Harry Potter and the Gaze of the Artifacts
An Allegorical Pastiche
Today, the date of original publication of this piece, is Christmas Eve. The holiday season seems a poor time to serve you one of our regular exercises in analysis of mobility innovation. So instead, I have taken the arguments I made earlier this month in The Case for Public Surveillance, and cast them into a very different form. I hope you enjoy this story. Consider it my gift to you, offered with my wishes for a happy Christmas.
And if I am honest, this is also a Christmas present I have given to myself: a tribute to Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, my favourite fanfic; a work I have enjoyed so much that I felt compelled to pay it tribute. HPMOR fans will see that I have done my best to make this work consistent with both HPMOR!Harry and Canon!Harry, but where I had to choose, I chose canon.
And so, without further ado, the curtain rises to show a classroom at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, only a few months into Harry Potter’s first year as a student there…
The November chill had crept into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Professor Quirrell's absence came without warning or explanation, though given his unpredictability, few students were surprised. What did surprise them was the dark figure who swept through the door in his place. He stood at the side of the classroom, back straight, lips drawn in tight line.
Ron whispered to Harry “Snape’s always wanted to teach this, instead of Potions.”
Harry whispered back “Perhaps then he’ll behave better than he usually does.”
Snape moved to the front, his footsteps making sharp report against the stone floor. His voice cut through the murmuring first-years like a knife.
“Today, we will discuss something fundamental to the Defense Against the Dark Arts: the eternal struggle between concealment and detection.”
Harry frowned. He was used to sneering from Snape, but the man’s usual exaggerated contempt had been replaced with an unnerving flatness. The Slytherins, who typically preened under their Head of House's attention, sat unnaturally still. They especially could sense the change in Snape's demeanor. His cold intensity was unsettling: the difference between a sharp blade in a sheath, and one drawn and held.
“In the magical world, those who wish us harm rarely approach directly. They hide. They deceive. They transform.” Snape's dark eyes swept across the classroom. “Therefore, defending oneself requires not just knowledge of shields and counter-curses, but the ability to reveal what others wish to keep hidden.”
With a flick of his wand, he dimmed the classroom lights and conjured a shimmering list in the air. “The tools of concealment are many. The Disillusionment Charm, which renders the subject nearly invisible. Invisibility Cloaks, though true ones are vanishingly rare. The Obliviate spell, which can erase the memory of the caster from the mind of the target, along with the memory that one has been Obliviated. Polyjuice Potion, which allows one wizard to assume the exact appearance of another.”
The students shifted uneasily in their seats. Several of the Muggleborn students looked disturbed. They were still adjusting to the existence of magic itself, and now they were learning how easily it could be used to deceive. Some of the children from wizarding families were paying close attention as well. Neville had shrunk back in his chair. Malfoy's usual smirk was present, but it no longer touched his eyes.
Hermione's hand shot up. “Professor, isn't Polyjuice Potion restricted?”
“One point to your House,” Snape said. The whole class murmured at that, the Slytherins not least; none of them were used to seeing Snape give points to a House not his own. Apparently, the opportunity to teach Defense was having an effect on him. “Yes, Miss Granger. Its brewing is controlled precisely because of its potential for misuse. Which brings us to our central point.”
He waved his wand again, and a second ghostly list appeared. “For every method of concealment, wizardry has a response. Revelio spells can detect hidden objects and dispel basic disguises. Sneakoscopes spin and whistle in the presence of untrustworthiness. Secrecy Sensors vibrate near Dark magic and concealment spells.”
Ron leaned over. “Dad says they've got those all over the Ministry now.” Harry nodded but did not speak.
“Even the mind itself is not beyond this eternal contest,” Snape continued, his voice growing softer, more dangerous. “There were once those with the power to extract thoughts and memories from an unwilling mind. But there were also those who could seal their thoughts away behind walls of will, making their minds as unreadable as a blank page.” His lips quirked. “Those arts are now lost. But the fact of their existence shows that the struggle between concealment and detection reaches into the deepest recesses of our being.”
Harry frowned, there was something about what Snape had just said, or the way he had said it, that seemed a bit off—
But Snape continued, and Harry, distracted, forgot his concern. “Magical Britain has long understood that safety demands eternal watchfulness. Consider Gringotts, that most secure of institutions; it employs the Thieves' Downfall—an enchanted waterfall that washes away all magical concealment. One cannot rely on appearances alone.”
