. Everybody knows when Snape introduces a potion in class *somebody* will be accidentally ingesting it by the end of the fic, and it will probably lead to sex somehow.

Anyway, one thing that's been brought up with regards to Snape poisoning someone is his not eating any food at Grimmauld Place--something one might avoid if one knew the food was poisoned. I think again, that would be a little too obvious, like in We Have Always Lived In The Castle when a character is widely considered a murderer because her family was poisoned through the sugar bowl and everyone knows Constance never takes sugar. Regardless, what's interesting is how the topic of Snape's not eating has become an issue.

Technically, I don't think we know he doesn't eat anything at Grimmauld Place, though I suspect he doesn't. I think we're just told he "never stays for dinner." People have said, reasonably, that he doesn't stay for dinner because he doesn't want to socialize with these people any more than he has to. For all we know he's also got a truckload of other responsibilities somewhere. Maybe he's moonlighting at a fast food place in Hogsmeade. We don't know.

But I realized another reason I like the idea of Snape not eating at the place. I'm pretty sure there's a passage in The Count of Monte Cristo, that deals with the hero not eating. Now, I read CoMC (hmm. same initials as Care of Magical Creatures...) in French so for all I know I made up the entire scene through my bad translation and Edmund really refused to remove his galoshes indoors, but I seem to remember that what happened was the Count went to a party at the home of his former fiancé and her husband, one of the conspirators who got him sent to prison for 19 years. Mercedes, his former love, recognizes him as Edmund. She keeps the secret but gets very upset when he refuses an hors d'oeuvre. I mean, seriously upset. She's just frantic that he try her canapé--wtf?

Later it's revealed this is because refusing to eat is a point of honor--you do not accept food in your enemy's house. It appears to be something one could start a duel with if one wanted. Now, it's kind of funny to draw a parallel between Snape and Edmund, since in this story the character most like Edmund would be the guy who spent 13 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit and then broke out. Snape isn't responsible for putting Sirius in prison, though, and Sirius doesn't seem much for archaic traditions. Snape, otoh, I can definitely see holding a Monte Cristo-type grudge and privately vowing never to eat food served in the house of his enemy. Not that anyone would notice--well, other Slytherins might, but they’re not going to be invited to dinner by Molly either.

Snape is, after all, the character in canon who feels bound by a life debt because James Potter was moved to stop a prank by his best friend that never should have happened to begin with--I suspect if there were a fair court of law about such things Snape would be cleared of any life debtedness. Harry, by contrast, appears to feel under no such obligation to Snape for his protection. So if somebody were going to do something like this it would be Snape, imo. I doubt this was the author's intention, but it just seems very Snape to me.
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


Okay, now I'm totally running that fanfic possibility through my head. Thanks!

I definitely agree mentioning the potion and later finding out it was used is very JKR--when I read the book I completely thought that's where it was going and that Kreacher was going to turn out to have poisoned Sirius, but I prefer the idea that whatever Sirius was going through was just what he was going through. I agree with someone somewhere else who pointed out that far from being befuddled Sirius was all-too-aware of exactly where he was and what his prospects were.

With regards to Snape--exactly. Can you imagine him having to sit at dinner with kids who treat him with disrespect as well as adults? If I were him I can imagine just taking the position of, "You're only asking me to dinner for politeness sake, so I will politely refuse."

From: [identity profile] tasogare-n-hime.livejournal.com


Your wellcome :)

Sirius did seem like was just in a rut throughout the book. one of the thing that bothers me about OoTP is that with all the magic we've already seen NO ONE seemed to know a way to make Sirius useful, or just aleviate his stress. They just let him rot away in that house and in some cases even contributed to the problem.

The first time I read OoTP when we found out Snape didn't eat there I remeber thinkg "Yeah if I was him I wouldn't want to eat with you guy ether." so fining out people thought he was poisining Sirius because of thet was kind of a shock.

From: [identity profile] arclevel.livejournal.com


one of the thing that bothers me about OoTP is that with all the magic we've already seen NO ONE seemed to know a way to make Sirius useful, or just aleviate his stress. They just let him rot away in that house and in some cases even contributed to the problem.

