Backward beta chapter three
Updated May 11, 16, 2005
Hi all :-)
Here's the “published” Chapter three, keeping in mind trixiegogobunny, tabigarasu and rea_saint’s beta-ing comments and suggestions.
(BTW, I’ve changed one sentence in Chapter two: The headmaster had appointed Hogwarts Potions Master, instead of the Deputy Headmistress, to meet a high-ranking French wizard to discuss possible ties between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons.)
3
“Droit devant soi on ne peut pas aller bien loin...”
July 22, 1993
I learned more about the little prince from the changing light in his green eyes than from his answers-or lack of answers-to my questions. Asking him precise questions about where he came from was useless; he always answered them with irrelevancies. I had to exert my observation and discernment skills to piece together the story of his life from his random remarks.
“What are those things?” he asked, breaking my peaceful isolation.
I had emptied my pocket of the two portkeys inside.
Bitter at my stupidity for not recognizing the headmaster’s duplicity, I spat out:
“They’re not things. They are portkeys.”
“One took me here,” I scowled at the portkey shaped like three connected stars. Narrowing my eyes, I continued, “The other one … is supposed to take me back.”
The “return portkey” to Hogwarts is a sleeping dragon miniature. How so like the headmaster to pay proper respect to symbols even in deception.
“What! You came here by portkey?” he exclaimed, unperturbed by my ill humor.
“Yes!” I snapped, stowing the two portkeys back inside my pocket.
The boy suddenly howled in laughter. I examined him in cool irritation, thinking he had lost his mind in the high noon heat. After quieting down to snickers, the boy added:
“So you came here by portkey, too. What planet did you come from?”
Once again I questioned the wisdom in drinking my wormwood and nutmeg tea in the middle of the Sahara desert. The ritual of afternoon tea helped me retain my calm, but it seemed to have cost me my sanity. Why must I invent a boy who not only has the enemy’s face but also fancies himself an alien?
“So you,” I enunciated slowly, “came from another planet?”
He only shook his head absent-mindedly. “I was told that only mine can transport people across stars…” He clutched his fist inside his pocket. A haze veiled his green eyes. Settling down on the sand, he took out the owl drawing and sank into contemplation of his treasure.
As the sun finally conceded its throne in the apex of the sky, I calmly began the ritual of making my afternoon tea.
I poured some water from my flask into the earthenware kettle I had transfigured yesterday. With a spell, I started a fire on some thorn bushes in order to boil the water.
Next, I cast a Warming Charm to the earthenware teapot that I also transfigured yesterday. Using my silver tea scoop, I measured the exact wormwood and nutmeg needed for a good, strong cup of tea. This blend I then placed inside the teapot.
Once I was satisfied with the water temperature, I poured the boiling water into the teapot. I watched as the wormwood and nutmeg swirled and clouded the hissing water. I then gave the pot a gentle shake to allow the blend to settle.
Afterward, I poured the tea infusion with utmost carefulness into my bone china cup. Lifting my cup, I inhaled the pleasant aroma of hot tea. My perspiration immediately evaporated, leaving my body a whole lot cooler.
I decided that it was time to confront the boy, lest I lose what little sanity I had left. I had to ascertain whether he was the byproduct of my afternoon tea or a real living boy who had somehow escaped from St. Mungo’s.
“Where do you come from?” I demanded. “Where is this ‘planet’ of yours?”
He did not reply, still absorbed by the owl drawing. Annoyed, I transfigured three nearby stones into bread rolls for dinner. Without looking up, the boy reached for the roll closest to him. Raising my eyebrows at his lack of manners, I drawled: “I take it that the little prince is hungry?”
He only gave me an absent-minded smile and took a bite out of the roll. I waited for him to complain of the taste, but he quietly finished his roll. Puzzled, I bit into mine. Both rolls tasted of sand.
With a grudging respect toward the boy, I then asked him another question: “Where will you be taking the owl?”
That seemed to attract his attention. Although he still held the parchment in his hand, his gaze turned inward, as if in search of the home he had left behind.
“The good thing about her white feathers is that she will be like a beacon at night.”
