Sometimes all you need to penetrate a mind is a little bit of magical inspiration.

Yes, I cringed a little at the word “penetrate” too, but hear me out. What I’m talking about here is forming non-superficial connections with someone, taking an acquaintanceship to the next level – deep, meaningful friendship. And when it comes to this whole “getting to know someone” business, mind penetration is really the only way to describe it.* It’s an invasive procedure, which is grossly intimate and can either be incredibly enjoyable or very uncomfortable. Either way, you end up pulling some kind of face you would be horrified to see reflected back at you. To penetrate, according to my computer’s dictionary is to:
1 go into or through (something), especially with force or effort.

2 gain access to (an organization, place, or system), especially when this is difficult to do.

The word implies some difficulty and an invasion of sorts. It doesn’t sound fun when you break it down in those terms, and for the most part it isn’t. Finding out about people is difficult and intrusive, so you need to have a game plan in place before you go in.

The other day somebody asked me whether I was good at asking people questions because of my line of work. They naïve person thought that I would be able to absolutely nail conversations and sneakily coaxing personal details out of people because it’s part of my job.

 

“Not really,” I told him.

“My go to opening question is ‘what’s you favourite colour’, so no.”

 

Incidentally, most people elect blue as their favourite hue. A distant second is red, with yellow and green trailing behind. I’ve only ever had one pink, but then I think people are lying to themselves. I think this is a fairly legitimate question to ask people – it breaks the ice and gives you something you can base completely legitimate analyses of the person’s emotional state, deep seeded motivations and general outlook on life (if you picked scarlet, you’re obviously some kind of psychopath who cannot be trusted and will never learn to love).

 

Regardless of my brilliant, lightly penetrative lines of questioning, it has come to my attention that I don’t often come off as someone who essentially has to speak to people with the goal to elicit fruitful conversation for a living. Actually, it’s down right surprising I get by if you take into account some of my conversational gems.

 

I know I speak of this often, but it’s hard to master small talk. It’s hard to “get to know” people, too. This task requires more probing questions such as inquisitions about the weather or statements about political affairs you’ve added un upwards inflection to. If you want to “get to know” someone, you need to squeeze the juice from the lime wedge, and while Oprah uses her teeth (I once saw the most fantastic episode of Oprah in which she and Gayle went glamping – they drove an RV and made cocktails outdoors and were all round fabulous. I really think there should be a remake of The Simple Life with Gayle and Oprah), I think you have to come at with a different approach when we’re talking metaphorical limes.

 

It’s funny how terribly suited I am for my job: my spelling is appalling, I can’t recount a tale in a logical, linear manner, I don’t like bothering people, and, as it turns out, I am absolute rubbish at finding out things about people’s lives. People have gone though painful breakups before I’ve even been aware they were in relationships. I couldn’t tell you what half of my friends do for a living. I didn’t even know a mate from college lived interstate until I was proofing a page with a photo of him on it.

 

Part of me wonders if it’s because I simply don’t care about other people’s lives unless it directly affects mine. It’s a matter of logic. Why waste precious time pondering the affairs of meaningless plebs when you could be dedicating your brainpower to a more enlightening pursuit, such as basking in the majesty of me? Subconsciously, my mind must discard every shred of detail about somebody’s life that doesn’t relate back to me because clearly anything devoid of essence of me is trash and not worth paying attention to. I wouldn’t put it past me. But if I did put it past me I probably wouldn’t even realise it, since I’m more oblivious to signs of bonfires and breakdowns of affections than a fence post. It is this winning combination of ignorance and self-obsession that renders me useless in a “hot goss sesh” and I’ve really had enough of it.

 

So, after turning over the aforementioned (and by aforementioned I mean the conversation I referenced almost 500 words ago. I told you can’t get from Point A to Point B of a story without making a few detours – hashtag to cut a long story short) exchange in my head while hosting a personal Harry Potter film festival all weekend, I’ve come up with a way to make sure I get to the nuts and bolts of people. I’ve devised a sneaky a strategy to keep up my sleeve should the dialogue run dry. It’s not so much a detailed plan as it is a list of uncomfortably probing questions based on Harry Potter phenomena, but I reckon it will do the trick. And, like an invisibility cloak belonging to a relative butchered by nose-less baldy, it’s time it was passed on to you.

 

Now, please keep in mind that Harry Potter played a big role in my life (I once went out in public with a paper mache snitch on my head and dressed up as the sword of Godric Gryffindor despite being deemed a fit person to enrol in a tertiary course). And, as I do with most things, I assume people have the same intense views towards the outstanding series as I do. Hence why I think this is an appropriate way to interact with someone.

 

So here are my fall back questions sure to form the basis of unwavering friendship:

What would a boggart turn into if you confronted it?

What you see if you looked into the Mirror of Erised?

If you came across a dementor, what would you think of?

What memory would you use to produce a fully-fledged patronus charm?

What form would your patronus take?

Who would you have to rescue if you were competing in the second task of the Twiwizard Tournament?

What would you attempt if you had one vial of liquid luck?

If came across a batch of polyjuice potion, who’s hair would you put in it?

 

So that’s it. That’s my “follow the spiders” for you, golden trio of readers (you know who you are).

 

Use it well.

 

*”I’m going to penetrate your mind” is also a quote from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Alan Rickman says it as Severus Snape, and prompted a significant chorus of giggles from my group of costumed friends in the movie theatre, no doubt thoroughly annoying all other serious audience members. I stand by our behaviour.