The Lost Civilization of Pottermore

When Pottermore was little more than a rumor on the internet in June of 2011, no one knew what it would be. An encyclopedia? Another book? A smartphone? Was “MORE” an acronym for “Multiplayer Online Roleplay Experience?” Or did the title simply mean that there would be “more” Harry Potter related content for the fans to enjoy now that the series had been concluded? Bingo. Add to this that it would be the official place to buy Harry Potter digital audio books and ebooks and you are beginning to understand the intended purpose of Pottermore.

Pottermore contained new original content to read (including information on backstories and the writing process), but one could also submit artwork and there were activities like potion brewing and dueling. These activities were never intended to be the addicting, time consuming, and site-crashing features that they turned out to be. The houses fiercely brewed countless potions and dueled their hearts out.

To meet the demands of this unexpected gusto, Pottermore responded by making invisible changes that took extra time and contributed to the later release date. The activities were only mildly fun, and even tedious--so why did everyone spend hours upon hours devoted to them? The answer is that without the competition for the house cup there would have been little allure. House pride, relationships between allies and friends, and a thirst for competition drove fans to making brewing a priority.

Along with beautiful artwork, a sorting ceremony, and “moments” that let fans relive the adventures of their favorite lightning-scarred wizard, the site looked promising. What could go wrong? Clearly something could because four years later the website went through a complete overhaul, leaving the games and chat behind despite the protests from fans all the while boasting that its new and improved design would appeal to a more mature audience.

But what about the Old Pottermore--where did it go? The answer to that question can be found by looking no further than this response found in an article on the New Pottermore site:

“Ah, website heaven? We’ve held the ultimate House Cup, postponed Potions class, and shut down the original pottermore.com. The honest-to-Merlin reason for doing that? We have so much more to give you; writing, movies, plays, books, characters, places, backstories, and it’s rumoured that discovering your very own Patronus is also in the works.”

The mention of the Patronus test here is significant because it is something fans had been hoping for since the beginning, and something that was sorely missed at the release of Order of the Phoenix on Pottermore. It is an attempt to please the fans and give them something to truly look forward to--but it may not be enough. As one post states on the confessionspottermore page of Tumblr, “The only time I will be visiting pottermore is when the patronus quiz comes out. Other than that this site is dead to me.”

There are conflicting opinions when it comes to the new website, but people who became attached to the Old Pottermore generally agree that the change was sudden and extreme. Here is another anomymous confession that shows mixed feelings:

“I love the new design but I think they should have kept the other design too… It seems such a waste and we have lost a lot…”

This third confession from a Tumblr member in response to the major change may come as a surprise to those who were not a part of the Old Pottermore culture: “I sobbed when the new pottermore was released.”

Why are people so emotional about a website? Pottemore is brimming with story information, articles, and news, but it has lost a lot of magic that set it apart from other fansites. The recent return of the Sorting Hat and wand quizzes had been expected, as they too had been mentioned by the Pottermore Correspondent. The same cannot be said of the commenting system. Without any type of communication being supported on the website whatsoever, Pottermore’s culture is gone, and many have found it to be a lonely experience.

It used to be that, on the Old Pottermore, a user would navigate the site alone until the second moment of the seventh chapter of Harry Potter and the Philospher’s Stone. That was when they finally put on the Sorting Hat, and were placed into a house. From then on, they belonged to a group. Here is a quote from one blogger who was sorted in the Old Pottermore during beta:

“So, I’m in Gryffindor. It’s fun knowing that, and while it doesn’t change the experience of Pottermore, suddenly I’m a part of something bigger than just myself along on this little island in the midst of the seemingly great Pottermore.”

On the New Pottermore people are being given the choice to be sorted or to reclaim their wand and Hogwarts house, but instead of it being a transitional phase they are still trapped on their personal island (and it remains to be seen if that shall ever change).

The resilient community that had shaped Pottermore in its own image is gone and the changes have allowed the site to assume its true form. Pottermore was never meant to be a community, even though that is what the fandom demanded. The Pottermore that was has been crushed and built over. All that remains of it are screenshots, memories, and the multitude of fan websites that it gave rise to--some of which still carry on without it.

When chat was removed from Pottermore on April 14th, 2015, everything changed. Friends were cut off from each other. The site became quiet and stagnant. Five months later, the New Pottermore took its place. To make a study of the culture of the lost civilization of Pottermore, let’s turn the pages of history back to the very beginning.

