As you may have noticed, to say I like Harry Potter would be an understatement. I’ve loved the saga since I was a little kid, before the movies existed. My love for the Harry Potter saga is one of the first feelings I can remember experiencing. A feeling such as that can’t be easily forgotten, even when you grow up and realise you idealised a story with several plot holes and a writer who’s a massive dickhead.
MY FICS
I have written a very long series of fics, around 150k words each, Snape-centric (with a lot of psychology and introspection), introducing neurodivergent, disabled and LGBTQ+ characters into the Harry Potter universe. You can find it here.
ABOUT ME
He/She/They/It, I accept everything.
20ish.
Slytherin.
Aroacespec.
I don't suffer from autism. I thrive in it.
In love with Severus Snape in an unhealthy way since before I knew he was one of the good guys.
In love with Alan Rickman since before I even watched the Harry Potter movies.
I understand that Severus is not perfect. He made mistakes that can be considered unforgivable. He did act in an unpleasant, toxic and unhealthy way. These are exactly the reasons I love him.
Deeply disappointed with jkr. If you want my take on the whole matter in detail, you can find it here. In any case, just know that NOTHING I do gives her a cent. I don’t buy merch, I don’t buy anything hp related, and if I want to watch it/read the books/play the game, I 🏴☠️.
Speaking of controversial topics, here’s my take on generative AI. In short: NOTHING of what I do is AI generated.
If I write in a way that sounds too specific and weirdly articulate or if I make grammatical errors, please consider that English isn’t my first language.
This is not my main blog, and I do not intend to share my main one here. You can still find it if you look close enough, though.
I thought I was finally writing that chapter, but the introduction to that chapter turned out so long that it became another chapter, and now that chapter became next chapter
Hey! So, quick info: I am absolutely and always in the mood for having a conversation and an exchange of ideas, no matter how different our points of view are.
The moment you’re rude to me or to people on my blog who are just trying to talk peacefully, you’re blocked
I don’t give a fuck. I’m kind as long as you’re kind.
I’ve already been told to kms once on this site and I am in no mood nor mental condition for people to disrupt my peace
Some time ago, two years to be precise, I saw a post on Reddit in which a person talked about how sad they were that there’s no disability representation in the Harry Potter saga. No disabled character in which they could see themselves. And I agreed 100%
Someone replied to that post saying something along the lines of “well of course there aren’t disabled characters, because it’s a MAGICAL world. Disabilities would just be cured with magic. How are you supposed to make a disabled character in a world like that?”
Which is stupid af, because of course you can make a disabled character in a magical world. You just give them a magical disability
So, anyway, two years, 6 longfics (one still in progress) and around 900k words later, that character exists. I don’t think that person will ever find him or my works, but he exists, and it makes me happy
(Also maybe he’s got a boyfriend. And maybe he’s a bit genderqueer too, because why not)
Fics: A Proper Wizard (one shot, introducing the character); Æternus (series of 5 long fics, Severus Snape POV, in which he’s one of the main characters); Symbiotic Binary (long fic, the same story told in Æternus, but from his POV). More fics are planned ✨
Big BIG love of mine is things that expand the Wizarding World outward, to different places and time periods and individuals.
Even without the disability inclusion, which is close to my heart, this sort of thing is exciting - it's going to be a must read for me.
Like I can't say enough how I think this is the single coolest thing you can do with fanfiction. You've gone and done the coolest thing ever.
And included disability into that, which is even cooler.
I hope those people find your work too. I'm glad I have. <3
...
Though hearing people say Harry Potter doesn't have disabilities...
It does, though? I've always been quite pleased, actually, that it doesn't do the lazy, insulting thing where they magically cure disabilities.
If anything - I think the way disability is shown in Harry Potter is quite good compared to most things, which simply don't bother.
Harry Potter, the main character, is disabled.
Harry has glasses and needs them to function in everyday life.
He suffers a disadvantage in quidditch because of his eyesight, rain water all over his glasses messing with his ability to play - until he gets a spell that water-proofs the glass.
Note how his eyes are never fixed with magic. His disability aid is.
It is a small thing, it's not something that always affects his life - that'd be cartoonish. Glasses aren't cumbersome or clumsy tools to wear.
But the fact it sometimes does affect him is what I love.
How many times does a character have glasses only for cosmetic reasons? They have glasses to show they are ''smart'' or a ''nerd''?
