Snape & the DEs, Reprise (Long, of Course)

Fri Feb 8 22:33:45 UTC 2002

No: HPFGUIDX 34911

More on Snape and his affection (or lack thereof) for the Death 
Eaters, and other related topics.

----
"Did Snape Betray His Friends?"

Well, of *course* he did!  

He was passing on information to the enemy.  Even if there was no 
Great Bloody Ambush of the sort that Cindy seems to be slavering for, 
there can be no question at all that he was betraying his colleagues.

As to whether or not he still considered those colleagues "friends" 
at the time, though -- or, for that matter, whether he *ever* 
considered those colleagues "friends"...well!  That's the question, 
now, isn't it.

And Cindy, if it will make you feel any better, I have always firmly 
believed (on the basis of no canonical evidence whatsoever) that the 
information Snape passed on to Dumbledore led Evan Rosier straight
into the ambush in which he was killed by Alastor Moody.  

There now.  Does that satisfy a bit of that blood lust?  

No?  Still thirsty?  

Well, then why not add a chaser of Wilkes?

Now me, I prefer to take my Wilkes all over the hands of Frank 
Longbottom -- but I guess that Snape can have some too.  Plenty to go 
around.

I dunno about this throwing every single DE whose name we've ever 
heard into one massive ambush, though.  That's really kind of pushing 
it, don't you think?  I doubt Snape even *knew* half those guys.

----
Snape's Old Gang Roll-Call

About Sirius' comment that Snape "was part of a gang of Slytherins
who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters," I wrote:

> BTW, that "nearly all" is interesting, isn't it?...Who, one wonders,
> were the abstainers?

Eileen and Rebecca both felt that I had misinterpreted Sirius' 
comment, and that the six people he mentions (Snape, Rosier, Wilkes, 
Lestrange, Lestrange, and Avery) were in fact the entirety of the 
gang.  While both of them agreed that they would very much *like* it 
for there to have been abstainers, neither of them believed that this 
was what the author had intended.  Rebecca wrote by way of 
explanation:

> I thought "nearly all" meant all but possibly Snape -- Sirius isn't
> sure if Snape actually became a DE when he spoke this.

Interesting!  It never even *occurred* to me to read "nearly all" 
that way.  I had just automatically assumed that there were one or 
two others, whose names he never bothered to mention, who were (or 
who Sirius believed to be) innocent.  But given that this was 
apparently a highly idiosyncratic way to read the line, I will 
concede that the six of them probably *were* the entirety of the 
gang.  

<sigh>  Pity, really.  I, too, liked the idea of abstainers.

I must disagree, however, with Eileen, who wrote:

> As an aspiring member of L.O.O.N., I must point out that Sirius is 
> proved wrong in his estimation of the gang.  After all, he doesn't 
> know Snape became a death-eater, and many of "the Slytherin gang,"
> acquitted, turned out to be Death Eaters after all.

Much as it frightens me to tangle with a future LOONy, I do feel 
compelled to defend Sirius here.  He was *not* "proved wrong in his 
estimation of the gang."  He freely admits that he doesn't know about 
Snape, and he quite correctly identifies all of the other five 
members he mentions as Death Eaters.  He isn't wrong about them at 
all.  He's dead right about them.

Not that this is all that great a feat of perspicacity on Sirius' 
part, of course, since by the time that he's speaking, the only one 
of them he could possibly have guessed wrong about (other than Snape, 
about whom he confesses his ignorance) is Avery.  All of the others 
have already been condemned.  But Sirius *does* show proper insight 
into Avery's character: he's resolutely unimpressed with Avery's 
acquittal, and as it turns out later, his skepticism was justified.

But *about* Avery...

----
Poor Misunderstood Avery

Eileen, again:

> Yes, what *about* Avery?. . . .Re: Avery being so obliging.  So,
> what if Snape feels that several of his friends have joined him in 
> abandoning their wicked ways?

Weeeeellll...

<slow smile>

I suppose I'll take this opportunity to point out that Avery may very 
well have done just that.  For all we know, he may have been leading 
a blameless -- nay, even exemplary -- life these past thirteen 
years.  There is absolutely no evidence in canon to the contrary, and 
rather a few suggestions to support...