In various discussions recently, we've talked about how the wizarding world takes an astonishingly low view on emotional trauma. That is, they basically deny that it exists or else blame the victim. I think it's really interesting because so much magic is directly related to emotions and/or the psyche -- dementors and patronuses, boggart defense, Occlumency, spells to control people or alter memories -- yet we get the impression that psychology is a completely foreign concept to them. Certainly people have made observations here and there, but apparently no in-depth studies of the question, or if they did they were ignored.

From: [identity profile] neotoma.livejournal.com


In a world where you *can* alter memories, why would you keep ones of emotional trauma? Frankly, I'm surprised that the standard wizarding treatment for abuse/trauma isn't a cup of hot chocolate and a nice strong Obliviate.

I also want to know who besides Voldemort and Dumbledore are Legillimens? Since Voldemort was able to place false images in Harry's mind, it seems that Legillimency is an *incredibly* dangerous skill to have floating around the population. If you can make false memories for someone, wouldn't you be able to *literally* change their mind until they agreed with you by planting false memories and perceptions on them? You wouldn't *need* Imperius to get people to obey you, you'd could just go and tinker with their heads.

From: [identity profile] arclevel.livejournal.com


The idea that they *would* do something like that completely horrifies me, but I think you're right that it's a bit surprising they don't, given this world.

From: [identity profile] dphearson.livejournal.com


If you can make false memories for someone, wouldn't you be able to *literally* change their mind until they agreed with you by planting false memories and perceptions on them?

This is precisely what Severus tells Harry at the begining of the Occulemency lessons- that his feelings and anger over his memories was used as a weapon against him, and that he was seduced into thinking the Dark Lord would make him feel better.

From: [identity profile] dphearson.livejournal.com


In various discussions recently, we've talked about how the wizarding world takes an astonishingly low view on emotional trauma.

Not to seem like a xenophobic jerk, but this is something that seems to have been part of British makeup until relatively recently- ignoring cruelty even as it happens in front of your face, and dimissing terrible events in the past as 'oh well, that was then and this is now." That these people act this way, and that they are surprised at the turn that life does to them, is very Victorian British era attitude.
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


It's definitely a feature of boarding school fiction, it seems to me. For instance, I was recently reading Waugh's "Decline and Fall" and the accidental maiming and eventual death of one of the students at field day is a running joke. It's one of the conventions that school is incredibly harsh--I also remember a Michael Palin sketch where they talk about how there was an annual thing where underclassmen were literally nailed to the walls as part of the tradition.

What I think causes discussion in these books-as always-is a sort of mixing of genres, so sometimes it's cartoonish and other times not.

From: [identity profile] arclevel.livejournal.com


I do agree. Unfortunately, I think looking at them that way is impossible for any reasonable analysis. As such, I tend to take the cartoonish more seriously than it's intended. But really, if we're going to take Hermione being turned into a statue seriously (as we clearly do), then we have to take seriously Draco being turned into a ferret or Dudley being given a 10-foot tongue. (Of course, the easy answer is not to analyze, but we all obviously gave *that* up long ago.)
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


we have to take seriously Draco being turned into a ferret

God, and that scene isn't even described cartoonishly, imo. He's a small animal squealing in pain being thrown violently against stone. I can't think about it without imagining a ferret with a broken back.

Yes, that's exactly the thing. I think you have to take the cartoonish violence somewhat seriously--in re-reading OotP I'm thinking how interesting it would be to look at violence throughout the books and see when people act like someone seems to really be hurt and when they're not and why. Hermione (and the other Muggleborns)being frozen is very serious, McGonnogal hit by four stunning spells is serious. Dudley's tongue is not serious (though Mr. Weasley calls it Muggle-baiting afterwards, so it is even taken seriously afterwards in canon), Slytherins hit by multiple hexes is funny.

From: [identity profile] arclevel.livejournal.com


I agree. I believe it says he was being thrown ten feet in the air -- aren't ferrets generally less than 6" high by 18" long? That's the equivalent of a 5'5" human (lying on the their stomach) being rapidly flung up and down more than 36 feet. Three stories. Repeatedly. Landing full force on solid stone every time.