Harry isn't ''smart'' - he is athletic and active, far closer to a ''jock''.
How often does the main character get to be the one with glasses...?
How many of those main characters are ''nerds'' in some way?
Alastor is the most 'obviously' physically disabled, as an amputee.
He has an old-fashioned wooden prosthetic that is decorated.
It isn't a magical fix where the false limb is equal or better than his natural body - he limps, walks clunky, makes noise... he is hindered.
He also has a glass eye. It is magical and better-than-normal, but still has a cost: People think he looks disturbing. People distrust him.
He is usually called by a disparaging nickname - Mad-Eye.
He doesn't personally seem to mind, he has thick skin, but even in the newspaper he is called 'Mad-Eye Moody' rather than Alastor Moody.
That's pretty fucked up considering his service to the world.
His service that has left him disfigured. His face doesn't move correctly, his mouth and nose are misshapen, he is more scars than skin.
He looks so shocking to others that when he entered as a new teacher only two people who were already close to him clapped. Everyone else was stunned silent and freaked out. That is an ableist response - something people with facial disfigurement do put up with daily.
Alastor is a veteran, a war hero, a Legend... and within a decade has become a commonly insulted and disrespected joke, placed alongside 'half-giants' and 'werewolves'. (both society deem as sub-human)
Why? Because he has been physically and mentally affected.
Mad-eye Moody, who has gone 'so crazy' he is scared to leave a heavily booby-trapped Muggle house. He is anxious, hyper-vigilant, paranoid, twitchy, particular about food and drink... because he is traumatized.
Alastor is a one-eyed, disfigured amputee with mental and emotional issues that hinder his ability to work and live comfortably - and have him suffer extreme ableism from his society.
He is very disabled, basically - and magic doesn't fix it.
But he isn't used as a tragedy-case either. He isn't a lost cause, quivering fool, lost in flashbacks, "poor grandpa..." plot device.
He is wise, brave, compassionate - when people listen to him as a human rather than a ''crazy ugly freak'' - they think he is fantastic.
Remus shows another, rarely portrayed side of disability.
Does any of this sound familiar:
- Being capable, willing and wanting to work - but the fact you need some small accommodations makes that almost impossible?
- Passed up over and over for healthy people, even when your condition doesn't hinder your work at all?
- Needing work to survive - but just to get work you need to not mention your disability? Need to pretend you're able bodied?
- The day you bring your walker or cane or medication to work, or have one too many small incidents, is the day they treat you differently.
- In public people give you shit for using disabled services because you don't 'look disabled'
- When people find out you have a disability they don't approve of, they think you are a layabout faker leeching off of society?
- Yet you have to fight tooth and nail for any sort of government aid - and it is never enough to actually keep you afloat?
- Endless paperwork, meetings, assessments - your fate in government systems reliant on the whims of whoever see's you?
- Poorly understood conditions where people think you are crazy, dangerous, violent, stupid or contagious?
- Sometimes people straight up spitting on you or saying you should be 'put down' because you're sick?
- Any medication you can get doesn't help much - and might cost far too much?
- The ableism is so constant you start to believe it? That you are 'ruined', 'useless' or 'faking it'?
This is the reality Remus Lupin lives in, with a poorly understood invisible disability that leaves him having to pretend to be able-bodied just to survive the societal ableism... despite being a very capable man, when given the most basic accommodations and kindness.
((I wanted to note that the author did directly compare Lycanthropy to HIV/AIDS.
Because she is a fucking idiot. What a stupid thing to do, directly compare a fantasy condition to a real one. The implications are awful.
It is obvious she based what Remus goes through to EXPERIENCES people with HIV/AIDS have - but it is not a 1:1. they are experiences shared by many disabilities.))
People with disability's are allowed to exist in the world of Harry Potter without being fixed. Even with magical disabilities and magical cures, the realities of living with physical difference or invisible chronic illness is given weight and focus most things simply ignore.
I suppose what it doesn't do is offer named conditions. Nobody has Rheumatoid Arthritis, nobody has an SCI, nobody has POTS.
Which is a shame. That is an awesome thing to do.
With the skills of the author however... I'm glad she didn't.
She would only cock up trying to portray an actual condition.
Fantasy conditions, however, are safer to portray key experiences of being disabled without risking insulting inaccuracies.
If only more fantasy or sci-fi works took that advice...