Pottermore: A History

In the beginning there was silence. With the last Harry Potter movie finally marking the end of their beloved series, fans held their breath for something to fill the hole. When J.K Rowling said that she had an announcement to make, the hype grew uncontrollably. The webpage existed, but it only contained owls who gathered there mysteriously. No one knew what Pottermore would be, but every hypothesis was more grandiose than the last, putting everyone at the risk of disappointment and confusion.

Excitement mounted until at last, June 23rd, 2011 came and J.K Rowling herself revealed what it would be:

Pottermore 'Announcement' Trailer

Watch this video on YouTube

“A safe, unique, online reading experience…built in part by you, the reader…and also the exclusive place to purchase digital audio books, and, for the first time, ebooks of the Harry Potter series.”

The beginning of this statement said a whole lot of nothing (especially since the background images did not reveal website stills), while the latter part of her statement was largely under emphasized, framed as secondary. This was (and continues to be) a marketing campaign to sell ebooks. Today, after all, the Pottermore shop looks the same as ever, but the community and all it built is gone.

Even after Pottermore opened for beta testing, it was difficult to describe exactly what it was. Some beta testers understood its intended purpose after seeing the layout: it was meant to be explored as a companion to the books. As one beta tester said,”I’m enjoying the idea of reading along to the “moments” in the book that are highlighted on the website, so it’ll take me a while to get through it all, but it’s allowed me to rediscover the wonderful storytelling in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Others wanted so badly to explore and play that they consumed all the content at a pace faster than it could be produced:

“I was so impatient and excited to read JKR’s new content, but more importantly, to put on the Sorting Hat, that I forgot the promise I had initially made for myself: that I would re-read Sorcerer’s Stone alongside Pottermore. That I would take my time and really savor the experience. However, this didn’t happen. Once I started exploring Pottermore, I lost the willpower to stop.”

Others still were lost when it came to what the big reading experience was supposed to be:

“So, what is the real ‘reading experience’ on Pottermore? Well, it’s obviously not Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. There is that wonderful extra information from JK Rowling, and some fascinating information about wands but other than that the “reading experience” seems to be the sale of the eBooks which are hardly free. If you want your youngster to have the real reading experience, I suggest you go straight to the bookstore for the books.”

It was because Harry Potter fans had been waiting in anticipation with such vastly different expectations, and because the nature of the website was so hard to define, that they determined to make Pottermore into the community they wanted, even though it was not set up to be one. After all, J.K Rowling had said when announcing the beta testing, “a lucky few can enter early and help shape the experience.” That is not to say that they irreverently tossed aside the reading experience, only that they believed Pottermore could be and should be…much more.

They could read the books they loved without the website, but the website offered opportunities to share their love for the books with other fans in an official setting that drew people from all around the world who could experience the website in a multitude of languages. Limited opportunities, yes, but opportunities they almost could not help but expand. When people come together, no matter the circumstances, culture grows, and Pottermore was one of the most inhospitable places that it has ever grown.

Identity

On January 28th, 2016 the ability to sign up for the New Pottermore website became available. One is asked for one’s name, and there doesn’t seem to be anything keeping you from providing a pseudonym instead. When one made an account for the old child-friendly Pottermore, however, the name one entered first appeared in a book with the names of familiar characters, all written by a magic quill, congratulating one on joining the magical world. After that, one would be given randomly generated usernames to choose from—combinations of fantastical words with a number at the end. Not exactly a unique identity. What one COULD do, however, was friend other people, and then assign them a nickname which would appear instead of their username when they posted.

So what does one do when one is given limited choices? What if the choices were AccioWombat145, NimbusOwl130, WolfAsh3000, or HowlSword1493? These names are arbitrary but typical of the word mashup style Pottermore utilized in the username creation process. One must try to choose the name that suits one best. Or that one hates least. Beta testers had little choice. Once beta ended and Pottermore had its universal opening on April 14th, 2012 it was possible to generate new names after refreshing the page several times (and after inputting all of your information once more) for a new account. Still, the options were limited.

Having selected a name, one might become truly attached to it—embrace it—own it! Or one might give oneself a nickname and sign each post with it until it catches on. Being called by one’s nickname was very gratifying, and it was one way that stronger relationships formed and people became more distinct and memorable. During beta it was possible to see the common room full of people whom one had assigned nicknames. Because only one million emails had been assigned beta access, of course, it was easier to keep track of everyone in the conversation.

