History of Magic 8PM, Wednesday February 10th, 2010 Classroom Grindelwald Era Plotting Memory Creation

OOC Reminders:
>>Assume your character is on time and present. If you have story reasons for a character being late, alert the instructor via PM.

>>If you are a new member/student, assume your character has been present in classes. Don't be afraid to post!

>>Be courteous to everyone's availability.

>>Above all, FUN!! (and don't destroy the classroom)

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Sissel had to admit, the NEWT History of Magic students were a dedicated bunch. Not many students would legitimately want to continue a class that met at the Godric awful hour of eight to nine at nine. First years were expected to follow curfew at that hour, unless it was an Astronomy night. Most would want to sleep off dinner in the comfort of their dormitories.

Not the NEWT few. The class was sized that the tables were huddled close to the hearth fire that Sissel had lit during this evening class. An attempt of coziness in the great room, away from the pillars and tapestries at cabinets of relics in the classroom. Nothing but dark out the windows. Even the enchanted blue mist that came from the mermish history grotto out the door was harder to see.

"Tonight," Sissel began when class started, "we will be examining the most frightful times of recent history on the planet. These are events with causes that are better viewed with a retrospective lens, as often during the original time of these incidents their outcomes are seen as uncontrollable but inevitable.

((The class topic will be about the time of Grindelwald during WWII and comparisons to Voldemort's reign of terror. Outside of canonically presented facts, the creation of 'new facts' is one of mutual collaboration. Don't seek out the 'correct' answer. Even in history theories are altered with new evidence. Check out the recent plotting topics for ideas.))

There were some days it was exceedingly difficult to stay awake and motivated for History of Magic.  Not through any fault of Professor Jowd or the course material but because of it's unfortunate placement in the day's schedule.  Even for Sasha, who was accustomed to a good many hours of study following this class, the late class after a long day was tough. 

But, luckily, he typically enjoyed the class material and rote memorization of facts and dates came easily to him.  It was also an appropriate change of pace from the math and logic dense Astronomy class that preceded history. 

Sasha settled himself in his usual seat: front row, closest to the window.  With his supplies readied and gathered on his desk, he listened closely to the class introduction. 

The topic sounded ominous enough and Sasha cast a quick, curious glance at his neighbor before turning back to Professor Jowd.  Even at this time of night, the information the professor laid out was able to capture even the most exhausted of students.  Sasha took a deep breath and straightened in his seat, already trying to tick through the list of sufficiently terrifying events in recent history.  There were a few candidates - the three wizarding wars, namely.  Which of them the professor intended to focus on was still a mystery.

History was actually a pleasure class for Liviana[1] - well it had been before Jowd took over. It wasn't that Liv took an instant disliking to all new Professors, it was just such a chore trying to learn how each new face wanted their questions answered. The classes late timing could have also been a factor in her recent distaste for it. After all there were only four days left until Valentines and though she and Ezra were still together there had been a cooling off period because time just was not on their side lately. There weren't enough hours in the day to be a start student and have a social life. Sixth year was painfully important and it didn't seem that the course work would be letting up any time soon.

It was with this notion and a heavy head that Livi had taken up her usual seat in the classroom, chin in hand as she idly twirled a quill betwixt her fingers. She had a vague sense of dread when Jowd began speaking. She knew eventually they would cover fairly recent history, history that maybe didn't feel so much like history but rather a fresh scab. She also knew in the laundry list of war crimes her brother's name would be listed. That was the trouble with being on the wrong side of the fight; you were not the only one who had to bear the brunt of your misdeeds. There was a sense of conflicted shame that hung over Liviana when she thought of Dominik and his role in the war. She was not ready  to deal with that publicly yet and found herself hoping that perhaps the Professor meant some other period of history, with a good generation gap between those who would remember and those left learning about it. Goblin battles didn't seem so bad now, really.

1.

uniform

Catching Sasha’s quick look, Theo’s faint smirk curved into a blank, innocent smile.


Although he sat in the front row as well– even closer to the center than Schlagenweit, which Theo was sure said something– the Slytherin had no great love for the class, despite his feelings on the subject. But there was no denying that it was useful and Jowd was competent, and so whatever inconvenience it posed him on principle was easily ignored. He had passed the OWL; he would simply work towards and pass the NEWT, too.

