Which Harry Potter Character Are You?

This simple test will tell you everything you need to know about yourself — or, for that matter, could know about yourself! Just read each scenario and then select the option that most resembles what you would do in the situation.

SCENARIO 1:

Congrats! You are a Grecian bard in the time before written language — which epic have you memorized?

- Danais

- The Illiad

- Theogony

- Aegimius (Hesiod Version)

- Aegimius (Cercops of Miletus Version)

- None: I’m busy thinking really hard and trying to come up with the idea of letters.

SCENARIO 2:

You’re visiting your aunt and uncle! When their 7 year old daughter comes home from school, she seems rather dejected. You’re the only adult in the house, so she approaches the couch you’ve been napping on to ask for advice: she says that, during art class, several boys in her grade bullied her for being so excited about making pottery. She asks how to deal with this. What advice do you have for her?

- You don’t address the situation: children will always be cruel. Instead, you try to cheer her up by giving her the best gift you can think of, which is the knowledge that all of societies standards — rules, laws, norms — are fake. You politely explain to her the concept of Nietzsche’s ubermensch, and Hobbes’s idea that life (by default) is nasty, brutish, and short. Finally, you advise her to get stronger so she can fight the boys and her teachers.

- You politely explain to her that these boys are acting out because of the fluoride in their tap water is interacting with the chemicals that the government sprays on all of us from airplanes. From there, you explain to her how this is done because Barack Obama made a treaty with a certain breed of extraterrestrials in which he would give them control over humanity in exchange for a weather machine. After telling her this you then show her several YouTube videos that discuss this contract and the truth about 9/11.

- You tell her the truth: boys at her age are inherently mean because society has no idea how to raise functioning men, adults don’t care enough about the future to ask why their sons are broken, and that all of this is largely due to forces neither you, nor her, will ever be able to fight. Afterwards, when she begins to cry, you offer to take her to Chuck E. Cheese’s as an apology.

- You ask more about her tormentors, and upon learning that two of them have Irish sounding last names, begin to explain that all Hibernians are wicked. You then teach her several slurs for the Irish that have been out of use since the 1870’s to use on the boys if they bother her again.

- You tell her that she has ground for a lawsuit; you then begin to contact the tormentors’s parents to advise them to retain counsel.

- You let her know that the best defense is a strong offense and teach her how to make a shank out of some floss, a toothbrush, and a women’s razor. To make sure she is prepared to fight, you also show her how to make “courage juice”, or as most people know it, prison wine.

SCENARIO 3:

The year is 1992; you are a middle-aged, white accountant in an office with fluorescent lights and a drop ceiling. The Soviet Union has fallen and you revel every day in your status as a citizen of the only superpower on earth. One day, while talking to the fellas at the water cooler, you hear a commotion. After walking out of the break-room, you immediately see that a splinter cell of hard-line Soviet holdouts have parachuted into your hometown of Peoria, Illinois and they’ve started to ransack your office. Faced with no other option, you roll up your sleeves and begin using your hands to bring freedom to the necks of these god-hating communists.

Because the socialists hate the United States, they have no guns; additionally, because they are Russian, they are also wearing heavy coats and fur hats in the summer. You quickly best the majority of the freedom-hating pinkos with your fists. It’s fairly easy to do this because the Russians’s coats are so large that it’s hard for them to move quickly.

Just when you’ve thought that you have protected the free world from the Red Menace, you hear a shout. One of the Russians, who appears to be the leader of the unit (given his elaborate, medal-covered uniform) has captured your boss! You panic — as an American, your direct supervisor is the person you love the most: you hold your boss in higher regard than your father and your nagging wife.

You patriotic fervor overtakes you and you spring into action. You quickly separate the two, then throw the Ruskie on to the ground. As you pull back your fist to punch the Russian, he gets a panicked look in his eye. He knows that you have the raw strength to punch clean through a man — you’ve done that to the majority of his soldiers — so he begins to beg for his life.

He tells you how war was all he has known: he was the only member of his family who survived the siege of Leningrad and at age 12 was sent to a military academy. While there, he met his wife. She was the daughter of the commandant of the academy; the soldier and her lived together for four years before she was diagnosed with cancer. She perished four weeks after her diagnosis. After watching the love of his life wither away the soldier knew nothing but pain, he said, and sought to deal with the gaping hole in his soul by taking increasingly dangerous deployments.

With each mission, his reputation as a soldier grew; unfortunately, the wanton destruction he left in his path eventually began to seem cruel. He could not help but wonder if there was more to life than war — in the early 80's, he retired to see if he could learn to write poems like the ones his father would recite to him before the war.

Unfortunately, the civilian world was strange and hostile. He found that he knew nothing of the country he fought to protect. Faced with this revelation, he returned to war. Eventually, as his country crumpled, he saw one last chance to fight: He stole a cargo plane with the help of his old battalion and took the fight right to your cubicle. All he asks of you, he says, is to tell him what peace is like before he dies. Do you:

- Inform him that peace is the feeling of looking at a calm, flowing stream and knowing that you can wade into it until you decide to go home. After this, murder him.

- Tell him that peace is when you come home at the end of the day knowing that your work is done, the world is right, and that your family loves you. Murder him immediately after sharing this.

- Look him in the eye as you spit out the phrase “Peace is capitalism, you red freak” before you end his meaningless life.

- Ask him if, in the moment immediately after her fired his gun at an enemy soldier, did ever he feel a strange calmness? Tell him that you always felt that sort of calm when you fought in Vietnam — it is still the only peace you have ever known— but that you also know that not all soldiers can find tranquility in chaos. Regardless of his answer, you would then murder him.

- Refuse to answer the question, then tell him you’ll spare his life as long as he promises to get the fuck out of town by sunset and stops trying to unionize your workplace.

- Inform him that God did not mean for men to feel peace — from the moment Adam ate the forbidden fruit, we were doomed to feel strife in every waking moment. After this, you look off into the distance, recite the first 24 lines of Milton’s Paradise Lost from memory and murder him.

RESULTS:

Regardless of which options you picked, you are Hagrid. You have always been Hagrid — in fact, you will also always be Hagrid. Hagrid is the beginning and end of your existence. There is nothing beyond Hagrid, or at least as far as you are concerned. Congrats!