Crouch; Next Headmaster?

Hillman, Lee lee_hillman at urmc.rochester.edu
Thu Jul 12 13:21:56 UTC 2001


No: HPFGUIDX 22405

Jenny from Ravenclaw wrote:
> 
> It's interesting that you think that because I thought Crouch Sr. was 
> awful.  I disliked right away him for not even making an effort to 
> know Percy's name.  Percy was working his little tuchas off 
> to impress 
> him and Crouch was cold and distant.  Percy is also the son 
> of someone 
> Crouch has been working with for years.  Yuck for Crouch.
> 

I agree that Crouch is an officious snob. But I think it's important to
remember here that Crouch had an assistant (at the time of his rise to chief
of Magical Law Enforcement) named Weatherby. And although Crouch Sr. himself
wasn't under the Imperius yet (not until after the Cup), I believe that in
order to keep the curse in effect, part of one's concentration must be
focused on controlling the other party at all times (though how he did it
when he was asleep I don't know--maybe he Stupefied Jr. and then took a
nap?). So for years, Crouch has subsumed part of his concentration to
keeping his son under a curse (which is skanky, agreed, but we see in
hindsight necessary). It's thus understandable, though no less bombastic,
that he would get confused about little details like his new (and
insufferably overzealous--I love Percy, but let's not kid ourselves, he's a
mite too excited about cauldron thickness) assistant's name. What gets me is
Percy's father is right there, and Crouch _knows_ who Arthur is: can't he
see the resemblance? Again, I chalk it up (in retrospect, not at the time)
to distraction over keeping mental track of Barty Jr.

> 
> I don't recall Crouch rushing to his wife's aid when she fainted at 
> their son's trial.  

Ah, no, but he was proving a point to and about his son: zero tolerance for
DE association. I don't think he missed it, despite what the book says ("He
appeared not to have noticed," Ch. 30); I think he (sadly) decided the trial
bore higher priority. He strikes me as the kind of person who tries to
compartmentalize his emotions: at that moment, he was supposed to act like
an impartial judge, not to be swayed by emotional outbursts from either the
alleged criminals or their families. As a judge, he could have ordered
mediwizards or bailiffs to see to her (which he should have done). But does
this attempt to cordon off his gut response work? Actually, I think it
doesn't entirely. 

On a quick re-read, I think he may have been quite influenced by his wife's
fainting--he abruptly ends the trial then and there, losing his temper and
ordering the prisoners taken away. Perhaps this is so he can free himself to
rush over to his wife? We don't know, because it's right about then that
Dumbledore arrives and pulls Harry out of the Pensieve. But I can understand
this method of response: end one's responsibility as quickly as possible, so
that one can take off that public face and deal with the personal. 

I've encountered many situations in life when the only acceptable public
reaction to something is not to react, but to push through and get out of
the fishbowl as soon as possible in order to allow the personal to take over
again. [To give you an example: a couple years ago, I was "on stage" at a
Medieval reenactment event, serving as part of the "court." This meant that
about 150 people or more could see me, my face, my reactions, and I had to
remain neutral while I watched. During the course of that court, the King
and Queen issued awards to two people whom I loathed (for extremely
justified reasons that we need not go into here). Suffice to say, I steeled
myself for the recognition they received and tried not to show my distaste
for the proceedings. To do otherwise would have been inappropriate. A few
minutes later, when the King and Queen called me before them, I could let
down that "public face" and allow my emotions to take over--I could
"legitimately" cry, because my tears could tactfully be taken for joy and
surprise and generally being overwhelmed by the fact that I, too, was
receiving an award. Now, of the people who were in that room, probably about
half of them knew full well that was NOT the reason I was crying, but I held
back from the emotional reaction until such time as I could provide a
plausible explanation for losing it.]

I think Crouch, in his way, does the same type of thing. Crouch is about
saving face. The inner dialogue could have been, "Oh, hell, she's fainted.
It's all Barty's fault. See what he's done to his mother? I must get him the
hell out of my sight before I kill him myself. What else? What has to be
done? Right, end the session. Good. Now, anything else? Hang on, sweetheart,
here I come...."