But today, however, seemed it would prove slightly different, and so Theo’s attention was rapt on the apparent task at hand, if not the class and the professor themselves. As usual he ignored his cousin’s entrance and the entrances of nearly everyone else, only interested in but a few, gaze narrowed at a point on the board as he thought. Wizarding history was riddled with calamities, some of the most often recalled having occurred just over a decade ago—but he had a feeling Professor Jowd meant events even older…

There was Morgan le Fay, who had played a significant role in many events,[1] and – of course – Voldemort, who had Risen not once, but twice. But then a memory stirred, and Theo recalled that one Prophet article, the one reporting a dead war hero.

Something akin to hope stirred in his chest. Expression marginally brightening, Theo looked at Sissel, intrigued.

1.	harrypotter.wikia

Boooo-riiiing! Everything about this class was so incredibly boring, that every time Bran attended it he felt like he had aged a year and got the wrinkles to go with it. He had no idea why he'd continued with it, in all honesty. At the time it had seemed like a good idea to continue with all the theoretical subjects, if merely for the fact that they were so easy to go through. Having to retain large quantities of information trumped having to actually do anything.

So he took a seat next to Livi and prepared himself mentally for what was surely to be the death of another few of his neurons. Except, perhaps it wouldn't, he thought to himself as he heard Jowd talk about today's class. Really, there were only two things that could fall into the category of most frightful times of recent history, namely: Dark Scientist "For the greater good" Grindelwald and Psychotic Drama Queen Extraordinaire–Lord "Snakeface" Voldie. Bran found himself smiling and brimming with excitement at the possibilities this lesson presented. After all, while events of times past, there were still students whose families avidly supported their actions, whose relatives had been killed in one such event, or whose relatives' actions in either of the wars had rained fire on the social life of future generations. Either way, it was a subject sure to be a sore spot for some, and Bran was so fond of drama.

"Honey, are you okay?" he asked frowning, turning to see Livi wasn't exactly in the best of moods. He leaned over the gap between them to put a hand on her upper arm, squeezing lightly and giving her the brightest of smiles. Whatever it was, surely it couldn't be so bad as to not be lightened up by the awkward squirming that was sure to happen soon in this truly intriguing class.

A lot of history was kind of really boring. No surprise there. Neely wished they would do a unit on something that suited her own interests-- period fashion, the evolution of Wizarding Britain’s social set, tabloid wars.

Taking a seat beside Bran, and only a seat down from Livi, with Sasha and Theo both in plain view at the front of the room, Neely was obviously distracted as the lesson started. She could multitask (hello, homework, Witch Weekly, and playing with Cashmere), but she only had one pair of eyes. Surely the professor could understand that dilemma. (Not that Neely planned on revealing that her attention was diverted).

But she caught Jowd’s words as her eyes swept from the back of a friend’s golden curls to the profile of Bran (a fabulous Point A and Point B; if they had been working on maps in one of their classes, Neely would get an O). Her eyes fluttered back toward the front for a moment and she considered what the man was saying. The Woolfolks were old money Purebloods whom her father had made obscenely more rich, but he hadn’t done it through getting involved in the sort of social politics that had consumed the last century. Blood status didn’t matter to Neely; taste did.

She heard Bran beside her, and turned her attention again toward the housemates in her row. Her lips parted as her latched onto Livi, looking for signs of distress. Neely couldn’t blame her; some classes were so taxing. Emotionally (History), physically (Creatures, anyone?), and psychologically (Again, hippogriffs with talons? really?). “I have some sugar quills,” she whispered comfortingly, eyes flickering back to the front of the room with the expertise of someone who frequently murmured to schoolmates while jotting notes. “Lemon and mint.” She touched her quill case, laid neatly on the desk beside her parchment and ink.

Neely understood the discomfort. Half of the students in the room were related to people who had fought on one side, or both, even. But it wasn’t as Livi herself had been a Death Eater, or a sympathizer. Finding the balance between loyalty to one's family and being part of a new generation was hard. Tradition was still very much a part of wizarding society (didn't Neely know it, some of the boring obligations she had over the summer?); things that had been expected of their mothers were still sometimes expected of them. Neely always wanted to hex people who said teenagers had it easy.

