I think its interesting that Old Xian decided to bring this up, as people with symptoms of Hyperactive-Impulsive ADHD will often:
Leave their seat in the classroom or in other situations in which remaining seated is expected
Interrupting conversations or speaking out of turn
Fidget with their hands or feet or squirm in their seat
Trouble engaging in quiet activities, “bugs” other people
Be ‘on the go’ or act as if ‘driven by a motor’, running from place to place
Banging into people or objects
Constantly jumping or climbing on inappropriate places
Impulsive, not thinking about consequences of actions
I don’t think its a coincidence that Jian Yi literally has every single symptom (has old xian been basing his personality off this disorder?) I’m glad we finally have a reason for his crazy behavior- he has the second type of ADHD, impulsive
What if Gilderoy Lockhart’s autobiography post-obliviation, Who am I?, is actually a masterpiece? Hear me out: he has been obliviated but has the instinct to write write write, still about himself, but he must have troubles with his memory in all sorts of ways on top of not being able to recollect most of who he had been before his Memory Charm backfired. The text of that book must be fragmented, the second half of it might not remember the first half, he might forget to finish stories he started, anectodes may be muddled, and because he doesn’t fully remember his own life, he may get sidetracked to talk about his present state of mind at times. But then hang on, what if Lockhart is solely responsible for modernism’s appearance on the magical literary scene? His new work, written in a state of amnesia, may have been his masterpiece, his legacy, a groundbreaking new literary style that makes art rather than just entertains, like his earlier works were meant to. He inadvertantly changes the face of wizarding literature and he may not even remember writing it, really. It would be the most ironic thing if this is what Lockhart’s true legacy was, when he isn’t forcing it and isn’t narrativizing other people’s achievements, if this is what he would be remembered for, for making art where narrative authority shatters rather than for his popular fiction.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like to be a good Samaritan. Working at a club often entailed returning nearly forgotten items to inebriated patrons. But once Iliana was done work, she liked to hang back. Somewhere between the freshly paved streets and the outskirts of the swamp, the girl liked to disappear.
So when the person walking next to her dropped an item, the brunette hesitated for the span of a few heartbeats. A resigned sigh drifted from her lips, and she scooped the item up, power walking her way to be neck and neck, hands held out. “Hey…you dropped this.”