<sigh>

No.  Nope, sorry, just can't do it with a straight face.  Not today.  
So I'll just go through the major points in Avery's favor, shall I?

It is possible that although too frightened or too weak-willed to 
refuse the summons to the graveyard, Avery nonetheless really had, as 
Eileen put it, "abandoned his wicked ways" in the thirteen years 
since V's fall.  He has, at any rate, certainly kept a low profile.  
Sirius has no idea what he's been up to, and we have never once heard 
his name mentioned in connection with any contemporary Dark activity.

And boy, he sure does crack fast when Voldemort starts accusing his 
DEs of ideological infidelity, doesn't he?  I mean, the poor bastard 
just goes all to pieces.  All of the Death Eaters are quite naturally 
frightened, but Avery would seem to be tottering on the edge of 
nervous collapse: his reaction to Vold's suggestion that some of his 
DEs might now owe their true allegiance to Dumbledore is not merely 
fearful, it is quite literally hysterical.

Which kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?  Just what *has* Avery 
been up to these past thirteen years, that he should be in such a 
nervous state, or that he should so readily identify himself as one 
of those guilty of ideological compromise?  

Something that he thinks Voldemort wouldn't approve of, that's for 
sure.  Something disloyal to the Death Eater cause.  Something 
ideologically unsound.  Something...well, dare we even suggest it?  
Something that we the readers *would* approve of?  Something that 
might perhaps even be *virtuous?*

And he would seem to respond instinctively to guilt, as well.  His 
behavior is consistent with that of someone well-accustomed to 
thinking of himself as guilty, someone who has a long personal 
history with shame.

I also find it interesting that when Sirius is listing all of the 
members of Snape's old Slytherin gang, he mentions Avery *last.*  You 
would think, wouldn't you, that the criminally-minded Voldie-
supporting Dark Wizard whom you *know* to still be at large would be 
the very *first* name that would leap to your mind?  Particularly if 
you were Sirius, already sufficiently convinced that Dark Dealings 
Are Afoot that you've come all the way back to Britain to keep an eye 
on your godson?  Sirius did go out of his way to warn Harry about ex-
DE Karkaroff, and that was even before he got so worried that he 
returned.  He's in a highly paranoid state of mind.  But the 
possibility that Avery might be a live threat doesn't even seem to 
occur to him.  He does not, for example, say: "Well, there was that
son-of-a-bitch Avery, who got off scot-free -- he's still at large 
somewhere, so you want to watch out for him: if you hear anything 
about him snooping around Hogwarts or anything like that, I want you 
to let me know about it *immediately* -- and then there were Rosier, 
and Wilkes..."

Nope.  Nope.  Doesn't work that way.  Avery's the very last member of 
the gang that Sirius thinks to mention, and his tone when speaking of 
his acquittal is one of simple disdain.  In Sirius' mind, Avery just 
isn't a threat.  He barely even registers on the radar.  Which leads 
me to suspect that Avery was always a bit of a lightweight in the Big 
Bad Evil department.  Maybe he was never all that terrible, as DEs 
go.  

Really.  Avery's not all that bad.  He's just...high-strung.  ("Not 
half high _enough_," I can hear Cindy growl somewhere in the 
background.)  Certainly not at all Tough.  And far too easily led.  
But not evil to the *core.*

(I somehow imagine Avery to have been the Pettigrew of Snape's gang --
you know, that weedy little kid who was always hanging around in the 
background, laughing like a hyena, while Rosier and Wilkes beat up on 
some smaller boy.  But that's just me.)

I could, I suppose, go on now to spin a highly compelling portrait of 
poor, reformed, guilt-laden, hysteria-prone ex-DE Avery, a man who 
has spent the last thirteen years of his life desperately trying to 
atone for past wrongs by volunteering in soup kitchens and patting 
small puppies on the head and making generous donations to pro-muggle 
causes, a wizard who despite his high birth and sterling intellect 
has resolutely avoided the public limelight due to a (quite proper) 
sense of shame and humility and contrition, a man who has only in the 
past few years finally begun to emerge from the shadows of his past 
and regain some degree of self-respect and social confidence...only 
to have all this absolutely *shattered* by the return of Voldmort...

