The good ship SILK GOWNS

hermionegallo hermionegallo at yahoo.com
Sun Sep 14 19:08:12 UTC 2003


No: HPFGUIDX 80761

"So, it's settled then, isn't it?"  said Captain Jenny, beaming 
around at everyone.   

HG scanned the dull looks on the faces of the sailors surrounding 
Captain Jenny; only one drunken skeptic had replied with more than a 
terse question – and after doing so had fallen asleep.  It was clear 
her captain's words had sailed right over their heads, or that her 
captain's brilliance had dazzled them dumb.  HG had an inkling that 
this was going to be a tough crowd


Victory shone on Captain Jenny's face.  "Prime salacious idea!  
Option number one!  Bend!" she cried, waving a fist in the air.  
Then, just as suddenly, she straightened her gown, and quietly 
announced, "And now, tea." Captain Jenny's eyes twinkled as, humming 
to herself, she tottered off below deck.  As several onlookers 
scratched their heads and turned to leave, HG spoke up.  "She's a 
genius, you know.  Quite mad, of course, but pure genius."

"Sounds like complete gibber if you ask me," one skeptic called 
out.  "I think we've wasted enough time around here."

HG scrambled to keep the audience.  "It's quite simple, really!  And 
our clever captain wouldn't have been able to do it without most of 
you."  

Those who were leaving stopped at her words, and taking her 
opportunity, HG plunged onward.   "Without the Order of the Flying 
Hedgehog, none of us here aboard the good ship SILK GOWNS would be so 
Constantly Vigilant.  The LOLLIPOPS have taught us to scrutinize, you 
FEATHERBOAS have reminded us that this is an ugly war.  You're all 
brilliant in your own ways!"

Murmurs of ascent passed through the crowd.  HG continued 
quickly.  "I'm sure you'd all agree that the Longbottoms' situation 
seems suspect.  They've been stuck in St. Mungo's for twelve years, 
imprisoned in their own brains – note the parallel to Sirius Black's 
twelve year incarceration!  We have seen in canon that the Cruciatus 
Curse causes pain that subsides when the curse is lifted; we have 
seen that the Imperius Curse can be fought over time.  But the 
Longbottoms have been imprisoned in a hospital, a place of healing 
and recovery, doing neither, for twelve long years.  We have a little 
ship, perhaps
" and here, HG patted the smooth, shining walnut hull 
of the sailboat, "but it's a strong one.  Our canons are small but 
many, and blowing together they provide quite the bang."

"Imprisoned, you say?  Isn't that a strong term?"

"Strong, yes, and most likely accurate.  Dumbledore himself has said 
there are far worse things than death.  Can you imagine being 
imprisoned in your own brain, watching your child grow up before your 
eyes, helpless to interact with him?   It seems plausible to us 
aboard the good ship SILK GOWNS that the Longbottoms aren't simply 
being kept quiet by insanity, but that there's also an Imperius curse 
on them.  Note how Alice is described in comparison to Barty Crouch, 
Sr. in GoF."

HG proceeded to quote canon, first, the description of Alice in 
OoP:  " `Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge, 
and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She 
did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but 
she made timid motions toward Neville, holding something in her 
outstretched 
hand
' "

HG continued: "Notice the similarity to the description of Barty 
Crouch, Sr. in GoF hardback American, p. 553:  `He was unshaven and 
gray with exhaustion.  His neat hair and mustache were both in need 
of a wash and a trim.  His strange appearance, however, was nothing 
to the way he was behaving.  Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch 
appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see
 Mr. 
Crouch's eyes were bulging.  He stood staring at the tree, muttering 
soundlessly at it
He looked utterly mad.'"

A sailor cried out, "So Jenny thinks it's the gum that's doing all 
this to the Longbottoms?"

"Captain Jenny," corrected HG, "and she admits it as a possibility, 
yes."

The sailor continued, "Yeah, okay, Captain Jenny.  But Kneasy said 
before falling asleep that the gum was the cure, not the cause.  Your 
captain said nothing about that.  Don't you think she's sort of 
overlooking the obvious?

"Hardly!  In fact, my Captain did address this very issue, which our 
intoxicated friend didn't seem to hear.  Captain Jenny said 
that `candy could be part of the healing process at St. Mungo's, just 
as an emotionally unsettling encounter with Dementors can be fixed 
with just some chocolate. Part of the therapy for the Longbottoms 
could be to give them gum.'  Our Butterbeer swilling friend 
overlooked this seemingly minor detail: that Drooble's Best Blowing 
Gum leaves bluebell colored bubbles that continue to hover for days.  
If the Longbottoms were indeed chewing that much Droobles, Ward 49 
would be littered with the things.  Captain Jenny did say that the 
reason there are no bubbles may be because the Longbottoms may not be 
getting the therapy, but only empty wrappers."

Someone laughed and shouted, "You don't even know if there is any gum 
or not?"

