Private Message to Professor Siz
Aug. 3rd, 2015 09:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_linusThank you for the loan of the American Witches books. They were a capital distraction, and the antics of Americans certainly supply fertile ground for drama, however much the books may overflow the cauldron of plausibility. Do they really punish pranks in American academies so severely? Bullying seems a strong term. My father gave me some words of wisdom before I entered Hogwarts, explaining that the Moon line of men were generally two things: high-performing Ravenclaws, and the butt of jokes. Responding to the latter would take time away from achieving the former, and he enjoined me therefore to endure the sneezing hexes and the boots charmed to kick their owner and the pratfall jinxes and the occasional expelliarmus and levicorpus and what-have-you as simply part of the price of being Moon and displaying excellence among the unimaginative, the uncouth, or the unkind.
(The tripping hexes were annoying, but it was really the destruction of parchments and the constant hiding of texts and quills that were quite wearing. And that satchel. I still miss that satchel.)
It is a great relief that things are a bit different here these days. I do not miss the presence of either Crabbe or Goyle, I will say — though not everyone has departed who gleefully hexed me or split their sides laughing when someone else did. The Order of the Phoenix has its own well-esteemed contingent of the uncouth or unkind. Fortunately most of them are kept sufficiently busy by the tasks of consolidating the gains of a successfully fomented revolution that they no longer have dull moments to fill with the apparently delectable pastime of watching a Moon turned upside down after laying bets on how many quills will fall out of his robes.
Father said that the ones who appreciated one’s skills and talents were the ones whose good opinion should carry any weight whatsoever, as all else was piffle and erumpent feathers.
Which brings me to Professor Dolohov, as indeed every third thought seems to, today. He valued my skills and talents, if use is a measure of value. I must confess to having welcomed the encouragement, and admittedly the projects he gave me were as enjoyable as the extra arithmancy puzzlers with which Professor Vector used to reward me, but it was hardly a one-sided exchange.
Did you know he put a geas on me? That’s why I ran out of my detention that time. Our conversation had strayed too close to the topic of a statistical analysis I had done on risk of mortality to Council members as correlated with proximity to specific other Council members, and that triggered the geas, because it was very much something I was not supposed to talk about to anyone but him. It quite worried him at the time. He very nearly obliviated me.He very nearly killed me, actually In the end, he went with a geas against discussing the topic with anyone other than himself, which was, he said, for my own protection, as the subject matter and conclusions were rather... sensitive.
(I no longer have the parchment, or I’d consider updating it with data from recent events. If I ever achieve my daydream of writing a history of the liberation of Albion, perhaps it might make a good appendix.)
Pardon, it is late and I am babbling and do not know what it is I really want to say in any case, and therefore will stop now. At least it was not poetry. Note the efficacy of your tutelage there, Professor.
You miss him too
(The tripping hexes were annoying, but it was really the destruction of parchments and the constant hiding of texts and quills that were quite wearing. And that satchel. I still miss that satchel.)
It is a great relief that things are a bit different here these days. I do not miss the presence of either Crabbe or Goyle, I will say — though not everyone has departed who gleefully hexed me or split their sides laughing when someone else did. The Order of the Phoenix has its own well-esteemed contingent of the uncouth or unkind. Fortunately most of them are kept sufficiently busy by the tasks of consolidating the gains of a successfully fomented revolution that they no longer have dull moments to fill with the apparently delectable pastime of watching a Moon turned upside down after laying bets on how many quills will fall out of his robes.
Father said that the ones who appreciated one’s skills and talents were the ones whose good opinion should carry any weight whatsoever, as all else was piffle and erumpent feathers.
Which brings me to Professor Dolohov, as indeed every third thought seems to, today. He valued my skills and talents, if use is a measure of value. I must confess to having welcomed the encouragement, and admittedly the projects he gave me were as enjoyable as the extra arithmancy puzzlers with which Professor Vector used to reward me, but it was hardly a one-sided exchange.
Did you know he put a geas on me? That’s why I ran out of my detention that time. Our conversation had strayed too close to the topic of a statistical analysis I had done on risk of mortality to Council members as correlated with proximity to specific other Council members, and that triggered the geas, because it was very much something I was not supposed to talk about to anyone but him. It quite worried him at the time. He very nearly obliviated me.
(I no longer have the parchment, or I’d consider updating it with data from recent events. If I ever achieve my daydream of writing a history of the liberation of Albion, perhaps it might make a good appendix.)
Pardon, it is late and I am babbling and do not know what it is I really want to say in any case, and therefore will stop now. At least it was not poetry. Note the efficacy of your tutelage there, Professor.
no subject
on 2015-08-04 01:07 pm (UTC)I'm thinking about how to talk about the question of bullying. I'll come back to it.
I had not realised he had set a geas. But, yes, that would have been a very dangerous sort of document, indeed. A very dangerous set of thoughts, for all you aren't the only one to think about that kind of thing.
I was, for a long while, keeping record of the times someone was called to court and then turned up dead unexpectedly, and worrying over how the intervals between were getting smaller and smaller and smaller, but not at all predictably. An erratic orbit. Also dangerous to contemplate.
Cedric and I started looking at his office and rooms yesterday. It will take a long time to unpick all the warding and protections, but I will see if anything about it turns up. If you feel inclined to other statistical charting of that kind, talk to me first, please?
no subject
on 2015-08-04 03:47 pm (UTC)Those are his own words to me, when we discussed -- ever so obliquely, which is a neat trick if one can do it -- my stealing something from him.
Let me retrace my steps and start from somewhere with a more panoramic view. It was for that blasted challenge, back last year. Can it have been only last year? Merlin. In any case, Montague, my sponsor in the challenge, required that I steal something from either Professor Dolohov or from
Oh, Professor Siz. I am so sorry! About your party last year, when my brother-in-law, in his cups, fell into your sculpture and chaos ensued. I must confess and throw myself on your mercy! That isn't exactly how it happened, and it was my fault, as I was taking part in that aforementioned blasted challenge. I ruined your sculpture and stole the Snitch that had represented the Sun. Jason Montague said I had to steal something valuable from either Professor Dolohov or from you and Professor Raz, and the sculpture was a gift from the Malfoys and from a noted artist and therefore valuable, but I knew you didn't like it very much, so it was perfect. Oh, Professor Siz, I am so sorry
But you and Cedric must absolutely be careful when approaching any of Professor Dolohov's items, because there are quite a number of them which are bespelled, cursed, warded, or a combination thereof! He said as much when we were delicately not-discussing why it was probably an extremely inadviseable idea for me to attempt pilferage from him at the behest of my sponsor.
I think he thought it was funny, actually. But he was serious about the dangers.
And I am so sorry.
no subject
on 2015-08-04 05:05 pm (UTC)He never took me off the wards on his personal rooms.As to the sculpture, please, do not worry about it. It was a present from the Malfoys, but it was
It was very well meant.
Only, we put it there for the party rather in hopes something unfortunate would happen to it.
As to the advice you got, quite. My things are rather less likely to have a nasty bite than his. Given the number of entirely unreasonable tasks you were all asked to do, I think that you did very well choosing what you did, under the circumstances.