TBAY: Failure

[derannimer]

No: HPFGUIDX 54469

Hm.

Maybe this one will--

::snap::

"Oof!"



Darn this. 



::snap::



Why isn't there a moon out tonight?



::snap::



Why do tree branches get thinner as they go out?



Someone standing in the side yard of the Safe House would hear, at 
this point, a muttered, rather rude exclamation. 

There is a fine old oak planted on one side of the Safe House, and, 
on this dark and foggy night, an indistinct form may be perceived 
thrashing about in its branches. 

The form hangs by one arm from a branch, and clumsily swings forward 
again. One hand catches a slender branch--

::thwap::

"Ah-H--"

::snap::

"@$^**%!!"


----------------


John, half-dreaming, half-hears the most extraordinary sort of 
language, and half-forms a resolution to speak with his sister about 
the kinds of friends she has. Then he falls back into sleep.


----------------


Derannimer, up in the tree, is beginning to consider this a bad idea. 
She knew she won't be welcome at the Safe House, as she rather 
favours the Elkins Doctrine of enjoying scenarios in which people 
screw up royally, rather than ones in which it turns out that they 
were actually being terribly clever and planning everything right 
from the very beginning. Sneaky would never let her in the front 
door. But she *did* so want to talk to Mel about this one.

And she'd seen that lovely old tree on the Safe House property, right 
next to the house--right next to a window. 

Mel's window. 

The window that--according to Pip's Perennial Moth Complaints--Mel 
tends to keep open.

Derannimer could see it now, faintly lit from the glow of the night-
light; white linen curtains blowing out in the breeze; the soft sound 
of whispered canonical disputes drifting out into the cool night air. 

If she could just get a little closer to that window. . . 

She had thought that if she could just get in to the house 
surreptitiously, then Mel need never even know who she was. They 
could have a nice conversation and then Derannimer could leave--
quickly, and without running into Pip or anyone else she knew. 

And without getting yelled at by a House Elf. 

But who else is in that room? Pip herself, maybe.

And how surreptitious *is* it, really, swinging ineptly around in 
this blasted great tree, rather like an actor who didn't quite land 
the part of Tarzan?

How unfortunate is that use of the word "land" going to appear, in 
light of future events? One could land pretty impressively from up 
here. 

"How surreptitious are you going to be if you fall out and break your 
moronic neck?" she grumbles at herself, and then swings forward again.

::thwap::

She hangs suspended between the two branches for a moment, waiting 
for the inevitable *snap* as her new handhold cracks beneath her 
fingers. 

She is almost disappointed when it doesn't break.

Her karma must have sprung a leak, or something. 

She shakes her head slightly, enough to remind herself that she 
doesn't even *believe* in karma, but not enough to shake herself out 
of the tree. 

She swings her other hand forward onto the new branch. It creaks 
slowly and droops down a bit, but it doesn't break. 

>From here she can just catch onto the window ledge. . . 


--------------------


". . . only times Harry admits feelings of failure are over Quidditch 
and death," Mel continues, hunched in one corner of her *own bed,* 
and wishing that Captain Cindy wasn't carrying her Big Paddle. "Two 
central parts of his life, actually, and two times he really did not 
cause the failure. Or let me rephrase that. He *alone* did not fail. 
Circumstances beyond his control and all."

"Yes, Harry has had it easy so far," Cindy agreed. "No doubt about 
it. Whenever he gets into trouble or needs something, someone--  
*hist!*"

"Wha--?" Melody doesn't get any further than that, because the 
Captain slaps a hand over her mouth. 

"I thought I heard something," hisses the Captain. 

Now that the Captain mentions it, Mel realizes, she can hear 
something too--a peculiar rhythmic. . . *creaking* sound. It sounds 
like. . . like. . . like maybe there was a heavy windstorm and--

::*THWACK*::

A hand suddenly slaps over the window ledge. Mel rips away from the 
Captain's hand the better to let out a brief shriek; the Captain 
herself rushes over to the window and brings her Big Paddle down on 
the mysterious hand. Hard.

"OWWWW!" yells a voice from somewhere below the window.

At that moment there comes a rap at the door. Captain Cindy whirls 
round, giving the person attached to the windowsill a chance to grab 
onto it with her other, non-smacked hand. 

Mel has turned as well, to behold Meg, clad becomingly in pink 
striped socks, green scrub pants, a t-shirt reading "MD 
Cheerleading," a messy pony-tail from which half of her hair is 
escaping, and a purple blanket. 

"It's Meg," explains Meg. "I heard you guys talking about failure and 
well, since it's a topic I am so familiar with lately, I thought I 
would. . . who's that on the window?" 