Nicknames could replace usernames that way, allowing others to call them how they preferred. It was inappropriate, however, to call someone by their nickname if they did not sign with it and you had not met properly. For instance, if someone told someone else their nickname while someone else was “lurking” in the Great Hall, it would be seen as weird if that other person greeted them by that name weeks later.

But one’s identity on Pottermore was also wrapped up within the house that one was sorted into. Which would it be? Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor? Fans attributed more authority to the Sorting Hat quiz on Pottermore than to any other that had ever been written because it had been designed by J.K Rowling herself. That meant that the house it assigns them must be the house they are meant to be in. While this can be a boost to one’s identity, affirming those qualities they value most, its results can still be disputed. Many claim that they have be sorted into the “wrong” house. That is to say, the house they did not expect or the house they did not want.

Here is a typical story of identity crisis: To be placed into Slytherin as a beta after years of identifying with Gryffindor—years that were spent collecting memorabilia in scarlet and gold. Oops. The fear of that happening was and still is shared by many fans, and inspired the song “Pottermore” by Youtuber Alex Carpenter in August of 2011.

POTTERMORE - Alex Carpenter

Watch this video on YouTube

As of January 28th, 2016 the Sorting Hat was reinstated on the New Pottermore website. Once again, new users are being met with an identity crisis, only this time without the established group that would have eased the transition and actually made one feel excited about having found one’s true house. Returning users, meanwhile, miss the group they cannot return to. Even if they reclaim the house they once had, the actual people they knew are out of reach. Is there incentive to log in again if all the written material can be accessed without an account?

Of course, the group activity was alive and well on the Old Pottermore. In beta, one either accepted one’s house, made friends and collaborated, or waited for beta to end 10 months later to try again with a new account. After beta ended, it was not uncommon to make multiple accounts to take the quiz until one got sorted into the house one liked best. The downfall was that this also allowed room for spies to emerge as a new phenomenon. Spying was looked down upon by all houses because rogue players jeopardized a house’s reputation and sense of achievement.

So, how did each house play into members’ identity and relate the fandom to the Harry Potter Universe? Members developed unique cultures in each common room from the foundation they had to work from.

Hufflepuff: The common opinion prevalent before Pottermore was that Hufflepuff was a house for people who weren’t brave, weren’t smart, weren’t ambitious… they were what was left over. The Sorting Hat says that Hufflepuffs are hardworking, but ironically it was because people sorted into Hufflepuff thought so highly of their work ethic that they did not want to be associated with the shame and stigma of their house. When Hufflepuff was first starting out in beta, they had a rough time because many people abandoned their accounts. One Hufflepuff spoke out against this practice on their blog:

“Now, I may seem like a pottermore freak to you. But its one addicting game, or well, ‘online reading experience’ . But, as most can see if you are in the beta, Hufflepuff is not doing so great…If you get into the pottermore beta, and you get sorted into Hufflepuff, dont be mad, and stop playing it and wait till the beta is over. I reccomend you try and learn more about your new home (like i did). I PROMISE you may change your mind about it!”

As Hufflepuffs came to recognize and appreciate the qualities that had brought them into this group of like-minded people, they became a house with more pride and support than had been believed to be possible and went on to win the house cup twice.

Remember the parody of a nature video released in early 2011 about Honey Badgers? “The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger” by Youtuber Randall (also known as “the Honey Badger don’t Care; Honey Badger don’t give a shit” video)? Though unrelated to Harry Potter, it was used by Hufflepuffs as reference material as they sought to define themselves. Gryffindor has the fierce lion, Ravenclaw the wise eagle, Slytherin the cunning snake. Adopting the honey badger brought them out of obscurity. It was their way of sending clear messages to the other houses--“we don’t care what you think of us” and “we are tough as nails.” Just as it would be a mistake to underestimate a honey badger, so too would it be to underestimate this group.

The badgers of Pottermore also created a mascot for their common room--Bob the Cactus. His story can be found on the Hufflepuff common room Tumblr page:

Once upon a time, on a dull night in the Hufflepuff Common Room, the Badgers, for some strange reason, took a particular interest in the backdrop of the common room. There they found, at the bottom right of the page, the most wonderful and magical:He didnt have a name before but because the only name Pottermore wouldnt put under moderation was Bob, he was called as such. Bob is now considered a mascot for the Hufflepuff Common Room” (anonymous, 2012).

