Thanking Snape?/Apologies/SUCCESS/ Harry AK'ing Voldy

[Edblanning at aol.com]

No: HPFGUIDX 36724

This is a bit behind the times. I've amalgamated a couple of things I posted 
it on Monday, but which apparently got eaten by the system whilst the group 
was off line.

Marina:
> See, I have a different view of apologies, possibly influenced by the
> fact that I don't have children.  I don't like them. (Apologies, I
> mean.  Well, okay, and children, too.)  I tend to just get more
> annoyed when someone apologizes to me, because I'm convinced that
> they're sincerely sorry for what they've done (as opposed to being
> sincerely sorry for getting caught), and because in my experience
> people have a tendency to translate "apology accepted" as "so now you
> can do it again."  If someone has wronged me, I'd prefer they keep my
> mouth shut about it and refrain from wronging me ever again.  This is
> probably very cynical and anti-social of me, but what other character
> 

Eloise:
You've got me thinking there. Not a reaction I had anticipated, I admit. I 
think my answer would be that those aren't real apologies. To go back to the 
children ( I'm not sure that I like them all that much either, she says, 
damaging the unwarranted reputation she seems to have got in some quarters), 
we went from a situation with my oldest where we went straight from never 
apologising at all, to 'I *said* sorry!'  (you'll have to imagine the English 
indignant whine) with obviously not a trace of regret. True apology is hard. 
It's difficult to do, because it does mean having remorse for what you've 
done. It's also very difficult to accept an apology graciously ( I live with 
certain individuals who certainly haven't got the knack - myself for one.) 
especially if one is not to diminish the wrong that has been done. So I can 
see why you don't like apologies: it's all too easy for a trite apology and a 
polite, 'that's OK, it doesn't matter' ( when really it *does*) and nothing 
has changed. Like the cliche of going to confession, so one can start sinning 
all over again with a clean slate. That's not how it works.
Snape, I'm sure would be *lousy* at accepting apologies, so that the 
apologiser would just wish they hadn't bothered. 

Dicentra 
>Whether Harry Did the Right Thing with the expelliarmus is questioned
>in canon, even by Harry. No sooner has Snape done a face plant than
>Sirius tells Harry "you should have left him to me" and Harry can't
>look at Sirius because he's suddenly not sure it *was* the right thing
>to do.

Yes. It was an accident, of course. He didn't realise the others were going 
to join in. But this goes into my category of things that although 
accidental, you apologise for out of politeness. There should actually be 
*less* loss of face involved. There *should be* regret for an injury that one 
didn't mean to cause (although in this case I can see they might not really 
regret it!).

cindysphynx wrote:
> That said, I have to kick myself, because I overlooked perhaps the
> biggest, most important apology in the books.  In my favorite scene
> in my favorite book, no less:
> 
> "Forgive me, Remus," said Black.
> "Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Lupin, who was now rolling up.

> his sleeves.  "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you
> were the spy?"
> 
> Now, what on earth are Black and Lupin apologizing for here?  Back
> when Voldemort fell, no one knew whom to trust.  Neither did anything
> wrong by failing to trust the other.  It was nothing personal, and it
> was unavoidable.  Yet there they are, going out of their way to
> apologize before, uh, murdering someone in cold blood.  A lot of
> people have expressed dissatisfaction with this scene, and perhaps
> one reason is that neither character has any good reason to be
> apologizing.  I don't know.

Margaret replied:
>The answer, I think, is that they are not precisely apologizing
>but rather asking mutual forgiveness.  They are getting out what
>previously lay between them so that their friendship can be
>re-established on its old basis of mutual trust.  And if they're
>about to commit cold-blooded murder, they're going to NEED that
>friendship, boy howdy!  (They still do, as it turns out, even
>after the murder is averted.)

>On that basis I'd say your instinct that this is the "most
>important apology in the books" is perfectly sound!