Snape's lip curled as he continued. “And yet, despite the clear necessity, there are those who resist implementing these protective measures more broadly. The Board of Governors refuses to place Secrecy Sensors in every corridor of Hogwarts. The Ministry wrings its hands while debating whether to extend such simple protections to public spaces.”
He paused, the silence chilly. “We know the fruit of such hesitation. It is bitter.”
Harry felt a surge of irritation. His life before Hogwarts had been one distinctly lacking in autonomy. Hogwarts had given him more freedom, but not enough. And now Snape was arguing for more surveillance? Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “But sir, we already have Filch stalking the corridors every night. Mrs. Norris following everyone around. Do we really need more watching?”
There were a few intakes of breath at this. Snape never refused a challenge, and one from Harry would doubtlessly provoke him all the more. But as Snape's black eyes fixed on Harry, Draco Malfoy's drawl cut in.
“Of course we do, Potter,” he said, smirking. “Anyone who is afraid of being watched must have something to hide. The Wizengamot has debated this, and my father, Lord Malfoy, has said that wizards who follow the rules have nothing to fear from being watched, and everything to gain.”
“Five points to Slytherin for your insight, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said silkily. “Potter, on the other hand, seems to value his privacy over the safety of his fellow students. I would not expect anything less from such a… celebrity as he is. Tell me, then, what would you have us do? Allow anyone willing to bear a disguise to walk these halls unchecked?”
“That's not what I meant, sir. But there's a difference between being safe and being watched all the time—”
“And are you not watched all the time, Potter? There are portraits everywhere in this castle. There are few places within these walls where you are not seen. You know that they can be used to send messages. Could not anyone learn anything that happens within this school from them?”
Whispers rippled through the dimmed classroom, echoing off the stone walls. Ravenclaws frowned, while Slytherins and Gryffindors looked appalled. Only the Hufflepuffs seemed unfazed. Harry, for his part, went cold; he’d not thought of this before. It made him really, really want to learn the Disillusionment Charm. Or perhaps get one of those Invisibility Cloaks Snape had mentioned.
Snape’s voice cut over the noise. “To my regret, it is not consistently possible. Some places have no portraits. Most places do, but their portraits are often not paying attention, or don’t understand what they see, or it does not occur to them to report, or even to remember. Magical as they are, they are still only paint and canvas.
“No, the portraits offer only paltry security. More is needed.” He drew back into himself, and he spoke more softly. “Consider. How many students have been bullied in empty corridors? How many first-years terrorized when prefects weren't watching?”
Neville Longbottom, usually silent, raised his hand tremblingly. “Last month,” he said quietly, “some bullies practiced jinxes on me in the hallway. I never found out who. If there'd been a way to catch them...” He trailed off.
“Precisely.” Snape's tone held an unfamiliar note of approval. “And it is not merely a matter of catching wrongdoers after the fact. The very knowledge that actions can be detected serves as a deterrent. And that is why more surveillance is necessary. Both here in Hogwarts, and elsewhere.”
Snape paced, raking his gaze across the students. “Yes, elsewhere. There are precedents. Even now, every one of you is under the Trace, marking any magic you perform outside school. Every witch and wizard under seventeen years is subject to this surveillance. Magical Britain has long accepted such measures as necessary.
“But the Trace is merely the most obvious example,” Snape continued. “Consider the humble post owl. Have you never wondered how they find their recipients, anywhere in the world? They track you. The magic that guides them knows where every wizard and witch stands at every moment. We accept this because it is convenient; because it brings us our letters and parcels. Yet it is surveillance nonetheless, is it not?”
Several students began to squirm, glancing at the windows as though expecting to see owls watching them.
“The magical world,” Snape said softly, “has always understood that safety and convenience require surrendering a degree of privacy. The question is only whether, having paid that price, we will buy all the safety and convenience we can. If we do not, why, we place our Galleons on the shopkeep’s table, but then leave without our purchases. I say we should use these capabilities to their full potential, rather than pretend we do not live with them already.”
