InsaneJournal

on boggarts and bullying: a tl;dr
Last night was the first time I had to seriously sit down and think of what my characters' boggarts are at WAH. Jules and Geoff were easy, once I put my mind to it: Jules is terrified of Amycus Carrow, with the leering and "MAKE IT SEXIER" kinds of comments at musical rehearsals, as well as everything he's been making them do in Dark Arts and what he does when they don't do it. Like Meg, I was kind of surprised that Zoe was the first one in comments to have a Carrow as a boggart, because they both make a sort of sense to be boggart-ish, the way the school year's going. Geoff, the protector, of course his boggart comes from his deep fear of his younger siblings being hurt. At this point, he really doesn't care if he loses his prefect badge or not, the only thing that's actually keeping him from outrightly fighting the Carrows is that he would never be able to live with himself if something happened to Chris or Sadie because of something he did or didn't do. So it's only natural that his boggart would take the form of his younger siblings being tortured and bruised and bloody and hurt.

But Terry, ... for him I had to actually sit for quite a while and really think. What's his biggest, deepest fear? What would a boggart draw upon to attack him? No doubt, he's afraid of his friends being hurt because of him, of the Carrows using Parvati to keep him in line. Of his brothers being hurt. Of Thalia and his parents being attacked, since they're all out there in the Real World where people are actually dying. These are all valid, war-related fears.

But then I pulled up his bio, to see if I could find something in there that would be more powerful than any of those. And I realized that his greatest fear, his boggart, was something that really should have been readily obvious to me, because it could easily be my boggart, too. (You know, if the boggart didn't decide to go for the obvious and take advantage of either my fear of heights or my fear of sharks.)

His boggart is the kids who used to taunt and bully him as a kid. I mean, really. Especially considering something I mentioned to my Wayne on Saturday, it really should have been glaringly obvious to me.

I don't talk about this much (because I, like Sally, prefer to try to pretend that the negatives from the past don't exist, didn't happen, just ignore them), but in elementary school, from first grade all the way through fifth grade (and I've no doubt it would've continued if we hadn't moved that summer), I was teased and tormented and bullied on a daily basis by one of my classmates. I've long moved past it, I've accepted that the daily teasing and bullying has turned me into the person I am today, and that's not a horrible person to be. I don't know what I would've been like if I hadn't had my self-confidence shattered every day for five years. Do I wish I had more self-confidence? Of course. But I'm doing okay.

But at the same time, if John was standing right here in front of me, there's a really good chance I'd punch him in the face. Maybe knee him in the stomach, too. I don't hold any particular grudge against him anymore, I've long let that slide, but there will always be a part of me that just wants to make him hurt, for all the pain and hurt he put me through for five years. I didn't even get much "reprieve" from him during the summer breaks because he lived down the street from my best friend, so whenever I was over at her house and we were playing in the backyard, there was always the chance he'd show up.

As a young child (six-seven years old), Terry was also tormented and bullied on a near-daily basis by neighborhood kids, who sometimes beat him up. They called him names and taunted him, all because he was a nerd. He was this skinny, gangly, awkward kid who read way above his grade level and liked talking about places far away and about history. He was practically wearing a gigantic sign with a target and "BULLY ME!!" written on it. Unlike me (John teased and tormented me for being short, which is hardly something I can change about myself), Terry actually could do something to reduce the amount he was bullied. He got into sports. He strove to become a jock because surely then people wouldn't taunt him and bully him, not if he could beat them at football. So he did, he became a jock. He was still a history geek, but he was also a jock who could fight back if someone wanted to try to beat him up. He never outright went up to his former bullies and beat them up in retaliation for all the beatings he got at their hands, but oh, how a part of him would love to.

He still feels like that awkward geek he was as a kid, though. Even now, eleven or so years later, even as he jokes about being a geek, those are still very valid, very old scars. The physical scars are long gone, but the mental ones, the ones on his psyche, they'll never fade away, those are the scars that live on forever.

And because he tried so hard, worked so hard and so much to become someone different than "Wimpy Girl Terry," of course he's going to have this deep-rooted fear of being that kid again. The one who is frequently beaten up, taunted, tormented, with his tormenters looming above him, about to beat him up again.

And Amycus Carrow wants him to take his wand and cast a cruciatus on his fear. Amycus Carrow wants Terry to hurt these boys who hurt him so much and so badly when he was so young. Amycus Carrow is putting these boys right in front of him and saying "It's okay to hurt them. Go ahead and hurt them. Make them pay for all the pain, all the hurt, everything they put you through when you were little. Go ahead, do it."

If you put John in front of me and told me that it's okay for me to punch him in the face, would I say no? Would I stand by my non-violent morals and refrain from hitting him? Would I look him in the eye and tell him I'm the bigger person, I'm not going to hit him? As much as I would love to say that yes, I'd be the bigger person and walk away, not hit him ... honestly, I probably would. I'd probably break my hand in the process, but I'd punch him in the face.

And so despite the fact that Terry warned his friends and his family that he wasn't going to cast the cruciatus, no matter what Carrow threatened to do if he didn't, he's going to cast it. He's going to feel like absolute shit afterwards, in part because he just compromised his own morals by casting the cruciatus, and in part because the damned boggart just dredged up some very deep-rooted, long-buried memories. At least the second DA class is only an hour long, so he won't have too terribly long to be sitting in class, staring very intently at his desk, refusing to talk to anyone. And then as soon as Carrow dismisses the class, he's going to be out of his seat and moving quickly through the school to the Ravenclaw common room, then straight up to his dorm, where he's going to pull the curtains on his bed, cast a charm on them to keep them closed, and yes, it doesn't matter that he's an eighteen-year-old boy, goddammit he is going to cry because even with the war raging on in the school around him, those stupid boys from eleven years ago still have the ability to get to him and make him feel like Wimpy Girl Terry all over again.

And he doesn't want anyone to see him cry.



Which, I guess, answers that meme about "how are your characters like you" with regards to Terry.