Wholehearted agreement. The point about sincere apology is that it isn't just 
some magic social formula, it's the recognition that something has gone wrong 
between two (or more) people that needs to be put right if the relationship 
is to carry on or be healed. It's an acknowledgement of how the situation is 
and that something needs to be done about it (such as in the Truth and 
Reconciliation Commission in South Africa). Remus and Sirius had both 
harboured dark thoughts about each other for the last thirteen years, and 
Lupin hadn't exactly just dropped in for a cup of tea with his old buddy, had 
he? They both recognised that they needed to clear the air, to admit that 
they had been wrong, even if in retrospect there had been justification for 
their beliefs.

Marina again
>I suspect that it will be chilly day in hell before Snape apologizes
>to anyone, and I doubt he would react favorably to an apology from
>Harry, or from Sirius, or from anyone else he thinks has wronged him

I'm afraid you're right, there. But isn't this exactly what was being 
discussed a while back under the 'characters frozen in time' (IIRC) heading?
They have to move on, but how are they going to do it? Dumbledore recognises 
this, although so far he has only got them to shake hands.

Well, OK, 'Real Wizards don't Apologise'. Real Wizards suffer from a great 
deal too much pride, if you ask me. And they're not helped by being male. 
(Isn't it interesting that Cindy's other example of an apology - to Muggles, 
no less - was from that wizard who, according to Fudge, is conspicuously 
lacking in 'Proper wizarding pride'.)
But there are ways and ways of showing regret, of moving on. Isn't that what 
Harry and Ron did in that 'apology that wasn't an apology' scene that 
restored their friendship? It's like Harry never wanting to cry. It's not 
what men do. No tree hugging for wizards. Harry and Ron both knew what the 
other wanted to say. They both knew the other was sorry for their part in the 
rift between them and in the end, *because they both recognised the 
situation*, it didn't have to be said.
Now I do believe that Sirius and Snape are no more likely to say sorry to 
each other than I am to fly on my broomstick and that they're further 
handicapped by never having liked each other. But perhaps, just perhaps, now 
they're both openly on the same side, they might gain some grudging respect 
for each other (as some have speculated about that look Snape gives Harry at 
the end of GoF) which could open the way for some mutual recognition that 
they've been wrong about each other. Not *saying* sorry, but doing something 
which shows that they want to move on. And perhaps Lupin and Snape might 
achieve the same thing too. Friendship with edge, as I put it before. If I 
were Dumbledore, I would be tempted to send them on a mission where their 
lives depended on trusting each other. Snape and Lupin at least (IMHO) are 
sensible enough not to let pride get in the way of accomplishing a mission 
for Dumbledore.
As for Harry...well he really *ought* to acknowledge that he owes Snape 
something for keeping him on his broomstick, but I suppose Snape's made it 
pretty difficult for him to do it, so I won't be too hard on him.

Now Porphyria takes me gently to task on a couple of issues:

>> The problem I addressed with my SUCCESS theory.

>Yes, but your SUCCESS theory postulates that it was Quirrell who 
>disabled Snape, and this after he already knows he's up to no good. The 
>thought of Q. getting the best of Snape when Snape has every reason to 
>suspect him just breaks my heart. So perhaps it was...Dumbledore who 
>slipped a slow-acting tranquilizer into Snape's pumpkin juice before he 
>left for London. At least we can forgive Snape for trusting Dumbledore 
>to serve him a drink. :-) I think we can even use your same acronym.