No, the way it's described isn't at all cartoonish, unlike the attacks on Dudley in SS and GoF. And Malfoy and co's reactions aren't at all cartoonish, unlike the Dursleys'. Yet Ron calls it "the best moment of my life." Harry apparently agrees it's hilarious. Hermione is a bit worried, but gets over it quickly and repeatedly brings it up to taunt Malfoy. And there's little doubt in my mind that we, the readers, are supposed to think it's incredibly funny. Thinking about it more, this disconnect between showing it seriously, but planning it as humor, may be the most disturbing thing about it.
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


Hermione is a bit worried, but gets over it quickly and repeatedly brings it up to taunt Malfoy.

And she never frames it in terms of Malfoy being hurt. I would need to check the scene, but I always remember feeling she was more shocked that a teacher would do this, not that it was cruel. I think she says something like, "It's good, though, that McGonnogal stopped it." It's like her sense of order in schools and teacher's behavior has been shaken--she knows there's something "off" in the scene.

But she doesn't go into protective!Hermione mode. She doesn't herself yell, "Oh my god, stop it!" as many girls would (perhaps Lavender had she walked up at the right moment). The students are probably mostly in shock or don't know how to react, but Hermione's tepid response never sounds very confident and she easily lets it slide, presumably since it's Malfoy. I immediately thought of that when she realizes the right thing to do with Montague is to tell someone what happened to him, but there again she easily lets the idea, which I doubt she would if it were a "good" person. After all, this is the person who smartly decided to hand Harry's broom over for testing because she knew even if it would make him angry, his safety was at stake.

From: [identity profile] arclevel.livejournal.com


Her wording, both here and re Montague, seems to show some concern; what you quoted is preceded by "Malfoy could really have been hurt." Nonetheless, the speed with with she drops the subject is so fast, it's almost like she was just mentioning a stray thought, not that she actually gives a damn. I think even more in line with what you said is her reaction to knocking out Snape in the Shrieking Shack: "Oh, no, we've attacked a teacher, we're going to be in so much trouble." Never mind that a person appears injured. They attacked a teacher. That isn't done! And they could get in trouble! (Except, of course, that it's them, so obviously they won't.)
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


It's kind of sad that I didn't remember Hermione mentioning Malfoy could have been hurt. I think I completely forgot it because my whole memory of that scene was that that wasn't an issue. It is like the Snape scene--and also Montague's. There too Hermione is voicing concern as she's asking whether they should help out because Montague is clearly still suffering. It's just maybe that there's no emotion behind that idea the way there often is with Hermione--like if Harry had been hurt she'd probably have been crying and furious.

From: [identity profile] slinkhard.livejournal.com


I prefer the idea that whatever Sirius was going through was just what he was going through.

Oh yes. It's so lame, no matter who it's applied to (Sirius, even Harry) - like, all the reasons behind their unhappiness, and the way despite their ultimate heroics, they were both destructive and at times cruel to the people around them?
Not their fault! It wuz a potion!111
It's like, wtf? The good guys don't even have to take responsibility for their feelings, now, let alone their actions?
Of course, that just reminds me of all those arguments - Harry wasn't jealous of Ron! Sirius wasn't mean to Harry! Or if they were, it wasn't their fault! Snape made them feel that way, clearly!
Makes me want to write one of those godawful fics about how Draco/Lucius/Pansy/Insert Baddie Here isn't really nasty. They've just been under the Imperius. Their whole lives. Or something.
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


Then there's one of my pet peeve theories, which seems to have a lot of respect in fandom and may very well turn out to be canon--that Neville has never really had trouble with anything, he's just been struggling with unknown obstacles outside his control. For instance, he forgets things because he was obliviated to forget watching his parents get tortured/himself being tortured as a baby, or he can't do charms because he had his father's wand and that somehow caused him to appear incompetent.