History of Magic was one of the classes Elizabeth felt a little less comfortable in.  That was mainly due to the fact that most of the students in the class knew at least some bit of wizarding history.  Before getting her Hogwarts letter and having been told that she possesses magical abilities, she knew nothing of the wizarding world.  Since arriving at Hogwarts though, Liza has read a lot of books on the history of such.  But she still felt it wasn’t quite the same as those who grew up knowing about it, having family who lived through the history.

Even though that was the case, she still really enjoyed learning about it and coming into class for it.  Today would be an interesting lesson, as Professor Jowd was going to start talking about some of the more recent history, combined with some of the old.  Liza had read about and been told about the recent-ish battle of Hogwarts, and the terrifying war that Voldemort raged. She also had read a lot on Grindelwald and what had happened then with Dumbledore. She felt fairly prepared, but would find the lesson informative as well.

Elizabeth took a seat somewhere behind Sasha, and prepared her quill and parchment for the lesson.

Wakey wakey or you'll get shakey was a tempting sing-song playing over in Sissel's mind. But no, his students at this hour were at the NEWT level, practically of age, so he would treat them like the adults they were. Adults that could handle the late hour. Adults like the matured yet 'young at heart' club types in Sissel's social circle.
 
"I don't have to wait for hands to be raised, do I?" Sissel never got the point of hand raising even as a dibbun first year. Add five more years of school experiences and Sissel hoped the students new class particulars enough to work themselves. It made his job easier.

"I can see many of you have some thoughts to share," he added, Theo's smirk standing out the most. "Here's a question for you then: Who is the earliest recorded Dark Artist in history?"

The castle’s hallways were half-way empty, which made bloody sense considering it was almost eight in the evening and darkness had already taken over the sky. It also didn’t help that he’d had a run in with a root earlier in the afternoon, and his mood was as dark as it ever had been. His bag swung from his left shoulder, and his lips remained pursed into a scowl, eyes narrowed into almost slits. He hoped –for the rest of humanity- that nobody would cross his way in any type of annoying fashion, or (Merlin help him) they’d be likely to end up hexed. Luckily –or maybe not so luckily, considering he had an itching to pull his wand on someone-, he reached the classroom with nobody stopping in his way.

As he stepped through the door, a few people had already arrived, and his blue eyes fell on Bran for just an instant before pulling away: the last thing he needed was to be thinking about him tonight. His frown deepening –if that was possible-, Tony made his way to the front of the classroom. He usually rather stay at the back, but this evening he wanted to keep himself from glancing at his Ex as much as possible, so it’d be better to be in front of him. Sitting next to Theo, he looked up just in time for Jowd to talk about the lesson at hand. Pulling out his quill and parchment, he realized too late that he’d not be able to take a nap if he was sitting at the front.

When the professor posed his question, Tony’s blue eyes turned to look at the man full on the fact. Nobody spoke up immediately, and his own neurons were already starting to stop running so he didn’t have the answer at hand. Instead, he shrugged, and replied in a dry, sarcastic tone. “Santa Claus?”

Sasha flinched and grimmaced, apologetically, to no one in particular when Professor Jowd reminded them they didn't need to raise their hands.  As far as he was concerned, raising hands wasn't a matter of maturity level (or lack there of), it was a matter of keeping order.  It made one's desire to speak known to everyone involved and, thereby, limited inadvertently speaking over someone else. 

Santa Claus?

Case in point.  Sasha had just opened his mouth to speak when an all too familiar voice spoke up with a less-than-helpful response.  The Ravenclaw blushed on behalf of his classmate and half-raised his hand before ignoring the Slytherin's response and speaking. 

"It depends on how one defines 'Dark Artist,' sir.  Whether by our own standards or by the standards of their peers.  If many of the practices used by ancient wizards were repeated today, they'd find themselves in Azkaban.  But there were still plenty who were considered 'Dark' by both our standards and the standards of those of their own time.  Herpo the Fool[1] of Ancient Greece was a known parselmouth and committed some of the darkest magic, by anyone's standards." 