Yes, he likes hugs. No, he won’t be found in the books by J.K Rowling. It is worth noting that the Hufflepuff pioneered the idea of creating a common room mascot. Bob the Cactus inspired the other houses to come up with one or more of their own.

Slytherin: While Hufflepuff’s undue shame came from the lack of development that their house was given in the books (which gave them a lot of freedom in establishing what they were all about), Slytherin suffered from the overwhelming focus the books had given their negative traits. Okay, they had some good guys their side. Severus Snape. Horace Slughorn. The point is that the books are told from Harry’s perspective. Harry didn’t have any Slytherin friends. Slytherins were bullies and death eaters. For many, to be sorted into Slytherin was to be told “you are a bad person.” Proud Slytherins were insulted by that but they tended to stick around. If they wanted a pristine reputation, they were going to have to build one.

Here is where Slytherins expanded upon the Harry Potter universe, seeking to redefine their house in a positive light. Still, they were often scapegoated when other houses were the targets of sabotage. In truth, there were spies across the board in all houses. The Slytherins won the house cup three times because they were organized, passionate, and just a little insane —not because they were a house full of cheaters.

Inspired by Hufflepuff’s extension of friendship from Bob the Cactus, they came up with their own mascot: Sid the (giant) Squid. He lives under the lake. They could see him through the windows of their common room as he went by (not really…but they had a good imagination), and they made sure to feed him treats.

Ravenclaw: In the beginning, there were more people in Ravenclaw than in any other house. They took great pride in this which suggested that people with Ravenclaw characteristics were well suited to pass the the magical quill challenge. This challenge included a riddle that had to be answered before one was admitted as a beta member.

During beta, Ravenclaws and Slytherins had a relationship of intense rivalry. When it came to house points, they were always neck and neck, even though they were on polar opposites when it came to the number of members. This defied the expectation set by the series that it would be Gryffindor and Slytherin butting heads for victory. Since this was not the story of Harry, a Gryffindor, the direction was for the members to decide. The destinies of their houses was in their hands.

That first house cup was an exhilarating and exhausting marathon. No one knew when the house cup would be awarded because no one knew when beta would end. The universal opening date had extended from October 2011 to an unspecified date. So the only choice was to keep working as hard and long as possible at this whirlwind pace.

It was such a close match that if one refreshed the page they might be tied, refreshed it again, one would be two points ahead. After that, it would be difficult for Slytherin not to respect Ravenclaw and visa-versa--and this mutual feeling was made possible by Pottermore. After the end of nearly 11 months (more than twice the length of the average house cup competitions that were to come), they lost the first house cup. Still, they would rise to the top and claim the house cup twice in a row before their time at Pottermore came to a close.

Ravenclaws developed a mascot beyond the animal of their house crest as well: Jimmy the Nargle--categorized as a public figure on Facebook. His “about” description there is short but sweet: “the awesome Ravenclaw mascot for Pottermore! mischievous AND awesome!” Since nargles are invisible, just because he wasn’t a part of the background didn’t mean he wasn’t there. According to their common room Tumblr page they had also named their chandelier Herbert and their door knocker (the one who questioned them upon entering their common room) Riddle Rory.

Gryffindor: Gryffindor, contrary to Percy’s statement and common belief, was not necessarily the “best house” to be sorted into. Yes, Gryffindors belonged to the house of the protagonist as classmates to Harry Ron and Hermione, but because Gryffindor had the most development of the four houses, its welcome letter was the shortest. The other houses had long memorandums affirming their great qualities and giving them the warmest of welcomes. But Gryffindors, it was apparently assumed, did not need all of that. Even if Gryffindors didn’t need a lengthy explanation about what it meant to be a lion, that didn’t mean they didn’t feel slighted. And those who did not identify as Gryffindors needed a lot more to persuade them that they belonged than a list of main Gryffindor characters who were awesome.

Even if they had the shortest welcome letter, they did not waste any words in developing their story as a fandom. If one looks up the “about” page for Gerald the Geranium on Facebook, one can find the detailed lore that Gryffindors gave to a mascot of their own. Like Bob the cactus, Gerald was a potted plant found in the backdrop image of the Gryffindor common room. Below is a sampling of quotes from Gerald’s truly wonderful Facebook biography that begins to show the depth to which this new character was developed. More than a public figure, he became a legend.