I could.  But I don't really have the stomach for it anymore, 
somehow.  Maybe because I've already 'fessed up to the fact that I 
don't really believe for an instant that it's at all what the author 
intended, which frankly, takes nearly all of the fun out of the 
game.  I'm sure, though, that you can fill in all of those blanks 
yourself, if you're so inclined.

I do, however, still seem to be able to work up some enthusiasm for
my objection to Rebecca's characterization of poor Avery as 
a "grovelling toady," so...

Now, I do realize that to many people all Grovelling Coward types 
look exactly alike, but I assure you that we members of 
S.Y.C.O.P.H.A.N.T.S recognize a great range of diversity within our 
ranks, and while such distinctions may seem insignificant to others, 
they matter a great deal to *us.*  So.

Avery is *not* a toady.  *Nott* is a "Toady."  What Avery is is 
a "Nerveless Hysteric."

When you obsequiously declare yourself to be prostrating yourself at 
someone's feet -- while all the while remaining in a steadfastly 
upright position -- *that* is being a Toady.

When you *literally* prostrate yourself at someone's feet, while 
simultaneously shrieking for forgiveness at the top of your lungs and 
shaking so violently that even a tightly-bound fourteen-year-old boy 
with some rather serious problems of his own to contend with can 
still detect the motion from all the way across a darkened graveyard, 
on the other hand...

Well, that's not "toadying," precisely.  That's...er...

<winces delicately>

That's what we here in S.Y.C.O.P.H.A.N.T.S. prefer to refer to as 
a "crisis of nerves."

A minor point, perhaps.  But one to bear in mind, particularly should 
you ever find yourself invited to our annual Minions' Ball, where 
ignoring such niceties can *really* set off the Whining Neurotics -- 
and that's just no fun for anyone, not even for the Sociopathic 
Sadists seated at the next table down.

<Nodding with satisfaction at having cleared *that* matter up, Elkins 
unpins her S.Y.C.O.P.H.A.N.T.S badge and thrusts it back into her 
pocket.>

----
Slytherin/DE Loyalty

Rebecca wrote:

> I do concede your description of how the current Slytherin
> students exhibit loyalty toward each other, maybe they aren't
> all so bad....But if we are talking about Snape's attitude 
> towards the former DEs, then we only have the adults to go by,
> and if we are talking about his former schoolmates, then we have
> even less to go by.

I think that maybe you misunderstood my point in bringing up the 
Slyth kids' tendency to close ranks.  My point there was not so much 
to argue that the Slyths "aren't all so bad" as it was to point out 
that there is some canonical evidence to suggest that House Slytherin 
as a whole places a high value on in-group loyalty.  It seems 
therefore not unreasonable to me to assume that both Voldemort and 
the DEs (themselves mostly Slytherin grads) would share that 
aesthetic.

I think that it's clear from the graveyard sequence that Voldemort 
does place a very high value on loyalty, and as I argued previously, 
the vast majority of the DEs who faced trial would seem *not* to have 
named names to the ministry.  

What I was attempting to suggest there was that Snape, as Slytherin 
and Death Eater, was likely to have himself been instilled with a 
very strong sense of in-group "my House right or wrong" style 
loyalty, which must have been the very devil to overcome, and which 
might well have left behind residue in the form of a lingering sense 
of attachment to old colleagues and classmates.

Eileen wrote:

> It's funny, actually, since one would think that ambition might
> not be best served by loyalty.  On the other hand, if you look 
> at real-life politics...there's a huge loyalty factor.

I think that's because under most circumstances, ambition *is* well-
served by loyalty.  Careful alliance-building is a far sounder long-
term strategy than indiscriminate backstabbing.

Also, Slytherin would seem to be not only the House o' Ambition, but 
also the House o' Entitlement.  It's the Old Boy network of the 
Potterverse.  Old Boy networks run on the engine of in-group loyalty;
it's how they function.

----
Murderers Who Play Bach

I wrote:

> We hear a great deal about Rowling's statement of intent to show
> how genuinely *bad* evil is in these books, and I laud that 
> sentiment.  But evil is also *complicated,* and there are times
> when I find myself wishing that Rowling would run a little further
> with that particular ball.

To which Rebecca responded:

> Again, I'm trying to look at what interpretations have canonical
> evidence, and I think she's pretty dead set on portraying L.V.'s
> stance as just plain evil.