Sasha chanced a quick glance up towards the board before looking back to Professor Jowd.  It was an interesting question, of course, but strayed somewhat from the initial topic.  "That doesn't help answer what would be the most frightful time of recent history."  At least, not directly.   

1.

Herpo

“And that’s up for debate as well, isn’t it,” Theo spoke up, tone mild as he picked up Sasha’s line of thought, the smile on his face twisting dryly. Hoult, of course, went ignored. “ ‘By anyone’s standards’. The value of horror is often determined by those most personally affected, just as it is determined by the victors,” although that went without saying. “A nation’s memory dwells better on domestic tragedy.”

But that hardly answered the question, and Theo knew as much. So without further ado the prefect plunged onward, intent on making his point. “Some still argue as to who was the greatest Dark wizard of all time,” he said, easing back more comfortably into his seat. Comfortable, he dragged out a book from his bag and propped it up against the desk, idly thumbing through its pages. “As the latest… plague-” A funny little smile twitched at the corners of his lips, just as it had when his classmate grouped parseltongue as a qualification, “of terror in last twenty years, Voldermort’s resurgence—and subsequent coup d’état—is still rather fresh in the minds of many. The registration and imprisonment of muggleborns, the mysterious disappearances of opposition, his treaty with dementors…”

Theo silently tsk’d, before that perfect nose wrinkled in distaste. “Bad business all around.”

And as he spoke, another page turned. When the last, known photograph taken of Gellert Grindelwald was sneering up at him, thin lips curled in contempt, Theo smiled back and looked up, meeting Sissel’s gaze again with a thoughtful look. “But that’s a bit more recent than what you’re looking for, isn’t it, professor?” Almost absentmindedly, he mused, “He hadn’t gone so far as to build his own prison, either…”

Sissel figured it wouldn't be long before his students struck upon the limitations of the question. What professionalism he had kept him from laughing outright at Anthony's suggestion of Santa Clause being a Dark Artist.

"Five points for Ravenclaw with Sasha's notice of how a 'Dark Artist' is defined. What constitutes an act of magic being Dark? Back in the preludes of recorded history, when witches and wizards were perhaps their most powerful and mysterious, what magic was considered dark? Or is it the intent? A Diffindo applied to the cutting of something besides string or wood could be considered more violent than an Unforgivable Curse."

"To an extent then the correct answer would be Herpo the Foul, being the most Dark in the earliest recorded history, as we do not know if there were others before him. But what of Herpo's acts made him Dark," Sissel asked, playing dumb to prompt more students into answering.

A wave of his wand brought the chalkboard rolling over to the front of the class, with some hyphen marks appearing in the rough spacing of an empty list. "Let's get some thoughts on the board. What makes a Dark Lord or a Dark Lady? Being a Parselmouth? We'd be including a founder of Hogwarts and noting that Grindelwald did not talk to snakes. Though he did build his own prison as Theo notes, unlike those that did not keep prisoners."

An inspired thought came to mind. "Let's say Father Christmas could be a Dark Lord. Not a stretch to imagine, some wizard with the loyalty of some industrious elves, capable of invading anyone's home and capable of magic able to invade the home of everybody in the span of one night. Who would consider that a Dark act?"

Bran was about to burst into laughter the second Jowd made a reference to elves in correlation with Father Christmas. Was this the best Hogwarts education had to offer? A History professor making references to the commercial figure of Santa Claus? Well, this was rather sad. "I'm sorry, Professor, but are we actually discussing Father Christmas as he has been distorted by society with the rise of puritanism in the 17th century?" he asked with the hint of amusement in his voice. "I think Christians might find that rather disrespectful" he mused with the tiniest bit of dramatic flair. Catholic Christian tho he may be, as the entirety of his family, but in truth Bran couldn't care less about respect shown to the religion. He was attempting to make a point, however. "In any circumstance, if we are actually talking about Father Christmas, wasn't he mostly associated with feasting and drinking -adult activities- rather than the giving of presents, breaking and entering and enslaving elves, sir?" he continued with a little smile.