Gerald was tied to the traditions of major life events. For instance, when it came to being sorted,”It’s said that if Gerald accepts you as a Gryffindor, that’s even more solid proof than the Hat sending you there.” This is perhaps the most important of all the quotes, because it gives us a peek the support network Gryffindors had in place for those who felt they had been improperly sorted. He was also involved in marriage and funeral traditions. For instance “…every girl who graduates out of Gryffindor house….(carries) one of Gerald’s flowers in her wedding bouquet…”and “Whenever a Gryffindor dies a hero’s death, Gerald provides the flowers for the funeral wreath.”

Other descriptions of him give him a direct influence on events in the story, as if he wasn’t being made up now but had been present all along. It goes on to say that “Gerald was the direct inspiration for using a plant as the first guardian of the Philosopher’s Stone” and “Gerald was actually the one who took the list of passwords from Neville and gave it to Sirius.” Besides friend and hero he was also a matchmaker, and “Among the couples he helped get together include James Potter and Lilly Evans…” . So there you have it--without Gerald the Geranium, there would be no Harry Potter.

What about their ambition to win the House Cup? During the first house cup, it was suspected by some that Gryffindor would win no matter what--in order to be faithful to the books. This was unfair to the Gryffindor’s efforts toward winning house points. They won the house cup once, which hopefully means that they spent a lot of time finding adventure beyond their computer screens.

Communication

Communication, absent from the current Pottermore, is vital to any culture. Without the ability to communicate one way or another traditions cannot be passed down, innovations cannot be shared, organization is not possible. The Old Pottermore provided users with the bare minimum to communicate in order to be safe for all ages.

In general, links, swear words, numbers, city names, and anything that was seen as potentially harmful to our privacy was banned. To communicate members had to be sly. The mention of Facebook was forbidden so “book of face” was said instead. “This sucks” was replaced by “this inhales.” No one was supposed to be able to ask each other about gender but some got around this by asking “are you a witch or a wizard?”

Pottermore’s censorship system was fondly referred to as “Professor Umbridge.” Censorship began with one’s username, as mentioned above. The automatic moderating system learned to be less strict but at first every comment was trial and error until it approved of what you said. It was ridiculous. No, seriously. During beta, even saying “My moderated comment has been approved!” (in reference to a prior moderated comment) would have been moderated for reasons unclear. The worst part was that moderated comments would only post after they had been approved, and that could take days. Then, one’s comments would pop up in the middle of someone else’s conversation and draw weird looks.

Even in late 2013, users were still complaining about the restraints of moderation, and insisting that communication better suit the needs of the users. Here is an excerpt from an article where a blogger describes the love-hate relationship many users had with Pottermore:

“As a friend said, ‘Moderation allows you to post about eating babies but doesn’t let you say ‘nice to meet you.’ We want to be able to encourage others, send out duels with no glitches and get replies, brew potions with no glitches and not have them disappear, and be proud of what we as Harry Potter fans have achieved and the legacy that has come about from us.”

The desire to create a legacy is telling here. Being able to communicate wasn’t enough as many members wished to leave behind a written history that would preserve a record of their achievements and discussions. But there was no way to leave a record.

Overtime, censorship loosened up. Still, no one could say numbers--and even roman numerals were taken away at one point. The logic behind this was to prevent members from sharing phone numbers, addresses, and also perhaps to keep them from talking about other specific players when they weren’t around. But numbers are essential. One doesn’t notice how often one uses numbers until they become taboo. When someone needed to inform another of which chapter one might collect a certain item, one had to be creative. For instance, by rhyming: “Chapter won, chapter too, chapter tree, chapter fort, chapter hive, chapter sick, chapter heaven, chapter gate, chapter night, chapter tent.” Easy as that and others can extrapolate through context what is meant. One could announce point achievements the same way: “I just reached elephant ow sand points!”

Beyond what was said through written language, Pottermore fans found another way to communicate--and that was through the exchange of gifts. If one’s opponent succeeded in reaching the perfect elusive score of 145 for the Full Body Bind spell, one could congratulate the winner with a gift. This was the kind of good sportsmanship and encouragement from other houses that was very characteristic of the Pottermore community. One could send a Slytherin a “Salazar Slytherin” chocolate frog card after being impressed with a spell. Their opponent, equally impressed with them, could demonstrate their own admiration by sending them a copy of “Notable Magical Names of Our Time.” Sometimes, a member might send a Sleeping Draught instead. This could be taken as “Aren’t you tired of dueling yet?” (in a humorous way).