I quite agree.  But that wasn't precisely what I meant by "evil is
complicated."  I meant something more along the lines of what 
Susanna/Pigwidgeon37 was getting at, when she donated that marvellous
German saying:

"In my country, a lot of murderers play Bach."

I have no problem with the portrayal of V's stance as Just Plain Evil.
How many nice things can you think to say, after all, about genocide
and gratuitous torture?  I do have some problems, however, with the 
portrayal of every single one of V's followers as not only "just 
plain evil," but also as utterly lacking in any redeeming qualities, 
or likeable characteristics.  Leaving aside for the moment the 
obvious philosophical objections, I also find it just plain 
*boring.*  Shades of grey make for interesting reading.  Noble Heroes 
vs. Totally Worthless Evil Villains is just kind of a yawn, IMO.

Of *course* evil is bad.  That's tautological.  But the nice old guy 
who lives next door and helps you jump-start your car on cold winter 
mornings sometimes turns out to have been in the SS, and the person 
who called the ambulance when you had your stroke and then stayed with
you and held your hand until the paramedics arrived turns out to be a
Klan member, and the professional torturer goes home at the end of 
the day and agonizes over his kid's poor math grades.  That's what 
makes evil complicated.  And that's also what makes it *scary.*

And for what it's worth (and to get back to the canon), I do think 
that Rowling did some very nice work with that in GoF.  I liked the 
crowd of drunken revellers at the QWC, whose numbers *grow* as they 
parade their way through the campground indulging in their spot of 
muggle-torture.  Those people weren't all Death Eaters, not by a long 
shot.  I liked the hissing jeering mob at the Pensieve trial.  For 
that matter, I also liked it when the twins hissed at Malcolm 
Baddock, and I loved it when Harry started fantasizing, in rather 
explicit detail, about exactly what it might be like to use the 
Cruciatus Curse on his least-favorite professor.  And, naturally, I 
always like Snape.

*Those* were the sorts of things I was referring to, when I said that 
I wished that Rowling would "run a little further with that 
particular ball."  And I actually *do* think it not unlikely that she 
will, in future volumes, go even further in that direction, thus 
making the notion of somewhat more 3D villain characters than we've 
seen so far not an altogether subversive suggestion.  The books have 
certainly been heading in that direction; by volume six or so, we 
might even get a few players of Bach who are *not* (as Snape is) 
working for the forces of Good.

I certainly *hope* so, at any rate.

----
Snape and the Slyth Kids

Eileen suggested that underlying dynamic of the popularity of "Snape 
always loathed the other members of his old Slytherin gang" might 
also be the one responsible for the popularity of "Snape doesn't 
really favor the Slytherins at all -- it's all an act."  

She wrote:

> Could this be connected to people's unwillingness to believe that
> Snape really favors Draco, or likes Lucius?

More on Lucius later, but as for Draco?

I know that it's an unpopular opinion around here, but I think that 
Snape really *does* favor Draco and the Slytherins.  Yes, I suppose 
that it might also be in his best interests as a possible future spy 
to stay on good terms with all the Slyth kids' DE Daddies, but I 
don't really believe that's the primary reason he favors them.  I 
think he favors them primarily because Slytherin is his House, and 
because Snape is loyal to House Slytherin in spite of the fact that 
an appalling number of its Old Boys went bad during the last big 
wizarding war.

It's by far the simplest explanation.  It seems perfectly in-
character to me.  And I don't really see very much in canon either
to contradict it or to support a different reading.  

As for Draco, I do think that Snape genuinely likes him -- or at the 
very least strongly identifies with him.  The kid seems to be good
at potions, he has a vicious and spiteful sense of humor, he's 
partial to hexes and curses, he's prone to envy, and he not only 
hates Harry Potter but has also been trying to get him in trouble or 
expelled ever since their very first week of classes together.  I  
mean, really.  What's not to like?  ;-)

And yes, Eileen.  I *do* think that it's the same dynamic at work.
I think you hit that one right on the head.

But as for Lucius...