Gritting my teeth at his flippant answer, I had to remind myself that this boy was not the enemy. He might be just another black-haired, bespectacled boy, onto whom I had projected the enemy’s face under some bizarre delusion. I would not put it past the headmaster to tamper not only with my wand but also with my visual perception.
I took a deep breath and resorted to bribery, “If you will just cooperate and answer my questions, I will also draw you a birdcage for her home.”
Instead of cheerfully cooperating, the boy’s blurred eyes sharpened. He turned and stared at me as if I were the St. Mungo’s escapee.
Furrowing his brows together, he seemed to conclude that I had no idea what I was talking about.
“A birdcage? Why would she need a birdcage?” he asked in all solemn seriousness.
Amazed at the boy’s propensity to turn all my questions around, I answered:
“If you don’t keep her in a birdcage, she will fly off somewhere and not return home.”
For the second time that day, the boy surprised me with his barked out laughter.
“Where can she fly off to?”
Bewildered at his sudden merriment, I held his green gaze and answered:
“Anywhere. Straight ahead of her.”
As quickly as it had lightened, his mood turned grave again. “Even if she does, it doesn’t matter. Everything is very small where I live.”
As if anticipating a question, he continued, “She will return home. Owls-birds-always return to their home.”
With a touch of sadness, he added, “Straight ahead, you can’t go very far…”
*****
Here are the issues that I want to bring up:
1) Harry’s OoC-ness:
He only shook his head absent-mindedly. “I was told that only mine can transport people across stars…”
trixiegogobunny wrote: “I’m not sure quite why, but this does strike me as a bit ooc of Harry…”
Harry is being all angsty and introspective ~_~ “Oh no! I’ve left my rose for one whole year!” I’m afraid angsty!introspective!Harry will probably continue to show up, esp. nearing the end of the fanfic…
Any suggestions to make Harry more IC?
Although he still held the parchment in his hand, his gaze turned inward, as if in search of the home he had left behind. […]
As quickly as it had lightened, his mood turned grave again. “Even if she does, it doesn’t matter. Everything is very small where I live.”
As if anticipating a question, he continued, “She will return home. Owls-birds-always return to their home.”
With a touch of sadness, he added, “Straight ahead, you can’t go very far…”
Angsty!introspective!Harry strikes again… ~_~ Perhaps I spoke too soon when I said he’s well-adjusted.
2) Snape's OoC-ness:
With a grudging respect toward the boy, I then asked him another question: “Where will you be taking the owl?” […]
Gritting my teeth at his flippant answer, I had to remind myself that this boy was not the enemy. He might be just another black-haired, bespectacled boy, onto whom I had projected the enemy’s face under some bizarre delusion. I would not put it past the headmaster to tamper not only with my wand but also with my visual perception.
I took a deep breath and resorted to bribery, “If you will just cooperate and answer my questions, I will also draw you a birdcage for her home.”
Is Snape too nice here?
What do you think, trixiegogobunny?
I had to exert my observation and discernment skills to piece together the story of his life from his random remarks.
Is Snape Slytherin enough, or does he let down too many guards around Harry?
tabigarasu wrote: "The first rule of Slytherin House is you do not talk about the rules of Slytherin House."
3) Snape’s paranoia re: Dumbledore:
Bitter at my stupidity for not recognizing the headmaster’s duplicity […]
The “return portkey” to Hogwarts is a sleeping dragon miniature. How so like the headmaster to pay proper respect to symbols even in deception. […]
Gritting my teeth at his flippant answer, I had to remind myself that this boy was not the enemy. He might be just another black-haired, bespectacled boy, onto whom I had projected the enemy’s face under some bizarre delusion. I would not put it past the headmaster to tamper not only with my wand but also with my visual perception.
I wrote: “It's just that I wonder if Dumbledore is evil/manipulative enough to tamper with Snape's wand to achieve his objective.”
To which albichorizon responded: “Well that would depend on the objective, wouldn't it?”
tabigarasu wrote: “I belong to the Dumbledore-is-either-evil-or-utterly-heartless-and-uses-people-like-pawns school of thought, and I'm sure Snape would too. He refers repeatedly to Dumbledore's deception with nary a mention of why he suspects Dumbledore of maliciousness.