HG remained dignified.  "As Captain Jenny said, maybe it's all just 
empty wrappers, to make it look as if they're getting their therapy.  
Maybe there's no gum, but some other poisoned confection that's 
passed off as Drooble's.  Maybe Alice isn't taking the gum to chew it 
but instead for the message that may be contained in the words.  Some 
confections are getting to Ward 49, perhaps, but if it is Drooble's, 
no one is chewing it – or it's not Drooble's, but some tainted 
substance, and that's what's contributing to their incarceration."  

"So who's behind it, the Healer?  She was positively babying Lockhart 
and Bode!"  A couple of derisive chuckles passed through the crowd.

HG, unflinching, replied, "Aha!  You bring me to Healer Strout, who 
had to ace her Herbology N.E.W.T., who didn't recognize the 
difference between a Flitterbloom and Devil's Snare?   Either she's 
part of whoever is doing it – or, she's affected too, by whatever's 
causing it.  And Neville's abysmal memory?  He has spent enough time 
in Ward 49 over the course of twelve years to be affected himself.  
Now it could be that Healer Strout and Neville have both had contact 
with the wrappers, which could have traces of the contaminating 
substance on them.  Or it could be something in the environment of 
the ward."

A sailor with his head bent low mumbled into his hand, "It's a closed 
ward."

"We've learned that the doors aren't imperturbable, from the Weasley 
twins, whose Extendable Ears easily wriggled under a doorway.  
Noxious fumes seep out from under cracks.  And a simple `Alohamora' 
opens the door to the `secure' closed Ward 49.  The closed ward is 
not escape proof, as Lockhart keeps wandering off."  

"But who would be doing this?"

"Again, as our steadfast Captain proposed, Lucius Malfoy is a 
generous contributor to St. Mungo's.  His word is gold around there, 
probably quite literally, as it is in the Ministry.  Fudge, as 
insecure as he is, relies heavily on advice and support (both 
financial and emotional) from Lucius Malfoy.  He is a primary 
suspect.  Other crew members have proposed that Uncle Algie or Gran 
are behind it, whether for altruistic reasons such as protecting the 
Longbottoms from getting re-engaged in the danger they were in 
before, or perhaps because of secret Death Eater affiliations.  And 
thanks to those of you on the MAGIC DISHWASHER, we can also speculate 
that Dumbledore himself needs to ensure that the Longbottoms keep mum 
about something."

"Okay, that's it –" yelled a surly-looking sailor.  "Anybody got a 
yellow flag on them?  I think it's time to start pelting –"

Another sailor held him back.  "Stop!  Stop!  There's some meat here, 
we have to admit it!"  Possibly, she was a MAGIC DISHWASHER crewman.

HG shouted over the swelling sound of voices.  "What's certain for 
sure is that something suspicious is going on in Ward 49, and that 
Alice is trying to communicate with her son.  Can we possibly agree 
on that?" 

A couple of sailors had broken from the group and were heading back 
to their ships, but many stayed.  A young boy spoke up, his face 
contorted in confusion. "But...I asked it before, and I'll ask it 
again: why would anyone want to do this to them?"

"My Captain said we don't know.  That's the tricky part of our 
theory.  What do the Longbottoms know that is so significant they 
need to be kept alive, but unable to communicate or act?  Killing 
Bode was simple enough, why not do the same with the Longbottoms?  
We've been told by Dumbledore that the Longbottoms "were tortured for 
information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers" 
by the Lestranges.  But is that really the information the Lestranges 
were seeking?"

HG paused for effect before continuing.  "It's quite possible that 
the Longbottoms will come out of their long mental imprisonment.  If 
Malfoy is behind it financially (and as Fudge's puppeteer), it could 
be that the interference with the Longbottoms' health could stop with 
Malfoy's incarceration in Azkaban, and lead to their recovery.  Or, 
if the wrappers are indeed a message to be deciphered, Neville 
himself holds the clues to the resolution, and he's certainly 
motivated to help his parents.  (We've even wondered if his reason 
for having the Mimbulus Mimbletonia is because he's seeking a cure 
for his mum and dad.)  But remember our friend, Luna:  she's 
skeptical, intelligent, and will turn something upside down to 
decipher its meaning.  She doesn't accept pat, straightforward 
explanations, and will closely examine anything suspicious in 
nature.  If she were to see the Longbottoms and to see Alice give 
Neville a wrapper, she would take a new approach to the situation and 
very likely discover foul-play."

Several sailors scratched their chins, two were nodding, and a small 
faction were shaking their heads.

"Friends," said HG softly, "we didn't say we had all the answers, we 
didn't say we had the biggest canons, but small as they are, our 
canons are significant, and that's why we saw the need to set sail 
into Theory Bay, a community where the best vessels in the 
Potterverse dock, the most critical eyes zoom over the most seemingly 
inane details – crew to crew, ship to ship, we can crack this thing!"

A cry rang out from below the deck: "HG!  Get down here!  We think 
we've got something!"

HG turned to face the crowd one last time.  "That's my captain, I've 
got to go.  This could be it, guys.  You know where to find us."  And 
with a swish of her gown, she'd disappeared below decks, leaving 
several curious sailors to try to eavesdrop through the portholes of 
the good ship SILK GOWNS.
 






More information about the HPforGrownups archive