----
Snape and Lucius, What Snape Knows, and That Sudden Movement

Eileen wrote:

> I myself proposed that Snape was the one who supposedly brought
> Lucius back to the light side, and was astonished that very few
> people could even conceive of Snape not being on to Lucius, of
> Snape liking Lucius.

and in another post:

> So, what if Snape feels that several of his friends have joined
> him in abandoning their wicked ways?  I've always read that part 
> where he starts at Malfoy's name that way, though I know most people
> disagree with me, and insist that Snape sees through Malfoy's 
> "conversion" the whole time.

Okay.  First things first.  "Snape being on to Lucius" and "Snape
liking Lucius" are NOT the same thing!  This goes all the way back to 
the point of my original delurk: it is possible to like someone while 
still recognizing that they are committing evil acts.  These are two 
separate questions.

First question: did Snape ever believe Lucius' claims of innocence?  
Or if not, had he since come to believe that Lucius had truly 
reformed?

Sorry, Eileen, but I just can't imagine Snape falling for either one 
of those notions.  He's not a gullible man.  Far from it: he is 
suspicious and misanthropic and sees the worst in everyone, and he 
also has an excellent sense for when people are lying to him.

Also, as Rebecca pointed out, *everyone* knows that Lucius Malfoy is 
guilty as sin.  Even Fudge seems to know it, deep in his heart of 
hearts.  If Snape's managed to kid himself about Lucius Malfoy's true 
nature all this time, he'd have to be a master of self-delusion, and 
I don't really think that he's that at all.  

Lucius Malfoy may be able to pour on the charm when he wants to (at 
least, I'm *assuming* that he can, although honestly, we've yet to 
see him even once behave the least bit charmingly in canon), but 
he's not exactly *subtle,* is he?  I mean, the man all but walks 
around with a sign reading "Unrepentant Death Eater" stapled to his 
forehead.  

Rebecca wrote:

> While he seems like he'd be wise enough to keep still about his
> feeling and cunning enough to fool people, I'm not sure I see
> real evidence of that.

Yes.  That *is* an annoying thing about Lucius as a character, isn't 
it?  Rowling obviously *intends* for us to read him as clever and 
conniving and devious and manipulative, but she doesn't actually 
succeed in portraying him that way at all.  The Lucius Malfoy we 
actually see in canon comes across (to me, at least) as an utter 
moron who couldn't even dissemble his way out of a parking ticket.  
He's about as subtle as a brick, and when Voldemort addressed him in 
the graveyard as "my slippery friend," my first inclination was to 
snort in derisive laughter.  It's a bit...frustrating, that.

So had Snape thought that Lucius Malfoy had reformed?  No, I don't
think so.  I just can't find a way to make myself believe that.

But does Snape *like* Lucius?  I honestly don't know.  It's not 
inconceivable to me that he might on some level like him.  Lucius is 
wealthy and elegant and well-spoken, and he's also quite good-
looking, if you go in for those chilly blond aristocratic types.  
And who knows?  Maybe he's also a maestro on the harpsichord.  ;-)

Or, as Eileen suggested:

> ...and if Draco gets his sense of humour and gift of mimicry from 
> his father, [he's] probably a very funny person to be with....And, 
> I'm sure Lucius throws enjoyable parties, at which people 
> say, "Could you do that imitation of Dumbledore?" and all tee-hee-
> hee away, without meaning any real harm. /me thinks of Fudge. 

<spits coffee all over the keyboard>

You know, the image of Cornelius Fudge, one or two past his limit, 
quietly giggling over his cocktail at some elegant Malfoy soiree, 
while Lucius perfoems cruel-yet-accurate impersonations of Dumbledore 
has got to be the most sympathetic thing I have ever imagined about 
*either* of those two characters.  *Ever.*

(Although sadly, I suspect that Lucius Malfoy has far too much 
invested in his own gravitas to entertain his important houseguests 
in such a clownish fashion.  A pity, really.)

As for Snape's Sudden Movement (which is beginning to remind me far 
too much of That Goddamned Gleam In Dumbledore's Eye), I just can't 
agree with Rebecca's idea that it was a "gesture of fury."  I can't
really offer any firm canonical reason for rejecting this 
interpretation, I can only say that it just didn't *look* like fury
to me.  It looked to me like a gesture of shock, or of dismay, or of 
alarm, or even of warning -- but not at all like one of fury.