It could just be Snape's paranoia, that if something goes wrong it couldn't have been a simple mistake, but had to have been intentional. I'm wondering, though, is there some backstory to the Snape-and-Dumbledore interaction to provide some explanation for the deceit?”
Yup, Snape’s a total paranoid (alihotsy incident and all). I haven't worked out any specific Snape-Dumbledore story, though it will tie in with "The Prank"--when Snape almost got killed by werewolf!Lupin.
Any ideas why Snape intensely distrust Dumbledore? He clearly does not distrust _everyone_, since he is quite unsuspicious of Harry. But then again, he thinks Harry is a byproduct of his afternoon tea. :-P
4) Snape’s tea-making ritual:
As the sun finally conceded its throne in the apex of the sky, I calmly began the ritual of making my afternoon tea.
I poured […]transfigured […] started […] cast […] transfigured […] measured […] placed […]poured […] watched […] gave the pot a gentle shake […] poured […] Lifting […] inhaled […]
My perspiration immediately evaporated, leaving my body a whole lot cooler.
That’s 177 words total (condensed from the original 557 words) and 13 active verbs (3 “poured,” 2 “transfigured” etc.)
Does this work as a transition between Harry sinking “into contemplation” and Snape deciding to confront Harry?
5) Misc. nitpicks:
“So you,” I began slowly, “came from another planet?”
rea_saint wrote: “How to describe the sinister, cynical, sarcastic, mocking, doubtful (of the subject’s intelligence), superior intelligence manner with which Snape would ask Canon!Harry a question?”
O.o What about:
ETA: “So you,” I enunciated slowly, “came from another planet?”
5a) “So you,” I said slowly, keeping my face blank, “came from another planet?”
(Because Snape thinks Harry is a nutjob and therefore should be treated with caution :-P )
OR
5b) Fighting the urge to raise an eyebrow, I said slowly, "So you ... came from another planet?" (courtesy of opsat's suggestion)
OR
5c) Fighting the urge to drawl, I said slowly, "So you ... came from another planet?"
Which one is more in character for Snape? Right now I prefer 5c) ...
Comments and/or suggestions please?
Both betas and non-betas, please comment :-) Thank you.
Hi all :-)
Here's the “published” Chapter three, keeping in mind trixiegogobunny, tabigarasu and rea_saint’s beta-ing comments and suggestions.
(BTW, I’ve changed one sentence in Chapter two: The headmaster had appointed Hogwarts Potions Master, instead of the Deputy Headmistress, to meet a high-ranking French wizard to discuss possible ties between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons.)
3
“Droit devant soi on ne peut pas aller bien loin...”
July 22, 1993
I learned more about the little prince from the changing light in his green eyes than from his answers-or lack of answers-to my questions. Asking him precise questions about where he came from was useless; he always answered them with irrelevancies. I had to exert my observation and discernment skills to piece together the story of his life from his random remarks.
“What are those things?” he asked, breaking my peaceful isolation.
I had emptied my pocket of the two portkeys inside.
Bitter at my stupidity for not recognizing the headmaster’s duplicity, I spat out:
“They’re not things. They are portkeys.”
“One took me here,” I scowled at the portkey shaped like three connected stars. Narrowing my eyes, I continued, “The other one … is supposed to take me back.”
The “return portkey” to Hogwarts is a sleeping dragon miniature. How so like the headmaster to pay proper respect to symbols even in deception.
“What! You came here by portkey?” he exclaimed, unperturbed by my ill humor.
“Yes!” I snapped, stowing the two portkeys back inside my pocket.
The boy suddenly howled in laughter. I examined him in cool irritation, thinking he had lost his mind in the high noon heat. After quieting down to snickers, the boy added:
“So you came here by portkey, too. What planet did you come from?”
Once again I questioned the wisdom in drinking my wormwood and nutmeg tea in the middle of the Sahara desert. The ritual of afternoon tea helped me retain my calm, but it seemed to have cost me my sanity. Why must I invent a boy who not only has the enemy’s face but also fancies himself an alien?
“So you,” I enunciated slowly, “came from another planet?”
He only shook his head absent-mindedly. “I was told that only mine can transport people across stars…” He clutched his fist inside his pocket. A haze veiled his green eyes. Settling down on the sand, he took out the owl drawing and sank into contemplation of his treasure.