He stared at Harry, hard. “Those who turn away from this choice often speak of privacy. Yet they rarely mention those who suffer most from its abuse: the vulnerable and the isolated.” He turned away, his gaze leaving Harry; sweeping past Neville; to the wall, as if he was speaking only to himself. “In my experience, those who most loudly champion freedom are those who already have power. Whereas the voices of those who need protection are left unheard.”
Disillusionment spell icon from Hogwarts Legacy
“But detection methods can make mistakes, can't they, Professor?” Hermione asked. “I read about a case where a Sneakoscope kept going off around a perfectly innocent wizard… it turned out he just had a Jarvey as a pet, and they're naturally deceptive creatures.”
“Your observation has merit, Miss Granger. Another point to your House,” Snape said, although he pursed his lips as he said it. “No means of magical detection is without flaw. The Thief's Downfall at Gringotts will wash away all enchantments of guise, no matter whether they are to abet crime or merely vanity. Secrecy Sensors will warn of harmless privacy charms as well as Dark magic.”
“But Professor,” Draco interjected, clearly annoyed at Hermione winning a House point, “surely a few false alarms are worth it? Father says that before these detection methods were installed at the Ministry, a Dark wizard used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate a member of the Wizengamot. And the Aurors kept meeting others with cursed artifacts, smuggled out of the Department of Mysteries.”
Ron had been fidgeting in his seat, and now he couldn't contain himself any longer. “That would all be well and good, Malfoy,” he burst out, “if these tools really could protect people. But half these detection things don't even work properly! We've got this clock at home, right? Shows where everyone in the family is at all times. Mum loves it, always knowing where we all are...”
He shifted uncomfortably as Snape's dark eyes fixed on him. “But Fred and George figured out ages ago how to trick it. They learned to make it show they're 'at home' or 'in the garden' when they're really up to who knows what. And they're just third years! So what's the point? The only thing it's good for is getting me in trouble when I'm actually following the rules, while they get away with everything!”
“An interesting perspective, Mr. Weasley,” Snape said silkily. “Though perhaps your brothers' ability to circumvent your mother's surveillance says more about the effectiveness of that tool than about the effectiveness of magical detection in general.”
“But that's just it, isn't it?” Ron pressed on, emboldened by not having lost House points yet. “The people who really want to get around these things will find a way. Meanwhile, the rest of us have to put up with being watched all the time!”
Draco sneered. “Leave it to a Weasley to complain about proper security measures. I suppose when you live in a house that's practically falling down—”
“Enough,” said Snape. “Mr. Weasley is correct that weak detection is worse than no detection at all. The innocent bear its weight while the guilty slip free. Worse, the watchers become complacent, lulled into a false sense of security. And Mr. Malfoy is correct that the solution is to do better.”
He paused, and Harry, watching, got the sense he was deciding whether to say more. After a moment, Snape drew himself up, and said “We exist, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, in a world of watchers and watched. And had we understood this during the war, many lives might have been saved.”
The words “the war” fell into the classroom like stones into still water. Lavender Brown pressed her quill down so hard the nib broke. Neville's face went chalk-white. Seamus gasped, as did others.
But Snape continued as if he had not heard. “The question is not whether to employ these means of detection. It is whether we will use them effectively.”
Draco sat straighter, the earlier smirk replaced by something hungrier. “Speaking of the war, Professor...” he said, his voice carrying clearly across the now-silent classroom, “there was one detection method that proved particularly effective. The Dark Mark.” There were more intakes of breath. Neville's hands began trembling more violently. “My father told me about it. No one marked could hide. No one could lie about their location or their loyalty. It was perfect surveillance.”
“Perfect?” Harry's hands clenched into fists beneath his desk. “It was slavery!”
“It was security, Potter!” snapped Draco, his drawl forgotten, his usually-pale face flushed. “The Dark Lord could find any of his followers instantly. Could protect them if they were in danger. Could know if they were truthful in their reports. Could gather them all with a single thought. What watching charm or revealing spell that we have today can do all that?”
“And he could torture them from anywhere too,” Ron muttered, but loudly enough to be heard. “Dad said they'd sometimes find Death Eaters writhing on the ground, being punished through their Marks. Some security.”
