welcometotheravenclawcommonroom:

I was really upset when Snape died…

But not because he died, exactly. It was because he was hailed as a hero when all he did was die trying to help fix his many mistakes. I wanted to see him survive his attack so he could get a proper redemption arc. A hard, long road where he realises that Harry Potter is not his father, that he is instead a kid who spent all his time trying to protect his loved ones in a world that did everything possible to impede him from doing so. I want him to realise, in an epiphany that knocks him breathless, that he spent the last seven years bullying an abused child, a child who thought that the magical world was an escape from pain and not another road towards it, a child who thought potions was fascinating and would have loved the class if the teacher didn’t spent every waking moment trying to make him miserable. I want him to go up to Harry, the words stuck in his throat as he tries to apologise, and instead tells him that he’s not cut out to be an auror, and hat he should do something he loves instead of feeling more pressure to “be the hero.” That he’s done his part. I want him to squirm guiltily that first year after the war at all the distrustful looks from other teachers. I want him to go up to assistant herbology Professor Longbottom and stammer out his regret that he’d treated Neville that way, that no matter how “atrocious” his potions, it is unacceptable that he was so horrid that he made a student terrified to come to class, that he tried to poison his pet. I want him to take points away from Slytherin when they deserve it, even though it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. I want him to reluctantly give points to Gryffindors when they brew a good potion, because even if it wasn’t perfect, it was the best in the class and for a kid who had never touched a cauldron before, it shows promise. I want him to look out for signs of abuse in ALL houses, not just his own, because Harry Potter had taught him that he couldn’t let his own bitterness influence his judgement, especially when his own childhood makes him aware of exactly what to look for. I want him to spend every day making penance in small acts, until decades later, when the students admit that he is gruff but fair and a good teacher, and when he has maybe not come out a hero but at least evened the scales, then and only then will he allow himself to retire to a quiet house in the country to make potions and suffer the occasional visit from professor McGonnagall to make sure he’s eating and taking care of himself.