This was why I came down on the pumpkin juice as a method rather than any 
other. Unless Snape took to drinking only from a hip flask like Moody, it 
could have been possible. Just because the situation has a certain amount of 
pathos, it doesn't invalidate the idea. But it was only a speculation. I 
agree that Dumbledore has edge. Rather a lot of edge, actually, and I know 
that Harry himself speculates that he felt Dumbledore thought he had a right 
to face Voldy. But somehow I can't get my mind around it all being a set up. 
I don't really see the point. Dumbledore himself said he only got there just 
in time. If Harry could get the stone from the mirror, then surely letting 
him get into that situation was a huge risk: Voldemort so very nearly got the 
stone from him.
I cannot see Snape, however loyal to Dumbledore, agreeing to back off, unless 
there is a hidden agenda which he knows about and we don't. There are some on 
this list, of course, who think he has some kind of official guardian role in 
regards to Harry. I don't, but if he did, would Dumbledore disable him? 
Hmm...I don't know. Dumbledore's edge, again.
Then again, my own theory, which hasn't been out for a while (in fact which 
I'd forgotten about until now), was that in fact, Snape was himself (rather 
childishly) desperate to be the protector of the Stone. So again, if I am 
correct, he should have been in evidence.
(This theory explains, to me at least, why he doesn't appear to have related 
his fears about Quirrell to Dumbledore, and lends another layer of depth to 
his hatred of Harry: Snape fails to save the Lily and James, but Harry 
survives despite (not because of ) his efforts; Snape works in danger and 
secrecy against Voldemort, but Harry, through no effort of his own famously 
defeats him; Snape fails to protect the Philosopher's stone, but Harry does; 
Snape fails to bring Sirius to 'justice', *because of Harry*. I think he 
starts off jealous of Harry, immaturely seeing him, though a child, as a 
rival, so that every next thing Harry achieves just makes things worse.)

Porphyria again: (after I agreed with Cindy that Snape's motives for going to 
the shack were not honourable.)

>And Eloise replied:
>> Unfortunately true!

>Eloise! How could you give up so easily! And when you were doing such a 
>good job of defending him!

(Hangs head in shame)
I suppose I did rather drop the baton there, didn't I? But you picked it up 
and raced to the winning post with it, so all is well.
Put it down to lack of sleep and the realisation that I really *had* better 
do something about the housework, so that I sort of ran out of steam.
But at the same time, no matter how pro-Snape my stance is, there comes a 
point when I feel I can't defend him any further. Although I've made a 
veritable cottage industry out of trying to *understand* him, which means 
that I do excuse a lot, some of his behaviour just can't really be excused. 
But that's part of the fascination. How can anyone be so bad and so good at 
the same time? I take on board what you said about mixed motivation, and I 
think you're right, but at the same time, I'm rather afraid that at that 
point his primary motivation, his *conscious* motivation, was simply to get 
his own back on Lupin, and Sirius too, if possible. Sorry if I'm letting the 
side down. It's like the children again: however much I love them them, 
however  much I try to understand them, sometimes (too often at the moment, 
in some quarters), they just cross a bridge too far. Being on someone's side 
doesn't mean you have to be blind to their faults.

Cindy:
>Finally, what happens if Harry uses AK on Voldemort?  Uh, no idea. 
>And the fact that I have no idea means that this scenario might well 
>be the climactic scene in the final showdown.  I think perhaps if 
>Voldemort or Harry use AK on the other, they will *both* be killed 
>due to that blood tie they have now.
>And if that's the case, I have to wonder why Dumbledore would be 
>Gleaming about that possibility.

But it was a very transient gleam, wasn't it? So transient that Harry thought 
he must have been mistaken. So it makes sense. Dumbledore thinks, 'Yes, got 
him!' for a fraction of a second, before remembering the implication and 
looking wearier than ever.
I hope you're wrong.

Oh, and thank you to everyone for my continuing cross-cultural education. 
First Smores, now pink flamingos. Looking out at the grey sky and pouring 
rain, you'll 
understand why the latter aren't a common feature of British front gardens, 
we just don't have the climate. I've been trying to think of a British 
equivalent and can't really come up with a direct one (which, believe me, has 
nothing to do with Brits having intrinsic good taste). The best equivalent 
analogy I can come up with would be putting replacement UPVC windows in the 
gothic cathedral; 'stone' cladding, that other scourge of otherwise perfectly 
pleasant little Victorian terraced houses would seem to be a little 
superfluous. But the pink flamingos are a brilliant image, now that I 
understand them.

Eloise 
who notices her dicentras are coming into flower, though not the white one 
yet, which seems to have had a set back this winter, and who had intended to 
suggest a longship as a suitably Tough Fourth Man vessel (giving Cindy the 
opportunity to dress up a la Brunnhilde and stride up and down the middle, 
making sure no-one was slacking), but who is very happy with the idea of a 
hovercraft, particularly if Elkins will make sure the bar is well stocked 
with single malt, preferably a selection of nice peaty, smoky Islay ones.


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