Snape spoke. “The consequences of disloyalty were... significant,” Snape said softly. He drew back and absently placed his right hand over his left arm. “As were the rewards for faithful service. The Dark Mark was indeed the most powerful detection magic ever created. It could not be fooled, could not be blocked, could not be removed.” His words thickened. “It bound not just the body, but the soul itself. The ultimate tool for total control.”
“Exactly!” said Draco triumphantly, missing the shadow that had crossed Snape's face. “If we had something like that now—”
“Then we would have something worse than the problem it solved,” Snape cut in, his tone sharp. “What you describe, Mr. Malfoy, is not detection, but dominion. Not surveillance, but subjugation. The Dark Lord did not create the Mark to protect his followers, but to own them.”
The classroom was utterly silent now. Even Draco seemed to have lost some of his certainty, looking between his Head of House's face and the arm that Snape was still unconsciously gripping.
Revelio spell icon from Hogwarts Legacy
Hermione, oblivious to emotional and social undercurrents, spoke up again. “Professor,” she said hesitantly, “isn't it possible that such magic could be used... differently? Not for control, but for protection? Like, perhaps, a contract, a magically enforced one. If people chose to be bound by it, agreed to its terms...”
Snape's eyes snapped to her with sudden intensity, and his arms fell to his sides. For a long moment, he studied her, and when he spoke, his voice held an unfamiliar note of... respect?
“Indeed, Miss Granger. The Dark Lord saw the potential of such magic and used it as none had before. But there were others who had the same insight. Throughout history, wizards have bound themselves together in other ways; freely surrendered their freedom of action for the benefits that surrender provided.
“Consider Hogwarts itself. The very founding of this school was predicated on the balance between protection and trust. The wards of Hogwarts monitor your health and well-being, and alert the faculty if you come to serious harm. Its vaults hold artifacts that can pierce through any deception to reveal what lies in the depths of our hearts.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping around the classroom, as if what he said was of such importance, he wished to underscore it by meeting the eyes of every student. Seemingly satisfied, he continued:
“And Hogwarts does not permit older students to Apparate in nor out. Indeed, none may do so; not even the Headmaster. This is an inconvenience to be borne, even a liberty of which we have been deprived. But we are safer for it, a large gain for a small price. Nor is that all. As part of the great magics the Founders used to raise this place, they produced a Map that displayed the true name of everyone within its walls; long since lost, yes, but a valuable tool in the hands of Hogwarts’ headmasters, while they had it. And no student nor professor felt that giving that knowledge to the headmaster to be an imposition. They understood the value of it.
“None living today commands magic as potent as that wielded by the Founders, when they raised Hogwarts. But if our magic is not as eldritch as theirs, it does have the benefit of centuries of experience. Our detection methods have evolved since this school opened its doors. In the past, Aurors relied heavily on witness testimony under Veritaserum, easily tampered with by Obliviate spells and False Memory Charms.”
Snape's eyes glittered. “But now, devices like Secrecy Sensors can instantly reveal what spells try to hide. The Thieves' Downfall at Gringotts accomplishes in seconds what would once have required dozens of counter-spells. Where once we relied on basic Intrusion Charms, we now have Intruder Eyes, that can identify particular wrongdoers. Where our Sentinel Statues once looked only for presence, they now can look for patterns of movement, spells cast, even intentions.”
He paused, and then rapped out:
“What wizards and witches can do, our Charmed items can do more efficiently.
“Only a fool cannot see it; only a fool would not use them. They grow in power even as spells fade. I have argued that such items should be everywhere in Hogwarts. And not just here, but Hogsmeade, and Diagon Alley, and every place where witches and wizards congregate. If such measures are deemed essential for the Ministry's protection, one wonders why they are not deemed equally essential elsewhere.”
Harry spoke again, having thought ahead for once. “But who watches the watchers, sir?”
Snape turned his penetrating gaze on him. Harry braced himself for a cutting remark and a House point penalty; he had expected it, but had not let it stop him. But Snape merely looked for a moment, then said “Your question is obvious, Potter, but nonetheless worth asking. Wizardkind has long grappled with it. Some would say that is precisely why we have the Ministry, the Wizengamot, the Board of Governors...” His voice trailed off skeptically.
“The right sort of people,” Draco interjected smugly, “should be in charge of such things.”