"Ah-HA!" cries the Captain, whirling back around. "That's right! It's 
an *interloper!*" She raises the Paddle to smack it back down on the 
hands, but Meg's medical instincts rise to the surface--that Paddle 
looks like it would *hurt*--and she runs forward and grabs the 
Captain's arm. 

"Captain!" she exclaims. "You don't even know who that *is!*" 

"Darn right!" yells a disgruntled sort of voice from under the 
window. "It's *Derannimer!* Let me *in!*"

Mel and Meg haul Derannimer in through the window. Derannimer snaps 
to her full height the second she's in the room, carefully cradling 
her poor hand and trying to look dignified. She casts a disgusted 
look down at Captain Cindy, who is sitting on the floor and 
positively howling with laughter. 

"De-Derannimer!" laughs the Captain. "I'm s-sorry! I didn't know it  
was--HA!--*you!*" 

"It is unimportant," says Derannimer rather frostily. So much for 
surreptition. And so much for not meeting anyone that might recognize 
her. Fortunately, if Mel and Meg have heard of her anti-MD status, it 
seems they have kindly decided not to mention it. 

"Derannimer," says Mel graciously, "take a seat. What did you want to 
talk about?" 

The Captain abrubtly stops laughing. "Hey, *yeah,*" she says, her 
eyes gleaming. "We've got enough for a proper slumber party now. 
*S'mores!*"


------------------


A few minutes later, the four theorists--John is still, somehow, 
sleeping--are sitting on the floor around Mel's fireplace, flaming 
marshmallows held before them on toasting forks--which is to say, on 
quickly Transfigured matchsticks. Derannimer doesn't think she's 
quite got hers right; her marshmallows are catching fire *awfully* 
quickly. 

"So," says Mel, reaching forward and snatching her marshmallow off 
the end of her toasting fork. "Ooch. Hot. Anyway, before you came in, 
Derannimer, we were talking about Harry and failure. Because the fact 
of the matter is that Harry practically *never* fails at anything. 
And he's going to have to."

"I agree," says Derannimer, nodding and swatting at her flaming blue 
marshmallow. "It just gets irritating if Harry never loses. If the 
good guys *in general* never lose." 

"Yeah," says Cindy. "And like I was saying, Harry's really had it 
lucky so far. I mean, whenever he gets into trouble or needs 
something, someone comes up with the answer. Someone gave him a 
Nimbus, and Sirius supplied a Firebolt. Dead people saved his bacon 
in the graveyard. Dumbledore saved him from Moody. On and on it goes."

"Not to mention," Derannimer points out, "or rather, *to* mention, 
the fact that Harry's mother came through for him pretty severely 
when he was a baby. If not for that, he would have been The Boy Who 
Snuffed It."

"And there wouldn't have been a story," adds Meg. 

"Yeah," says Derannimer. "But anyway, I agree with y'all's point. 
Harry's going to have to fail, or run out of luck, or whatever. He 
really does have to." 

After a minute of silence, during which everyone fishes in the bag 
for a new marshmallow--except Derannimer, who has decided to try 
Transfiguring a new matchstick--Captain Cindy speaks. "As we all 
know, failure builds character and makes you Tough. Melting a 
cauldron isn't good enough to instill that kind of character. 
Forgetting to feed Hedwig? Not even close. You know what this means, 
don't you guys? 

"Mel," she adds, gesturing with her toasting fork, "you said it 
yourself-–'Harry admits feelings of failure over Quidditch and 
death.'"

Everyone around the fireplace reacts to these words. Derannimer nods, 
with a slight smile. She thinks she knows where the Captain's going 
on this one. Meg frowns slightly, looking like she has some 
objection. Mel claps her hands to her cheeks in horror and says 
quickly, "Is it Hagrid? We all know Hagrid is going to die. Is 
it going to be Harry's failure that leads to Hagrid's death? Tell 
me it's not going to be Hagrid," she implores.

"Nah." Cindy snorts. "Hagrid is an adult who ought to be able to take 
care of himself."

Derannimer has stopped smiling. 

"Dumbledore?" asks Mel. 

"Talk about being able to take care of yourself," Cindy snorts 
again. "No, it needs to be someone who Harry feels a need to  
protect. Someone who can't take of himself or herself."

"Herself?" Melody repeats. "Not–-"

"Exactly!" Cindy cries. "Harry is going to fail at protecting 
*Hermione,* and she's going to pay for his mistake with her life!"

"Oh for the love of *Mike!*" interupts Derannimer, rather 
rudely. "*Captain*--you cannot actually *believe* that!"

