OVERANALYZING THE TEXT

Cindy wrote:

That said, we do need someone to devise a theory for why Sirius hates Snape so much. This is more than just the hatred Sirius has at the end of GoF. For some reason, Sirius hated Snape enough to play the Prank, but I haven't seen a LOLLIPOPS, George, CUPIDSBLUDGER, Prince, Mercy, Mercy II type of explanation that I find compelling. Any takers?

::raises hand tentatively::

Might I suggest my own variant on C.U.P.I.D.S.B.L.U.D.G.E.R.?

I suggest that Florence was Sirius' girlfriend. Sirius was the one Bertha Jorkins saw kissing behind the greenhouses, and he was indeed the one who hexed her for her nosy ways. The canon to back this up is the hostility in Sirius' tone whenever he speaks of Bertha to Harry:

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins . . . She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination."

and

"Maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all -- quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut."

Now why would an all-around good guy like Sirius have been so upset by being teased about kissing a girl, of all things, that he would not only cast a hex on poor Bertha Jorkins but also still be holding a grudge about it nearly twenty years later?

Well, because Florence, as amiable and Dead Sexy as she might have been, was also a member of House Slytherin. Their love—what with Voldemort on the rise and all—was a Forbidden Love, and they had been keeping their relationship a secret from all of their friends, which is why they were hiding out behind the greenhouses in the first place.

<Elkins pauses here, to allow the more sentimental romantics to break out their hankies>

Once Bertha Jorkins spilled the beans, though, all hell broke loose. The revelation that Sirius and Florence had been conducting a clandestine relationship sat well with neither Florence's Slytherin companions (half of whom had the hots for her themselves) nor with Sirius' friends. James and Remus were hurt that he hadn't trusted them with his secret; little Peter kept squealing over and over again "A Slytherin girl? Sirius, how could you?"; and Lily got decidedly thin-lipped over the matter, as she and Florence had been academic rivals ever since their very first day at Hogwarts -- a rivalry which had only been exacerbated by their shared expertise in the field of Charms.

Neither Sirius' attempts to defend his unconventional relationship ("But guys, she's really, really brave! I mean, she probably never should have been sorted Slyth in the first place!") nor Florence's own ("Oh, do shut up, Lestrange. Sirius Black is Dead Sexy. And besides, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?") sufficed to sway the disapproval of their respective peers, and so in the end, with much moaning and angst, they parted ways.

Now although Sirius did take for a time to sitting by the shore of the lake, staring broodishly off into the mid-distance while tossing bread crusts to the giant squid, his generally ebullient nature—not to mention the emotional safety net of his friends—soon saw him through this crisis, and he emerged relatively unscathed.

Florence on the other hand...

Well, Florence brooded. She dwelled. She had that Slytherin tendency towards resentment, don't you know, and unlike Sirius, she didn't have a very close circle of friends to see her through. She became...withdrawn. Bitter. Twisted. She began to hold the Gryffindors (especially that nasty little Mudblood Lily Evans) solely responsible for the break-up; her mind turned to thoughts of bloody vengeance. She also started pestering her classmate Severus "I Know More Hexes Than Old Flitwick Himself" Snape to teach her all of the nastiest curses he knew. He, of course, was more than happy to do this because (a) he kind of had a thing for her himself, (b) it flattered his ego, and (c) he knew damned well that being seen in Florence's presence all the time would really twist the knife into old Sirius Black, whom he despised.

Which it did. Sirius was absolutely convinced that there was something of a romantic nature going on between his beloved Florence and that slimy oily git Severus, and worse, whatever it was was clearly beginning to corrupt the poor girl's mind -- she had taken to staring over at the Gryffindor table during mealtimes with a dreamy smile on her face while absently pulling the wings off of flies, and she now smirked malevolently whenever anyone fell down and skinned their knee...well, it was just plain disturbing, was what it was. And in Sirius' mind, clearly a result of Snape's Bad Influence.

So this was the real motivation underlying the viciousness of Sirius prank. While he might have told himself that "he just wasn't thinking," deep down inside he wanted Snape dead. Dead, dead, dead, as Cindy would put it. To save his girl, you see. To save her from Snape's bad influence.

'Course, it didn't work. Florence eventually went on to marry Lestrange, become a Big Bad Evil Death Eater, and wind up in Azkaban.

So this is the reason that Sirius hates Snape so much. Because Snape corrupted his Lost Love and led her into Darkness.

And this is also the reason that Snape hates Sirius so much. Because he thinks that Sirius' rejection of Florence is what...well, what corrupted his Unrequited Crush and led her into Darkness.

(Actually Florence was never a very nice person to begin with. But neither of the two lads realized that, you see, because she was just so darned sexy.)

As canonical evidence for this theory, I offer the following:

(1) Florence has a first name, but no last name. Mrs. Lestrange has a last name, but no first name. Coincidence? Oh, I think not!

(2) Sirius' strange omission of Mrs. Lestranges first or maiden name when he lists her as a member of Snape's old gang. He is thinking back to people he knew as students. Wouldn't you think that he would identify Mrs. Lestrange by her maiden name, or even by her first and maiden name? Surely the Lestranges were not married until after they left Hogwarts. And while Gryffindors do tend to refer to their rival males in Slytherin by surname only, their sense of chivalry generally leads them to grant female Slyths first names as well. (In Harry's mind, for example, Draco Malfoy is almost always merely "Malfoy;" Pansy Parkinson, on the other hand, is never "Parkinson." She is "Pansy Parkinson," or sometimes just "Pansy.")

It's odd, isn't it? That Mrs. Lestrange's inclusion in the list should be subsumed into her husband's identity like that? She's almost glossed, really: "The Lestranges -- they're a married couple -- they're in Azkaban."

It almost sounds as if Sirius would rather not talk about her—or even to think about her—at all, doesn't it? Consistent, surely, with how one might talk about ones Lost Love, when said Lost Love not only married somebody else, but also became a ravenously sadistic Dark Witch?

and finally:

(3) Dumbledore's Pensieve. Remember that the memory from which he recalls Harry is the Lestranges' sentencing. Shortly thereafter, his Pensieve coughs up the memory of his interview with the young Bertha Jorkins, right after the hexing incident. He remembers asking her:

"But why, Bertha, . . . why did you have to follow him in the first place?"

The anguished tone seems rather out of keeping for a simple matter of a fast hex, doesn't it? No, Dumbledore's agony there arises from his wise suspicion that this entire Sirius Black affair is going to prove the last straw for the unstable young Florence, that it will be the catalyst which will push her right over the edge into Darkness.

Dumbledore's a smart guy that way.

And of course, his expression of weariness and sorrow right after witnessing that memory is two-fold. He is actually mourning the sorry fates of not just one girl there, but two: both of Bertha Jorkins, whose tendency to nosiness and gossip brought her to such an unfortunate end, and of young Florence, who showed such great promise as a student and who might not have gone wrong at all, had she not been embittered at such a tender age by House rivalry and tragically Doomed Love.

<Elkins blinks back a few tears herself, then bats feebly at her eyes with a stray bloody feather>

So indeed, Contrary to Unrequited Passion Infelicitously Devouring Severus, Black's Love of an Unkmown Damsel did Get the Expected Response -- namely, pure and mutual hatred between Sirius and Severus, each of whom to this very day blames the other for the spiritual corruption and unlucky fate of a lovely young girl who might otherwise have grown up to do nothing more dire than bustle cheerfully around her kitchen, baking chockie-chip cookies for her passel of beautiful children.

—Elkins, wondering if due to the sneakily subversive nature of this theory, it should rightfully be called "Cupid's Snitch."