So how did members communicate, if not by private messaging, forum, or chat? Communication was done via the commenting system in place in the Great Hall, common room, and moments. The system in place went a little like this:

One comment stacked atop another comment

Stacked atop another comment

All as responses

To the previous comment

And yet posted entirely independently

Of that comment

In a pseudo conversation

That was impermanent

And where the older comments

That began the conversation

Would fade into nothing

At the bottom of the page

And yet, members insisted on treating these places like they were chat rooms because that’s what they wanted them to be.

To make communication easier to manage, members set up websites elsewhere. That’s right. If they couldn’t fix what they found to be restraining about Pottermore, they could simply move beyond those restraints. People made blog posts and YouTube videos. Common rooms, confession pages, roleplaying, house pride sites, and even dueling clubs took to Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook. On those other sites, people could chat freely without fearing their conversations would be constricted or disappear. It was a lot like the D.A being set up in the room of requirement, to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts secretly right under Professor Umbridge’s nose.

These were not seen as alternatives to Pottermore by Pottermore users, but as secret corridors that led back to Pottermore, extensions. There, users often went by their Pottemore usernames and connected with friends they had made on Pottermore, deepening those relationships. They posted inspiring memes, geeked out about Harry Potter, and even coordinated mass complaints (we called “howlers”) to be sent to the Pottermore staff regarding those who had been wrongfully banned by trolls.

The Rise of Teamwork

One close-ended question given to beta testers was very telling of the gap between the thinking of beta testers and website developers. It was something like, “How much time each day do you spend on Pottermore?” There was no answer to select that reflected the true amount of time that everyone was pouring into the website. With the house cup at stake, members were busy collecting potion ingredients and making as much as possible as frequently as possible. “Keep calm and brew potions” and “Just keep brewing, just keep brewing” were common mantras.

Beta testers were spending much longer than the highest predicted maximum that question had given users the chance to select. Some kept alarms on their phones specifically for potions they tended to throughout the day which could take up to 100 minutes to complete. This number would go down after beta, but a committed house member would be brewing potions as often as he or she could. And when people were not brewing, they were dueling or chatting.

It bears repeating: No one was expected to spend hours on this website. The mini-games were not that fun. The reason Pottermore users were so intent on playing the minigames was that they had house pride and they wanted to be valued by the members of their house and team.

Some members were alarmingly active or falsely accused of cheating by trolls, and they were punished as “bots” by being banned or stripped of their galleons. Cheating, however, was a very real deal. It was easy to become suspicious of others who did not perform up to standard, which meant to stay an upstanding member of one’s house required a display of loyalty through the accumulation of house points and proven success. Few wanted to gift potion ingredients to someone who did not have a good track record, and fewer still were interested in providing new cauldrons to those who chronically exploded their own. Cheating was done by joining the rival house and either intentionally failing at potions (an exploding cauldron would lose house points) or by challenging the house to which one was truly loyal and losing on purpose (winners of duels gained house points). If one caught another in this suspicious activity, the house blacklisted them. That meant no more items would be gifted to them, as a way of taking disciplinary actions into their own hands. They would soon run out of resources.

Resources. Specialization. The redistribution of goods. What do all these terms have to do with Pottermore? Scarcity of resources necessitated teamwork to “survive” or win the house cup. Specialization and the redistribution of goods were the economical results that made Pottermore even more into its own civilization.

In Pottermore, one received a grant of 500 galleons from Gringotts in book 1, and then an allowance with each book’s release. That meant that Beta users, forced to go almost a year between the first book and the release of the second, were the ones most likely to go broke. Galleons were needed to buy school supplies as the prerequisite to proceeding to the subsequent chapters. A telescope, scales, books, and a cauldron are a few on that list that come to mind. Most of that was for decoration. Of course, one could sell the potions they made to gain an income, right? Wrong. The only form of “income” between each book was whatever galleons or potion ingredients you could scrounge up in the “moments” by clicking around the scene.