"What! Why not? I--"

"You know, Elkins is *right* about you." 

"What?!" asks Cindy again, in a tone of some outrage. "Look, I 
already *made* the case for Hermione's demise in Message 46166."

"I think I missed that one," says Meg, with a certain firm line to 
her mouth that suggests she might have a problem with this theory 
too. 

"Yes, Captain," says Derannimer. "Go over that again."

"You want me to make my case for DeadDeadDead!Hermione?" asks the 
Captain, somewhat suspiciously. 

"Why on *earth* not." Derannimer speaks very pointedly indeed. 

"Okay then," says the Captain. 

"First up, JKR is really beating the "horrible to write" drum, isn't 
she? At one point she might have even said writing this death 
would "crucify" her. She says she's not enjoying it at all. So 
whoever bites the bullet in OoP has to be *Big!*"

"Or not," points out Derannimer. "She was really upset over Cedric's 
death too, remember." 

"But JKR gave us some other clues, didn't she?" counters Cindy. "She 
first mentioned this bit about "horrible to write" quite a long time 
ago. She has to be aware that lots of folks are betting on Dumbledore 
or Hagrid. She knows what that Hagrid actor said about his contract. 
Yet she keeps going on about how horrible this death is! I mean," 
Cindy continues, rising and walking over to a recessed panel in the 
wall, "look at this! Just look at this!" She taps a couple of little 
buttons, and the panel flickers into life. It's obviously showing JKR 
interviews. It fast forwards very, very fast, then zaps down to play 
for this exchange: 

**************

Liso: And what kind of book is it, is it dark, is it light, is it 
sort of, y'know, bits of both, cos it's really getting darker, could 
you tell us something about the tone?

JKR: It is dark. And there's a bad death in it, which I haven't 
enjoyed writing. But I'm really pleased with it so far. Just got to 
tweak it a tiny bit more and then you can - well, the publisher's 
will have it.

**************

"Look at that!" exclaims Cindy, tapping the panel back off. "JKR 
*volunteered* that whole bit about the bad death. She didn't have to 
say that, now did she? It's like she couldn't wait to repeat the bit 
about the horrible death. Oh, JKR is sitting in her mansion, laughing 
her head off that no one has come close to figuring out what she has 
in mind. If we've all guessed it correctly in Dumbledore or Hagrid, 
I'd expect JKR to back off a bit or stay mum about the death. So that 
means to me that the Hagrid/Dumbledore consensus is way off."

"Well. . . *maybe.* But I don't think that's a lot to start 
predicting *Hermione's *death** on."

"But there's other things, too," says the Captain eagerly. "There's 
also the fact that JKR doesn't do the obvious. Apparently, the smart 
money was not on Cedric before GoF was released. People were worried 
for the twins. That tendency to do the unexpected also suggests 
Hagrid isn't the one who will die."

"But you can't use that rule for *everything!*" exclaims Derannimer, 
in some frustration at the Captain. "Or if you can, then I get my 
SOULSUCKED!SNAPE theory. You *yourself* have said that you can't use 
that rule for everything!" 

"But that's not all!" continues the Captain, apparently 
oblivious. "As Pip noted, JKR seems a little irked that no one begs 
her to spare Hermione. I mean, if I were JKR and I had established 
the lynchpin of Book 5 as the death of Hermione, I'd be a little 
worried that no one seemed the least bit bothered by that potential 
outcome? Oh, JKR is sweating now, rightfully worried that Hermione's 
death might not be met with the outpouring of grief JKR needs to make 
OoP work. So she keeps hinting at the horrible death during 
interviews -- even when no one asks her about it."

"Oh for Pete's--" cries Derannimer, and then apparently can't find 
words sufficient to her irritation. "*Captain!* Good grief! You just 
*said* that JKR was 'laughing her head off!' And now you're saying 
that she's 'sweating!' I mean, which is it? Either she's pleased, or 
she's bummed! How is she *both?*"

"And also--" 

"Anyway, she's upset about no one asking about Hermione because she 
thinks it means they must not like her as much as they like Ron! Not 
because she's worried about it screwing up *OOP!*" 

"And *also,*" continues the Captain, with an air of great 
finality, "As far as the death being difficult to write, I'm not 
surprised. 

"Hermione's death would be quite difficult to write well. I'm not 
sure how one would even go about it. Would you order up a long slow 
death with lots of wheezing? Would she die heroically? Would she 
be ambushed, so to speak? Would she be kidnapped first and die in 
the rescue attempt? Would she be reduced to a pile of smoking ash? 
Would she die of her own ineptitude? That, coupled with Pip's 
observation that writing Hermione's death might be akin to suicide 
for JKR, swings the spotlight firmly in Hermione's direction." 