You know, I agree with every word you wrote. I just think the person in question was referring to a character they could see themselves in, and I’m assuming they were a teenager, so I excluded Moody and Lupin. As for Harry: yes, it is absolutely true that to need a tool to be able to live as “normally” as anyone else can be considered it, but at the same time I understand how that might not be enough for a person with a disability to feel properly represented.
And yes! I’m glad she didn’t too, all things considered… she would have done more damage than anything else, probably :,)
It’s the same with fat characters. It’s so sad to me that being fat (at least if you’re a student/a kid) equals being annoying or being a negative character in the HP world. But at the same time, I can’t even imagine what would’ve happened if she had tried to write one properly… nah, let’s leave that for fics and people who actually know what they’re talking about.
Thank you for your comments anyway! I appreciate them a lot 💜
Some time ago, two years to be precise, I saw a post on Reddit in which a person talked about how sad they were that there’s no disability representation in the Harry Potter saga. No disabled character in which they could see themselves. And I agreed 100%
Someone replied to that post saying something along the lines of “well of course there aren’t disabled characters, because it’s a MAGICAL world. Disabilities would just be cured with magic. How are you supposed to make a disabled character in a world like that?”
Which is stupid af, because of course you can make a disabled character in a magical world. You just give them a magical disability
So, anyway, two years, 6 longfics (one still in progress) and around 900k words later, that character exists. I don’t think that person will ever find him or my works, but he exists, and it makes me happy
(Also maybe he’s got a boyfriend. And maybe he’s a bit genderqueer too, because why not)
Fics: A Proper Wizard (one shot, introducing the character); Æternus (series of 5 long fics, Severus Snape POV, in which he’s one of the main characters); Symbiotic Binary (long fic, the same story told in Æternus, but from his POV). More fics are planned ✨
Welcome to me answering questions nobody asked. Today’s episode is:
If I think Severus is queer coded, why the hell did I choose a woman when I had to create a character who was supposed to be his partner?
The answer is pretty simple: ace representation and gender roles.
I wanted to explore Severus Snape as an ace character, and in doing so, I needed to openly defy specific stereotypes I hate in narrative. The first of which is: a man and a woman can't love each other without their love being sexual.
Because they can. There are a billion forms of intimacy a man and a woman can share beyond the physical one. And THAT's what I wanted to talk about.
And so, I have created Omegas. A woman who's just as uninterested in physicality. A woman with which he bonds through their shared intelligence, cynicism and conversations. Because that's what feels realistic when l imagine him in a relationship.
I wrote her to be similar to him enough to be plausible they fall in love, but I queer coded her the opposite way of Severus: she’s probably the most masculine character I have ever created.
And it's never stated explicitly if they've ever been intimate with each other. Not once in 760k words; it's left ambiguous.
Because that's not important.
Because a man and a woman can love each other without ulterior motives, and without gender roles being involved in their relationship.
I also gave her the aesthetic of a giant asexual flag because the idea genuinely made me smile :)
Thanks for staying with me while I yap about my hyperfixations!
By: someone graduated in media analysis who should be doing this for a living instead of wasting time on social media but here we are
There are two different answers to this question; because they're actually two different questions.
Can Severus Snape be read as queer coded?
Is Severus Snape supposed to be read as queer coded?
1. Can he be read as queer coded?
Yes. Virtually any character can be read as queer coded; sometimes easily so, some other times it’s more far fetched. But the answer is always yes.
And with Severus it’s pretty easy.
Canon facts: Severus Snape has only ever felt romantic (and, we can assume, physical) attraction for one woman. Even though he was a teenager when they stopped being friends, and in his twenties when she died, and even though he never experienced any form of intimacy with her, the feeling never faded. He was canonically never interested in anybody else.
"Well, then he's straight," you might think.
Sure, if that’s how you choose to interpret him. But l'd say there are more than enough reasons to read him as in the aroace spectrum.
It's not exactly common to only ever experience attraction towards one person, and then towards no one ever again, even though you haven't seen her in 17 years. And yes, grief might be enough to numb romance. But physical attraction? Hmm…
Sounds a bit demisexual to me.
2. Is he supposed to be read as queer coded?
That's another matter entirely. In my opinion?
Yes.
Consider who wrote him: someone we know for a fact has very strict ideas regarding genders and gender roles. Someone who has a, shall we say... limited comprehension of what being queer means.
Consider that the author in question, when she had to choose an insult to direct at Severus to bully him, chose "Snivellus".