Though that may be giving the man too much credit, but I think even
officious, overbearing social-climbing politicos have the capacity to love.

  
> I didn't see 
> Crouch as granting the wish of his closest loved one, I saw him as 
> doing something self-serving.  I'm not sure what - perhaps he was 
> afraid his son would escape from Azkaban or perhaps he felt 
> guilty for 
> placing his son there to begin with.  

I think there's a little of both of these, and still room to grant his
wife's dying wish. People are generally more complex than one emotion or
another, and in fact are quite capable of feeling paradoxical emotions. Look
at Snape.
 

> Either way, Crouch Jr hated his father, and people generally don't hate
their parents for no > reason.


Sure, but remember that Crouch Jr. got involved as a teenager. Teens rebel.
They do things on purpose to tick off their parents. They hate their
parents, their parents don't understand them, their world is so much more
complicated that anyone else's. Crouch Jr.'s emotional development got stuck
at 19 when he went to Azkaban. If Sirius could keep going there because of
the hate he felt for Pettigrew, isn't it reasonable to figure that Crouch
Jr. survived by giving reign to his hatred for his father? That hate has
grown from a teen's rebellion to a legitimate,
"My-father-completely-screwed-me-over" hatred and has festered over time.
Admittedly, Crouch Sr. only added to the litany of ills Jr. can cite: "He
sent me to Azkaban; he kept me prisoner in my own home; Imperius cursed me
the whole time; never loved me; never played Quidditch with me," ad
infinitum. But even the legitimate complaints are tempered first by the fact
that he really was a DE and would have landed himself back in Azkaban if
allowed freedom, and second by the fact that he has magnified his hatred
over time, by virtue of the strength it afforded him. In short, Barty ain't
sane.

Whew: I guess I had a lot more to say about Crouch than I thought. Didn't
meant to ramble that long.


Okay, the original purpose of my post. Snape as Headmaster. 

Susanna said:
> 
> Lots of thoughts about this:
> 1) It is quite clear from the books (do I begin to sound like 
> Steve??) that the Headmaster isn't chosen by his predecessor, but by 
> the board of governors, whom we have seen heavily influenced (because 
> threatened) by Lucius in CoS. Even the MoM can't put in his veto, 
> which he would have liked to do in CoS, but wouldn't even try any 
> more after the "parting of the ways". So: If Snape can convince 
> Voldemort+DEs that he is a double agent *for* their side, chosing him 
> would be a very logical move and not too difficult to impose on the 
> board of Governors. 


Am I the only one who thinks Snape is a bad idea, _not_ because of his
ability vs. other candidates', but because of the position it would put him
in? 

Think about it: If you're Snape, the LAST place you want to be is in a
position of relative power and influence over the school. Especially if the
DE's orchestrated it, they will expect you to immediately and permanently
begin implementing changes that affect the future of the wizarding world.
And Snape, since he is ultimately on the side of right, DOESN'T want to be
put in that conflict. If he _does_ change things, he's doing the bad guys'
work for them. If he _doesn't_ change things, he blows his cover and what
little credit he's managed to reconstruct with the DE's after all the work
it took to get back on the inside. If, on the other hand, he can make sure
someone _else_ gets the job, he can shrug his shoulders and say, "Look, man,
I tried my level best, but the old broad just isn't listening to reason" and
continue doing his real job: being a spy.

Oh--small nitpick on that one: several folks recently have referred to Snape
as a double-agent. He's really not technically a double-agent. He's a mole.
The difference is that his loyalty and the information he passes are
ultimately one-sided. He is a good guy working within the ranks of the bad
guys. We have no reason to believe that he is working both sides against
each other, which is what a double-agent does. He may occasionally have to
either pass information back to the DE's or allow a DE crime to occur, but
he's not engaging in either of those activities in order to help the DE's,
only in order not to blow his cover. And I suspect that the information he
passes from the good side to the evil is of relatively little consequence,
whereas when he finds out something big for Dumbledore, you can bet he'll
report posthaste.


That's enough of my rambling for now. 

Gwendolyn Grace




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