Galleons were limited, but if users thought as a team they could come up with a strategy to get the most out of the group’s collective wealth. This was managed in the Slytherin common room through specialization and the redistribution of goods—trademarks of a growing agricultural civilization. Only, its members were not farming—they were collecting free potion ingredients from the “moments.” Slytherins identified their individual strengths, dividing the labor up between brewers and duelers, gatherers and leaders as they sought the most efficient way to win the house cup. Undoubtedly, a similar method was developed independently in the other houses because they all experienced common environmental pressures, shared the same resources, and were working to accomplish the same thing. Each house would put their heads together to create a strategy for reaching the coveted house cup.

What beta Slytherins noticed was that some members were more successful than others when it came to dueling or to brewing a certain potion. Dueling was free, but it was risky because spells had power caps. If one could not cast a perfect high power spell like full body bind then they would inevitably be beaten by someone who could. Potion making was an individual task that presented its own problems.

People were running out of galleons and expensive cauldrons were still exploding (it didn’t help that even a perfectly executed potion could still glitch and explode in one’s face.) One user arose with an idea: have some Slytherins collect and gift potion ingredients to him and a few others, and those people would take requests. He became the wise leader who rallied the Slytherins for much of the beta period, making sure the right items went to the right people.

People who could not duel well were coached on which spells yielded the most points and whom not to challenge to a duel. After beta ended, it was customary to inform the “baby snakes” about proper potion making and caution them to practice to proficiency before contributing as point earners for the house. That meant they would practice dueling each other with the full body bind, until being able to consistently score 142 or higher. As an added incentive for high achievement, daily point goals were established and named in honor of Malfoy, Snape, and Merlin.

People who could not brew the more difficult potions were commanded to only brew the easier ones. People who could make the sleeping drought, a highly complicated potion, were encouraged to do so for it allotted their house the most points. Galleons were important when it came to buying potion ingredients, but even more so when it came to buying new cauldrons. Trustworthy individuals would be given new cauldrons donated for free by wealthier users after explosions. The lack of galleons actually proved to be a catalyst to strategy, rather than a weakness.

The Roleplay

The Great Hall somehow became the central gathering point for roleplay--in fact, during beta, roleplay was largely confined to the Great Hall. Those uninterested in roleplaying gave up the Great Hall, ever so slightly, in order to keep roleplay from cluttering the common rooms. It makes sense that roleplay would develop there, where “characters” from all houses could interact within the castle. It was also of course the place where Pottermore users expressed their excitement as the house cup challenge heated up. Roleplay in the Great Hall began innocently enough. Potterheads would proclaim that the Yule Ball was approaching, and there would be excited chatter about it in the common rooms. This wasn’t a Pottermore event. This was a cultural phenomenon.

After beta was over, it wasn’t long before roleplay began to be a focus in common rooms as well. Perhaps it was because there were so many people, which meant an influx of roleplayers but, at the same time, not enough space to chat. This is what the beta members had feared--it wasn’t that they selfishly didn’t want to share Pottermore with those anxiously awaiting the universal opening, it was just that they bitterly knew things were about to get very cramped and Pottermore had shown no inclination that it would provide a better means of communication despite urgent feedback.

How this transformation took place may be uncertain, but three things can be said about it: One, that many resented roleplayers for “taking over” the space that belonged to all, two, that roleplaying eventually became more violent and sexual despite automated censorship, and, three, that even though roleplaying was not inappropriate as a rule it was the last straw. Pottermore banned trolls and roleplayers when they were reported, but they kept coming back. Eventually, Pottermore stripped everyone of their means of communication. This marked the beginning of the end for the Old Pottermore and the beginning of the New Pottermore, where it has yet to be restored.

Now, before blaming the roleplayers for “killing” the Old Pottermore, one must remember Pottermore’s flaws when it came to communication. There was no forum. That meant that if one had something to say, one dumped it where everyone could see it, regardless of whether or not others wanted to follow that “thread.” There was no private messaging system. If someone had something to say to someone, it was heard by everyone. There was no privacy so even when people were out of character they might be having violent arguments or making flirty comments that were not meant for others’ eyes. There were no live moderators present in the room to ban members or at least kick them out of the discussion. The automated moderating system was lazy and truly never worked because it could not counter human ingenuity and could not detect context. And, as with the numbers, people found new ways to express vulgarity. “Mudblood” was not blocked. The description of one’s rigid wand flew right under the radar. Unicorns would have been aghast to see the way their horns were being used to illustrate lewd concepts. Indeed, if one blames unruly roleplay for the fall of Pottermore, it is not unfair to say that Pottermore simply collapsed under its own inflexibility to facilitate healthy discussion.