I also don't like any of the explanations people have come up with 
for Snape's Sudden Movement that do not link it specifically to the
mention of Lucius Malfoy's name.  Again, this is purely subjective, a 
matter of nuance: from the way that the scene was described, I just
can't believe the gesture as *not* being a response to Malfoy's name.

My personal theory on the Sudden Movement is this: Snape knows full
well that the instant that Harry speaks Lucius Malfoy's name, he will
have destroyed *any* chance of being believed by the likes of Fudge.
Fudge will *never* accept a tale that implicates such a wealthy and
respectable member of society.  So the movement is an instinctive
gesture of warning -- or of interruption, or even of restraint -- 
which is then suppressed almost instantly because (a) Snape can't 
very well go shutting Harry up under the circumstances, and (b) it's 
too late anyway: the damaging name has already been spoken, and any
hope of gaining Fudge's trust or allegiance has probably been lost.

<shrug>  

Well, that's my interpretation of the Sudden Movement, anyway.  Any 
takers?

----
Snape and Karkaroff

More recently, people have been suggesting that Karkaroff might have
served as Snape's DE mentor, either as an older student at Hogwarts, 
as a member of faculty there, or after Snape had left school.  As an
extra bonus, some people have thrown in a bit of slashy speculation 
about the two of them as well.  

A couple of people have cited the tone of their exchanges in GoF as 
proof of some degree of lingering affection: Judy, for example, 
pointed out that Karkaroff is the only person we have ever seen Snape 
address by first name in all of canon; and someone else (forgot who, 
sorry) returned to the idea that Karkaroff's moment of hesitation and 
stress right before fingering Snape to the ministry in the Pensieve 
scene really *was* indicative of inner turmoil, of his deep 
reluctance to turn in someone who he actually liked.  A couple of 
people have also read a good deal of pity in Snape's tone when he 
speaks to Karkaroff.

I find this interesting, because back in the days of *this* exchange,
Rebecca cited Snape's attitude toward Karkaroff as a suggestion that
Snape holds *no* affection for old DE colleagues:

> And Snape is contemptuous and dismissive of Karkaroff, there's no
> love lost there, so you wonder about the other people.

The fact that people can read these exchanges so very differently
fascinates me.  

Personally, I think both that Snape's attitude toward Karkaroff is
contemptuous and dismissive *and* that this reflects some degree of
residual affection.  Snape must know, after all, that Karkaroff tried 
to rat him out.  And while it might seem highly irrational for 
someone who was himself a mole to take such a thing personally, or to 
harbor any animosity over it, this is Snape.  He's not a forgiving 
person.  I'd be willing to bet that he *did* take it personally.  

So really, I'd say that "contemptuous and dismissive" is quite a 
generous response, under the circumstances.  "Utter despite and 
loathing" would be rather more what I would expect from Snape, all 
things considered.  (And surely the temptation to take the "I quite 
agree, Igor, you *are* in a difficult situation.  You know, a potion 
would at least be quick..." approach must have been very nearly 
overwhelming.)

It also seems to me that Snape's attempts to avoid Karkaroff towards 
the end of GoF might well be indicative of a certain level of pure 
and simple discomfort: Karkaroff is, after all, likely doomed to die 
most unpleasantly in the near future.  Not nice to contemplate, even 
for someone with as strong a stomach as Snape.

So yeah.  I figure they probably liked each other well enough at one 
time, although I can't quite buy the lovers theory, nor the mentor-
protege one.  Their interactions are more suggestive to my mind of a 
relatively equal peer-colleague relationship than of either a sexual 
or a mentor-protege bond.  Not that I can defend that, of course.  
Just my impression.

----
Snape and Young Crouch

In response to my suggestion that Snape could well have been the one 
to lead his "Old Slytherin Gang" down the road to damnation in the 
first place, Eileen suggested the possibility of a mentor-protege 
relationship between Snape and Young Barty Crouch:

> What's more, he could have influenced younger Slytherins to the 
> bad. . . . Supposing that Crouch Jr. was in Slytherin (in a younger 
> year) while Snape was still there, and...had looked up to him...

Oh, ouch.

Well, that *would* put a whole new spin on that "another old friend" 
comment, now, wouldn't it?

I'm not sure that I believe it, but if true, then that certainly 
*would* pile on the angst, wouldn't it?

O, the humanity.

--- Elkins