As the sun finally conceded its throne in the apex of the sky, I calmly began the ritual of making my afternoon tea.
I poured some water from my flask into the earthenware kettle I had transfigured yesterday. With a spell, I started a fire on some thorn bushes in order to boil the water.
Next, I cast a Warming Charm to the earthenware teapot that I also transfigured yesterday. Using my silver tea scoop, I measured the exact wormwood and nutmeg needed for a good, strong cup of tea. This blend I then placed inside the teapot.
Once I was satisfied with the water temperature, I poured the boiling water into the teapot. I watched as the wormwood and nutmeg swirled and clouded the hissing water. I then gave the pot a gentle shake to allow the blend to settle.
Afterward, I poured the tea infusion with utmost carefulness into my bone china cup. Lifting my cup, I inhaled the pleasant aroma of hot tea. My perspiration immediately evaporated, leaving my body a whole lot cooler.
I decided that it was time to confront the boy, lest I lose what little sanity I had left. I had to ascertain whether he was the byproduct of my afternoon tea or a real living boy who had somehow escaped from St. Mungo’s.
“Where do you come from?” I demanded. “Where is this ‘planet’ of yours?”
He did not reply, still absorbed by the owl drawing. Annoyed, I transfigured three nearby stones into bread rolls for dinner. Without looking up, the boy reached for the roll closest to him. Raising my eyebrows at his lack of manners, I drawled: “I take it that the little prince is hungry?”
He only gave me an absent-minded smile and took a bite out of the roll. I waited for him to complain of the taste, but he quietly finished his roll. Puzzled, I bit into mine. Both rolls tasted of sand.
With a grudging respect toward the boy, I then asked him another question: “Where will you be taking the owl?”
That seemed to attract his attention. Although he still held the parchment in his hand, his gaze turned inward, as if in search of the home he had left behind.
“The good thing about her white feathers is that she will be like a beacon at night.”
Gritting my teeth at his flippant answer, I had to remind myself that this boy was not the enemy. He might be just another black-haired, bespectacled boy, onto whom I had projected the enemy’s face under some bizarre delusion. I would not put it past the headmaster to tamper not only with my wand but also with my visual perception.
I took a deep breath and resorted to bribery, “If you will just cooperate and answer my questions, I will also draw you a birdcage for her home.”
Instead of cheerfully cooperating, the boy’s blurred eyes sharpened. He turned and stared at me as if I were the St. Mungo’s escapee.
Furrowing his brows together, he seemed to conclude that I had no idea what I was talking about.
“A birdcage? Why would she need a birdcage?” he asked in all solemn seriousness.
Amazed at the boy’s propensity to turn all my questions around, I answered:
“If you don’t keep her in a birdcage, she will fly off somewhere and not return home.”
For the second time that day, the boy surprised me with his barked out laughter.
“Where can she fly off to?”
Bewildered at his sudden merriment, I held his green gaze and answered:
“Anywhere. Straight ahead of her.”
As quickly as it had lightened, his mood turned grave again. “Even if she does, it doesn’t matter. Everything is very small where I live.”
As if anticipating a question, he continued, “She will return home. Owls-birds-always return to their home.”
With a touch of sadness, he added, “Straight ahead, you can’t go very far…”
*****
Here are the issues that I want to bring up:
1) Harry’s OoC-ness:
He only shook his head absent-mindedly. “I was told that only mine can transport people across stars…”
trixiegogobunny wrote: “I’m not sure quite why, but this does strike me as a bit ooc of Harry…”
Harry is being all angsty and introspective ~_~ “Oh no! I’ve left my rose for one whole year!” I’m afraid angsty!introspective!Harry will probably continue to show up, esp. nearing the end of the fanfic…
Any suggestions to make Harry more IC?
Although he still held the parchment in his hand, his gaze turned inward, as if in search of the home he had left behind. […]
As quickly as it had lightened, his mood turned grave again. “Even if she does, it doesn’t matter. Everything is very small where I live.”
As if anticipating a question, he continued, “She will return home. Owls-birds-always return to their home.”