I hate these things for so many reasons. First the obliviate is just ridiculous. Not only would Neville be easily young enough to forget this stuff on his own, but a) if he were there the DEs surely would have tortured him rather than his parents because it would be more effective and b) if they did torture him why, pray tell, is he not in St. Mungo's with them? But besides that what's wrong with his just being bad at things? It's like if you like a character they have to be incredibly talented at everything. It would be like Neville being taken out of the remedial class-oh no, you were always one of the "special" kids-leaving the others behind. Honestly, sometimes it seems like Ron and Draco are the only kids who are allowed to just not be the best at things--though in Draco's case it's sometimes the opposite and he has to be shown to be *below* average in everything (he's not really competent at Quidditch, must have blackmailed his way to get prefect, probably doesn't do well in school at all...).

From: [identity profile] slinkhard.livejournal.com


That's why I don't particularly like the resolutions for Neville and Ron in OotP.
Especially that part where McGonagall, usually strict to the point where she appears disgusted by weakness (her description of Peter, her treatment of Neville in PoA and even GoF when she asks him, basically, not to let on how incompetent he is to the visitors); is all 'Your problem is a lack of confidence.'
I mean, that's so general it could apply to anyone and anything. Not good at science? Lack of confidence. Bad at sports? Ditto.
It's this idea that there are always excuses made for the 'good' guys (ironic, considering the reputation Slytherin fans have as 'apologists'!) - Harry didn't get picked for sports in primary? OMG, it can't be because he was no good. He's liek rilly fast, it's just that everyone was scared of Dudley.
(skelkins actually wrote an essay on Calvinism in this series, which touches on this point. http://elkins.theennead.com/hp/archives/000149.html#top)

Hermione suffers from the terrible prejudice against muggleborns (which is never ever shown. Why, it's just like racism, as JKR compares it. Except we've never seen any indication that Muggleborns suffer either judicially (are more Muggleborns convicted/sentenced for longer?) or financially (are Muggleborns hired for less jobs? Is there a glass ceiling for them specifically?) But one person called her a derogatory name, so she is clearly TEH OPPRESSED) but is in actual fact, extremely talented at magic.
Someone actually explained their problem with this theme, and D/Hr as a ship in specific:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/ataniell93/287658.html?thread=1867690#t1867690

"Draco sees value in *Hermione* in this ship, not every other Gryffindor and Muggleborn who ever walked! He would either de-Muggle her by self-arguing about how *very* Wizardish she is, how bright she is, how much-- essentially-- she's not what she really is. Or else it would be how the rest of her category suffers in comparison to her-- Muggleborns are all that much worse because they're not only mudblooded, but *stupid* compared to his girlfriend."

Likewise, Neville fails not because he is cowardly (heavens forbid, a flaw!) or untalented, but because he lacks confidence.
And as soon as he meets the standards of Harry and co by succeeding in duelling and hexing as opposed to Herbology which has no value in their eyes; he's suddenly able to accomplish wondrous feats. Aren't you relieved that he wasn't something icky, like stupid? Now he can go around attacking people like the rest of them - KEWL!

But of course, it doesn't apply both ways - Crabbe and Goyle for example? They don't suffer from low self esteem. They're just dumb. Yuck.
And even though it's shallow to judge others by looks (the presentation of Veela for example, or sexualised females in general)? Hermione is actually really pretty. Not Pansy though. Not that it's important to be female and attractive. Just that Pansy isn't, Hermione is.
Convenient, that.

Ron isn't quite so grievous an example (maybe because he's pureblood, and they're all stupid/ugly etc.) but still, the Quidditch match kind of irritated me. Not so much the chant change (although that was so twee it reminded me of a book in the 'Sweet Valley Twins: Unicorn Club: The Crazy Eights who are the Unicorn's sworn enemies, challenge our heroes to a bet. The Unicorns' stakes are that the loser has to sing 'Puff the Magic Dragon' in the cafeteria. Unfortunately, the Unicorns lose (it's a 'How much do you know about your friends?' quiz. Luckily, they realise that they lost because they're more individual ((and thus, better ;)) than the Eights!) and have to sing. However, they turn the tables on those mean old 8s and perform a 'cool' rap, to the acclaim of the school.
And now I've frightened myself ;)
But just the 'Look, Ron was just intimidated by Fred and George. And Harry's talent. Once they were all gone, it turns out he's really good!'
Again, it doesn't work both ways - Draco's not intimidated by Harry, or Flint, or his father. He's just not as good. Ew.
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