“The right sort?” Harry challenged. “Like your father and his friends?”
The atmosphere in the classroom, which had begun to lighten, chilled again. Draco’s mention of the Dark Mark had reminded every student of the whispered stories of who had and hadn't been ‘under the Imperius Curse’ during the War. The Slytherins tensed, ready to defend their families' honour. Several Gryffindors moved their chairs slightly closer to Harry. The Ravenclaws drew back.
And from the Hufflepuff desks, Susan Bones spoke up. “The right sort,” she said, with a steely tone, “like my aunt.” Harry and Draco and Snape all turned to face her, Harry surprised; Snape intrigued; Draco torn.
Susan’s voice became tentative. (She wasn’t used to speaking in class.) “My Aunt Amelia is in charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She and the other Aurors have a saying: constant vigilance. There really are Dark Wizards out there, and good folk need to be kept safe from them. The only way to do that is to ensure that”—she glanced at Harry—”the watchers have the tools that they need. But”—she glanced at Draco—“the reason they’re the right sort to have those tools is that they proved their worthiness. My Aunt is head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Bones, but she didn’t claim her post by birth. She runs the Department because she showed in the Wizarding War against You-Know-Who that she wants to protect everyone. And if she couldn’t do it any more, or didn’t do it right, the Minister of Magic or the Chief Warlock could step in.”
Hermione's hand shot up again, quick as a spell. Ron rolled his eyes, and Parvati pressed her lips together to suppress a groan. But Snape, who normally delighted in ignoring eager students, gave her a measured nod. For once, it seemed, he didn’t find her interruptions to be unwelcome.
“Professor,” she said, “if these detection methods are meant to protect us, shouldn't we know exactly what they are and where they're used? At my Muggle primary school, they always posted signs about security cameras—”
“Yes, Miss Granger,” Snape interrupted. “The Ministry, at Madam Bones' insistence, now demands that all such watching spells be openly declared. You may have noticed the glowing runes on the walls of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, or the warning signs at Gringotts. You certainly read in your acceptance letters of the protections, and burdens, Hogwarts would lay upon you.” His voice was neutral, signaling neither approval nor contempt.
“My aunt says,” Susan Bones added, her confidence growing, “that wizards are more willing to submit to being watched when they know that they are, and why.”
“Indeed,” Snape said, his eyes sweeping the classroom once more. “And that brings us to our final point.” He moved to stand directly before them, his black robes still, his presence commanding. “You all entered Hogwarts knowing you would be watched: by portraits, by professors, by prefects, by each other. You knew the castle's magic would monitor your movements, your health, your very presence within these walls… And yet you signed your acceptance, and you came, because the privileges of studying here are worth such small surrenders.”
He paused, then continued more softly. “But our present means of watching are... inadequate. The prefects must sleep. The portraits forget. Filch, despite his zeal, cannot haunt every corridor. And so we suffer the worst fate: to be forever watched, yet never truly guarded. We should do better. We should ensure that those who keep us safe are properly supplied.”
He glanced at Malfoy. “But they must answer to those they protect. They must be bound, by ancient laws and newer obligations alike. And they must be made to answer when they exceed their authority. That is the difference between security and subjugation.” He unconsciously touched his left forearm again. “The heart of the matter is not the magic itself, but in how it is wielded. In whose hands it rests. In whether those being watched have chosen to be watched.”
At last, his customary sneer returned. “I am not your Defense Professor; I will not give you homework on this, no four inches due Thursday.”
Snape's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, but it carried to every corner of the room. “But remember this.” His gaze seemed to find each student in turn, lingering fractionally longer on Harry. “In times of darkness, knowing who stands beside you—and who does not—can mean the difference between survival and destruction.” The words settled over the classroom like frost on stone.
“Class dismissed.”
Thanks for reading Changing Lanes! I hope you have enjoyed this jeu d’esprit. But if you did not, I thank you for your patience, and assure you that we will be back to non-fiction next week… although I may still have another holiday surprise in store.
For additional fun, if you are reading this on the Substack app, scroll back to the top of the post and press the ‘play’ button in the upper-right-hand corner of your screen. The house elves will do their work in an instant: an audio version, read in a crisp British voice. Enjoy!