Derannimer simply glares at the Captain for one long minute. 

"Captain," she says finally, "do you *honestly* think that Hermione's 
going to die in the next book?" 

"Well," says the Captain cheerfully, "if nothing else, it would put 
an end to all this SHIPping nonsense."

Derannimer mouths silently in outrage for a moment. 

"Yep," continues Cindy, skewering a marshmallow on the end of her 
fork with a disturbing degree of relish and enjoyment. "Yep. Hermione 
is Ever So Dead."

"Really," says Derannimer coldly. "Well look here--"

"I mean, come on, Derannimer! What's the argument *against* it?"

"Aside from the obvious, you mean? *She's *Hermione**!"

"Come on! That's not an *argument!*"

Derannimer thinks for a minute, and decides that--on the whole--no, 
it *wouldn't* be a good idea for her to attack Captain Cindy with her 
newly-Transfigured toasting fork. 

She sighs, and begins talking. Very slowly. 

"Captain," she says patiently. "First of all, I honestly don't think 
that any of the Trio are going to snuff it, at least not in Book 5. 
For one thing, if Hermione or Ron were to die, who would take their 
place? Are we going to have a new, differently configured Trio? Are 
we just going to have Ron and Harry for the next two books? The fact 
of the matter is, the Trio form a single unit; at the end of the 
series, yes, one or more of them might die--but not when there's 
still all this *narrative* to go through. Hermione's death would 
leave a hole in the characters' lives, and sure, *that's* fine; but 
it would leave a hole in the books too."

"Well," the Captain points out, "they're a single unit *now.* There's 
no reason things *can't* be different."  

"I'm not finished yet. Secondly, there is the Law of Gender Ratios." 

Cindy groans. "Derannimer, don't get all meta--"

"The whole *Big Bang* is meta-textual! You shouldn't have any 
problems with meta-textual! And the Law of Gender Ratios is a 
perfectly fine meta-textual assumption. We can't go through the whole 
next two books with a Trio of guys. Or just two guys. They need a 
girl in there, or we would all miss a lot. *Especially* as they're 
all just hitting adolescence, and the view points between the two 
genders are diverging even further. You'd miss a lot of comedy, you'd 
miss *a lot* of potential for romance--"

"*I* wouldn't."

"--and you'd miss a whole layer of literary and human experience that 
comes from a *feminine* understanding--you'd miss half of the 
equation. Eve may have been Adam's help meet, but Adam *needed* a 
help meet, you know. The purely masculine isn't any more complete 
without the feminine than the purely feminine is without the 
masculine. And without Hermione, HP would be pretty darn purely 
masculine. The books would be a lot. . . well, *thinner* without 
Hermione in them. Even if they weren't any shorter." 

"What about Ginny? What if she kind of took Hermione's place?" Meg 
breaks in quietly. 

Derannimer sits and thinks for a minute. "Nah. For several reasons. 
First, she's *never* gonna be allowed to share all of Harry and Ron's 
adventures, for the simple fact that she is Ron's little sister, and 
he--and Fred and George, and maybe even Mrs. Weasley--will work to 
keep her out of it. Hence, by the way, another point against H/G. 
Ginny is always going to be Ron's little sister. 

"And that would really be a pretty weird dynamic, wouldn't it? Harry, 
and Ron, and Ron's little sister who's got a hero-worshipping crush-
from-afar on Harry. I don't think it would be all that much *fun.*

"Also, she's too young. She's not in their year, she doesn't take 
their classes--it'd be harder to keep her up-to-date on things than 
it is Hermione."

The theorists are silent for another minute. Then Captain Cindy 
speaks up. 

"There's always Neville," she says.

"Neville is not a female," says Derannimer. 

"No." 

"And you *do* need prominent female characters--it's not literary 
quotas, it's just that most stories need women in them, as well as 
men. I *won't* think Hermione's gonna die unless you can find me a 
plausible female character that can fill a place of similar 
importance."

"Well, then," says Mel, chewing a contemplative s'more, "who *do* you 
think is going to die?"

"Hagrid," says Derannimer immediately. 

"No, look," protests Captain Cindy, "It's like I said: Hagrid 
*really* ought to be able to take care of himself. How could Hagrid's 
death constitute a failure for Harry?"

Derannimer sits and thinks for a moment. The firelight splashes 
strange shadows across her face, which slowly folds into an ominous 
smirk. 

"Weeel. . . " she says, "What kind of failure are you talking about, 
exactly? Failure in whose eyes?"