Ugh. That's exactly it--and I am so looking forward to the Calvinism essay. *rubs hands together*

As I think Elkins said in her other essay about Neville, the frustrating thing isn't that Neville must be useless, because he's *not*. It's that he must turn out to be exactly like the "right" people in order to prove it. What's particularly annoying to me is that hey, there are things I suck at. I always think of potions as being a lot like chemistry and I could. not. do. chemistry. at. all. There were subjects I was good at, just as Neville is good at herbology. He doesn't have to become super good at duelling, particularly not because *boom* this year he's going to be good at duelling (I mean, c'mon, was he not working hard before? Is Harry that much of a better teacher? Is it his new bloodlust that makes him suddenly quicker on his feet?). I'd appreciate it more, frankly, if Neville worked hard and didn't become that much of a star and still had problems--while meanwhile just having the talents he actually does have and growing in those.

From: [identity profile] arclevel.livejournal.com


I like Neville, and always have. I thought McGonagall said his problem was a lack of concentration, not confidence, but either way, this was pretty close to my (and others') theory before OotP came out, but it had nothing to do with excusing/denying Neville's problems. The opposite, if anything. Basically, the idea was that Neville was seen as a very weak wizard and called himself "nearly a Squib." But that was nonsense. He frequently screwed things up, but he did so in dramatic fashion -- things exploded, table legs disappeared. IOW, lots and lots of power, absolutely no control. Which is, indeed, his own fault (though there were also psychological theories about said lack of control). Except, of course, that using someone else's wand really *could* lead to being unusually bad; I don't like that reason, but it is at least partly canon. (I wonder how many people start their Hogwarts career with a hand-me-down wand? We know of at least two.)

I also don't like the idea of Neville conforming to other people's standards of what's right or great. I could theorize that his dueling improvement is, as Harry noted, due to motivation from the Lestranges' escape, but he was improving noticeably before that. I have no theories beyond the fact that teenagers can change drastically.

I don't like the memory charm, but it seems like something that "helpful" wizards would do. Though I agree that if Neville was there, they'd have tortured him.
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From: [identity profile] sistermagpie.livejournal.com


My problem isn't that Neville can't improve at things since hard work and concentration could be worked on. Neville already has done that--he excels in herbology, he's not completely hopeless at everything. There's times when he's more suave than Harry and Ron and that doesn't bother me. But I admit I will dislike his character immensely if it turns out he was really superior and artificially held back either through memory charms, the wrong wand, or just suddenly clicking maybe because it fits into Elkins' essay too well. My biggest struggle with Neville is that I like him personally as a character but always find myself pulling against the lesson he seems to be about in canon--sometimes he's like the broccoli of the Potterverse to me. So I'd prefer if the parts of Neville that I do like were the ones that ultimately defined him and not the storylines that make me think broccoli.

From: [identity profile] jodel-from-aol.livejournal.com


My own take on Neville is that he didn't want to be a wizard at all. and really *wanted* to be let off the hook and sent home because he *couldn't cut it*. Up to year 5 every time he opened his mouth he was (hopefully?) reminding people that he was "practically a Squib".

Of course his methods for convincing people that he was useless only served to point out that he had all the power any normal wizard actually needs, he just wouldn't settle down and make proper use of it. The people who saw through the duffer act were highly annoyed. McGonagall was throughly exasperated by it, and it got right up Snape's nose and drove him nuts.

The forgetfullness is a different issue. I think that Neville was accustomed to spending most of his time off in his own little world and either things didn't get through in the first place, or he would check right back out and forget them.

We never got a chance to see his Road to Damascus moment. But he had one, and I think it was some way through year 4 , quite possibly over something to do with Crouch/Moody. Somewhere in that time period, it finally sank in that he was a wizard, he wasn't going to be let off the hook, and he had to learn to protect himself in the only way available to wizards. By getting control of his own magic.

I've an essay on Neville over on Red Hen that goes into this at greater length.
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