With a touch of sadness, he added, “Straight ahead, you can’t go very far…”
Angsty!introspective!Harry strikes again… ~_~ Perhaps I spoke too soon when I said he’s well-adjusted.
2) Snape's OoC-ness:
With a grudging respect toward the boy, I then asked him another question: “Where will you be taking the owl?” […]
Gritting my teeth at his flippant answer, I had to remind myself that this boy was not the enemy. He might be just another black-haired, bespectacled boy, onto whom I had projected the enemy’s face under some bizarre delusion. I would not put it past the headmaster to tamper not only with my wand but also with my visual perception.
I took a deep breath and resorted to bribery, “If you will just cooperate and answer my questions, I will also draw you a birdcage for her home.”
Is Snape too nice here?
What do you think, trixiegogobunny?
I had to exert my observation and discernment skills to piece together the story of his life from his random remarks.
Is Snape Slytherin enough, or does he let down too many guards around Harry?
tabigarasu wrote: "The first rule of Slytherin House is you do not talk about the rules of Slytherin House."
3) Snape’s paranoia re: Dumbledore:
Bitter at my stupidity for not recognizing the headmaster’s duplicity […]
The “return portkey” to Hogwarts is a sleeping dragon miniature. How so like the headmaster to pay proper respect to symbols even in deception. […]
Gritting my teeth at his flippant answer, I had to remind myself that this boy was not the enemy. He might be just another black-haired, bespectacled boy, onto whom I had projected the enemy’s face under some bizarre delusion. I would not put it past the headmaster to tamper not only with my wand but also with my visual perception.
I wrote: “It's just that I wonder if Dumbledore is evil/manipulative enough to tamper with Snape's wand to achieve his objective.”
To which albichorizon responded: “Well that would depend on the objective, wouldn't it?”
tabigarasu wrote: “I belong to the Dumbledore-is-either-evil-or-utterly-heartless-and-uses-people-like-pawns school of thought, and I'm sure Snape would too. He refers repeatedly to Dumbledore's deception with nary a mention of why he suspects Dumbledore of maliciousness.
It could just be Snape's paranoia, that if something goes wrong it couldn't have been a simple mistake, but had to have been intentional. I'm wondering, though, is there some backstory to the Snape-and-Dumbledore interaction to provide some explanation for the deceit?”
Yup, Snape’s a total paranoid (alihotsy incident and all). I haven't worked out any specific Snape-Dumbledore story, though it will tie in with "The Prank"--when Snape almost got killed by werewolf!Lupin.
Any ideas why Snape intensely distrust Dumbledore? He clearly does not distrust _everyone_, since he is quite unsuspicious of Harry. But then again, he thinks Harry is a byproduct of his afternoon tea. :-P
4) Snape’s tea-making ritual:
As the sun finally conceded its throne in the apex of the sky, I calmly began the ritual of making my afternoon tea.
I poured […]transfigured […] started […] cast […] transfigured […] measured […] placed […]poured […] watched […] gave the pot a gentle shake […] poured […] Lifting […] inhaled […]
My perspiration immediately evaporated, leaving my body a whole lot cooler.
That’s 177 words total (condensed from the original 557 words) and 13 active verbs (3 “poured,” 2 “transfigured” etc.)
Does this work as a transition between Harry sinking “into contemplation” and Snape deciding to confront Harry?
5) Misc. nitpicks:
“So you,” I began slowly, “came from another planet?”
rea_saint wrote: “How to describe the sinister, cynical, sarcastic, mocking, doubtful (of the subject’s intelligence), superior intelligence manner with which Snape would ask Canon!Harry a question?”
O.o What about:
ETA: “So you,” I enunciated slowly, “came from another planet?”
5a) “So you,” I said slowly, keeping my face blank, “came from another planet?”
(Because Snape thinks Harry is a nutjob and therefore should be treated with caution :-P )
OR
5b) Fighting the urge to raise an eyebrow, I said slowly, "So you ... came from another planet?" (courtesy of opsat's suggestion)
OR
5c) Fighting the urge to drawl, I said slowly, "So you ... came from another planet?"
Which one is more in character for Snape? Right now I prefer 5c) ...
Comments and/or suggestions please?
Both betas and non-betas, please comment :-) Thank you.