The Future of Pottermore

Currently, the link to send feedback has been removed from the bottom of the site, so the Pottermore team must have all the feedback that it needs for the new site and is ready to move forward. Its removal has not gone unnoticed by Harry Potter fans, who have grown accustomed to submitting their opinions. From the beginning of the beta period, Pottermore users have been trying their best to submit helpful advice about how to make the site better. Pottermore is free to use, so fans do not have much entitlement when it comes to determining its future. Interestingly enough, the frustration Pottermore users have felt—that their opinions about the direction of Pottermore have been undervalued—have been shared by those actually working for Pottermore. On Glassdoor, the company rated 1.7 stars out of 5 when referenced February 5th, 2016 with only a couple perfectly happy reviews claiming absolutely no dissatisfaction. When given the opportunity to include a list of cons to balance their long list of pros, this current employee said in their post, “Nah. I can’t really think of anything, to be honest.” Not very many of the reviews could say the same.

One Glassdoor review provided an interesting look into how ideas were not receiving proper consideration:

“Yes-men are everywhere and constructive feedback is deemed to be negative and destructive. For the most part these ‘negative’ comments turn out to be correct in the long run, however this are passed off as the ideas of others. The junior team is completely ignored in favor of expensive consultants and inept agencies that regurgitate the ideas of the established team with a hefty price tag.”

This feeling of being ignored is a common theme found throughout the employee reviews. Take these three separate posts from Glassdoor addressing the management on how to improve the negative work environment:

“Advice to Management: Improve your bonus scheme. Try harder to involve, value and reward your staff in order to fix the negative atmosphere. Be transparent and open about the state of the company. Stop being afraid to involve J.K. Rowling.” “Advice to Management: They do not seem to care about what other says, so, no advice.” “Advice to Management: I doubt they would listen…..certainly didn’t to mere mortals when i was there.”

These quotes express an overwhelming futility which indicates that Pottermore is not likely to have a change of heart, and they raise the question of what creative ideas these former Pottermore employees might have been able to contribute. What might Pottermore have been? For Pottermore users, however, a major plea has always been for there to be a better system of communication, but because this request was at odds with the original Pottermore vision it was just as firmly pushed aside. The quote below comes from Pottermore’s Facebook page in response to two users on the touchy subject:

A blogger on Peepso.com made a case study of Pottermore as a social networking site (a label it could not escape, despite original intention) where she pointed out why it floundered compared to other smaller fansites:

Bringing the entire Potter fandom together in a single space without roping off sections for role play, chapter discussions etc (ie, having everyone in the same place) was always going to cause problems – if people are in a space (or a sub-space) where they understand and agree with the rules, you’re less likely to be overwhelmed by reports from users who aren’t okay with what’s happening around them.”

Exactly. A forum with guidelines (and perhaps a form of parental control) has the potential to make both sides happy. Will Pottermore learn from its mistakes and revive the means for fans to interact with each other? Despite petitions on change.com and Ipetition.com it isn’t likely. Pottermore is strongly apprehensive to the notion, seeing it as something it cannot control, and therefore cannot endorse without jeopardizing its values of security and privacy. This response by Pottermore to Facebook users does not beat around the bush when it comes to the fact that Pottermore has already determined the impracticality of chat and is moving on to other things:

Pottermore is still evolving. “Exploring the moments” alongside the books has been ditched in favor of the extra written content, which is actually what many users had wanted, just not at the cost of interaction. The chapters are gone—nothing to collect and no games to collect them for. The house cup is gone—no way to earn points, and no visible groups to compete against each other. It may yet benefit the New Pottermore to integrate forums, private messaging, and/or moderated chat into the new site, if only to smooth things over with fans. Either way, things will never go back to the way they were. While not shopping for ebooks, fans will likely replace their love for Pottermore with fanwebsites like “Hogwarts is Here” or “Hogwarts Extreme” where the Hogwarts experience is unofficial but flourishing, and where they can once again become a part of an online community. That type of fan culture is what the New Pottermore has shut down and so it is fitting to deem the ruins it has left behind “The Lost Civilization of Pottermore.”

What do you think? .