"Or if we are in fact discussing the possible origin of Santa Claus, namely Saint Nicholas, is he not, among others, the patron saint of thieves, merchants and pawnbrokers? Some might argue the virtues and scruples of such individuals" he smiled sweetly, leaning his head on his hand. "But to answer your earlier question, Professor Jowd, wouldn't a possible answer be intent? Or better yet, malicious intent?" he straightened his posture again and crossed his arms over his chest. "You need intent to cast dark spells, and without the dark arts, you cannot actually be a Dark Lord—" he cringed, calling someone a Dark Lady was wildly misogynistic. "If you follow the logic of this syllogism, you can infer that the proposition is intent, sir" he half-asked half-stated. Wizards and witches weren't exactly known for their study of logic.

"But, after all, whether one is Dark or not, it depends on the beholder, does it not? We do not all have the same perceptions, we have not all been raised with the same set of values and morals. For a child born in a family of Dark Arts practitioners, those will be his moral compass, will they not?" he asked innocently casting his eyes around the class. If nobody had started getting uncomfortable with the discussion by now, Bran would make sure to stir the pot.

"Sure, if we are talking about the levels of damage or discomfort the actions of such an individual cause, I suppose we can use the term dark" he waved it off with a broad gesture of his hand. "But the term is rather discriminative, isn't it? The real world isn't exactly black and white... Of course, I mean no disrespect, Professor" he concluded with a curl of his lips, averting his gaze meekly while clasping his hands over the desk.

Sasha shifted in his seat, turning his attention more properly towards Whitman without looking directly at the Slytherin.  The definition of 'dark artist' hadn't been the only moral dilemma in the question put to them though Sasha had, until now, left the other unspoken.  The underlying implication in conversations like this was that tragedies and terrors could somehow be ranked. 

"...what magic was considered dark? Or is it the intent?...What makes a Dark Lord or a Dark Lady?"

The Ravenclaw shifted uneasily, again, turning back forward.  It was such a difficult question - both on an academic as well as a personal level.  After all, how many times had he and Professor Trishna circled this very question in relation to his own actions?  He'd turned his attention down to his hands and was watching them, trying to wrap his thoughts around an answer, when Professor Jowd posed the question of Father Christmas.  It was Blackwell who first contested the use of Father Christmas as an example. 

"Or if we are in fact discussing the possible origin of Santa Claus, namely Saint Nicholas, is he not, among others, the patron saint of thieves, merchants and pawnbrokers? Some might argue the virtues and scruples of such individuals"

"He was the patron saint of many," quickly added.  While Sasha shared Blackwell's Catholic upbringing, he still struggled to find the balance of those teachings of his upbringing and his newer identity as a wizard.  "Primarily of children, the wrongly accused and of repentant thieves.  I ... that ... he doesn't apply to this conversation."  Nor did it belong here.  After years of keeping his magical and home lives separate, he still struggled with instances when they started to bleed into each other.  Like this.  When they were attempting to talk about patron saints in a History of Magic. 

"I don't know if perceptions or childhood teachings matter all that much.  A purist might have been raised to think killing muggles is acceptable but that doesn't make his acting on that belief any more acceptable.  Death Eaters were arrested and convicted based on their individual actions, regardless of what they'd been taught." 

"Intent is certainly part of it, but it isn't all of it.  Diffindo might be able to cause more damage than an Unforgivable, though ... though I find that hard to imagine."  Sasha shuddered, slightly, and shook his head.  "But, Diffindo is a spell where the person's intent makes a difference.  It can be used to cut inanimate objects or in violence.  Dark magic, like ... like the Cruciatus curse..  It has only one intent.  To inflict pain and torture.  It exists for no other reason.  It has no other purpose." 

All which, Sasha knew, didn't answer Professor Jowd's question. 

"There are lots of grey areas - lots of people who fall into the grey areas," Sasha conceded, glancing back towards Blackwell, briefly.  "But, when we're talking about ... Dark Lords, we're talking about when the black far outweighs with the white in the mix of grey.  And, they seek their own gains and advancements at the sacrifice of others.  Herpo the Fool, Grindelwald, Voldemort.  Similar figures in the Muggle World. They didn't just inflict violence on others but they did so for their own gain.  The term itself, Dark Lord, even implies we place them in higher regard for their crimes even as we denounce their actions."