"Oh!" Meg exclaims. "Oh, yes, I think I know where you're going. 
Yeah, I was thinking that too." Meg nods at Derannimer. 

Melody and Cindy look rather confused. 

"Melody?" begins Meg, "have you ever considered that Harry doesn't 
have to truly fail? He only needs to feel that he has failed. Think
about it. When Cedric died, he blamed himself. When the dementors 
came to the game and he fell off his broom, he blamed himself for the 
lost game. Whenever something bad happens, he assumes that he is 
responsible for the failure."

"So," breaks in Derannimer, "what if something *really* bad happens?"

"Hagrid dies?" asks Captain Cindy, dubiously.

"No, not just Hagrid dies," says Derannimer, the smirk making a 
comeback. "Hagrid dies in front of Harry. Harry tries to stop Hagrid 
from dying, and can't. And *fails.* Even if that failure was 
perfectly forgivable in our eyes, even if Harry shouldn't be expected 
to protect an adult like Hagrid, the fact remains that that failure 
would *not* be forgivable in Harry's eyes, and Harry *would* expect 
himself to be able to save Hagrid. After all, he's saved everyone 
else."

"But not his first guide and mentor," says Mel, musingly. "Oh, but 
that's really *awful!*"

"Yeah." Derannimer grins. "And here's another thing. Let's not have 
it at Voldemort's hands. I don't want another run-in with Voldemort 
until seven, personally. So let's have Hagrid meet his Tragic Demise 
at the hands of some DE or other. That would be even worse for Harry; 
not only a defeat, but not even a defeat to Voldemort. A defeat to 
his pathetic *henchmen.*"

"Yes, but that could happen to Hermione too," objects the Captain.

"Nah. If Hermione's gonna die, I want the Evil Overlord to kill her. 
It's only fair. And if the DE's *do* do the killing, we can have all 
*sorts* of Fun Things. Such as Lucius Malfoy."

"Lucius Malfoy is a Fun Thing?" Meg wonders aloud. 

"Well, no. No. Not especially. But Lucius torturing and/or killing 
Hagrid would make for an interesting thingie. Well. It'd make for 
*lots* of interesting thingies. 

"Or Snape."

"*What!*" shrieks Mel.

"I mean if he was *there.* I don't mean if he'd do the torturing 
and/or killing *himself.* But he could be there, and he could refrain 
from helping Hagrid or Harry. He could not intervene--simply watch 
impassively as Lucius tortures his colleage. You know, preserving his 
cover for the sake of the broader mission. Be hard on Harry, 
accepting *that* would. *I* think that sort of a scenario would be 
horrible to write." 

"But all that could happen to Hermione too!" protests the Captain.

"No it couldn't," says Derannimer firmly. "I couldn't *read* all that 
happening to Hermione. It's not just a question of whether the books 
are kiddie-lit--I don't think they are--but I *cannot* watch Hermione 
get *tortured* to death.

"Hagrid, yes. Hagrid I can do. Hermione, no way." 

"Well, yeah," says Captain Cindy. "But that's the *point.* It would 
be *awful* if Hermione died. Then Harry will have suffered the most 
gut-wrenching failure of his life--a failure that leads to the death 
of one of his two best friends. If anything will give Harry the 
desire to defeat Voldemort once and for all, that will. Hermione just 
*Bangs* more. You gotta admit that, Derannimer."

"Yes. . . well, yes. Obviously. But you know, I honestly think that 
it wouldn't be half bad motivation for Harry if *Hagrid* were to die 
either. *You* may not like Hagrid much--"

"--that's for sure--"

"--but Harry certainly does. And if Hagrid were to die in front of 
him, if he tried to stop it from happening and failed, it would be a 
massive failure in his eyes. And, hey, let's drag in that OOP quote: 
what if Harry failed *because he didn't know something Dumbledore 
should have told him*--"

"Hoo boy," observes Mel. 

"Hoo boy indeed."

"But that would really be more *Dumbledore's* failure, in that case," 
objects Captain Cindy.

Derannimer considers this for a moment, and then shrugs. "Oh well," 
she says philosophically, "that works too. Anyway, if there's anyone 
in this series who needs to fail even more than Harry does, it's 
Dumbledore. And there would be a certain beautiful irony if Hagrid's 
death were to be, at least in part, indirectly caused by the failure 
of the man who Hagrid places such an absolute trust in.

"Now come off it, Captain: can't Hagrid's death Bang even a little 
bit?" 




Derannimer (who thinks that if John doesn't wake up, we could always 
try poking him with a toasting fork)