From "snivelling": to whine, cry, complain. An offensive term used to describe someone who's very sensitive.
(She basically called him a pussy through James Potter’s mouth.)
Consider that, while the golden trio is trying to understand who the Half-Blood Prince is, Hermione (the smartest one in the group and the only girl) suggests he may be a woman, because of the calligraphy and the way he writes.
Also consider that Severus Snape is supposed to be read as an ambiguous character throughout most of the story, in an age in which queer-coding villains was basically the norm.
And when is it that the narrative decides to unequivocally tell us that he was one of the good guys?
When it tells us that he's always been in love with a woman.
Bit of "Don’t worry, guys. He's actually straight; he's one of the good ones.”
Not to mention that the entire Slytherin house, particularly the Death Eaters, can easily be read as queer coded in more than one way.
But that's for another day.
Short answer: YES.
Severus Snape belongs to the gays and the theys, and you cannot change my mind.
Also, please remember that this is my interpretation of Severus Snape, and that the way we interpret art is always subjective. Something is rarely objectively right or objectively wrong in media analysis. Don't come at me for this, thank you very much.
If you like my interpretation of Severus Snape, or if you want to know more about it, I have written lots of fics from his POV in an ever-expanding Harry Potter AU. You can find everything in my pinned post!
“Severus Snape was a bad person” discourse is so boring man
“But he bullied kids” “but he was a death eater” “but it’s not because of the marauders because he loved the dark arts before too” dude I so don’t care
“Neville was so scared of him his boggart—” he could’ve decapitated Neville with an axe in the middle of potions class. I don’t give a fuck
So y’all I really think this is the best thing I wrote that has Severus Snape as a main character, so I’m going to make it everyone’s problem. On god I’m putting this everywhere.
TW: psychological abuse, domestic violence.
25th August, 1975
There was silence at Spinner’s End, Number 9. Within those walls, silence was never a synonym for peace; more often than not, it meant tension. Which, all things considered, was still preferable to the alternative.
A table had been set up just beyond the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. The house had never been designed to accommodate a dining room. It was clearly intended for a single man who worked in one of the nearby factories and was too exhausted to concern himself with something as mundane as setting the table. It was a house built for the kind of man who would sit in an armchair with a whisky and call that supper.
As it happened, that was exactly the sort of man who lived there. The problem with the owner of Spinner’s End, Number 9—as with every previous owner—was that the men of the Snape family had bowed to the social expectation to marry and produce at least one heir, generation after generation.
An heir to what, none of them had ever really known. For decades, perhaps even centuries, anyone unfortunate enough to bear that surname had barely scraped by.
Every man in the Snape family had married a relatively quiet woman; ‘pliant’, as Tobias’ father, Ernest, had always described his wife, Patricia. Women who did not complain or aspire—or at least never admitted to aspiring—to be anything more than mothers and housewives. Each of them had fathered a single son and raised him in accordance with Snape tradition: one stroke of the belt is worth a thousand words.
Then Eileen came along.
Eileen was different; Tobias had always known that. At first, it had been exciting. She was a mysterious woman on the run from a family she would not even name, eager to defy convention and utterly uninterested in social expectations. It had been thrilling when Tobias was eighteen.
Now, however, Tobias was forty. The lively sparkle in thirty-eight-year-old Eileen’s eyes was no longer exciting; it was childish. Her mysterious origins were no longer intriguing; they were something to hide, something to be ashamed of and never to mention. Being different was no longer charming. It was something to be discouraged. Something to be punished.
But Eileen had never given in. She had desired a child more than Tobias had desired an heir, and she had yearned for a home more than Tobias had needed a house. So the table appeared in the only small patch of empty space the house offered. No matter how hard Tobias tried to turn every meal into an argument, Eileen never allowed that to stop her from sitting down and sharing mealtimes with him.
Like a family.
Severus had never understood why she kept trying. As far as he was concerned, they might as well have eaten separately—preferably in different rooms and without speaking to one another. Sitting in that chair while his father sat at the head of the table, stuffing himself without so much as a word of thanks, and his mother forced brittle smiles while her leg trembled beneath the table, made him feel sick.
“Not hungry, Sev?” she asked softly, glancing at the plate piled high with bangers and mash.
Severus looked at her. The mere thought of eating any of it made his stomach churn.
“Not very.”
“The boy’s never hungry, Leen,” his father muttered between mouthfuls of sausage. “It doesn’t take a genius to work that out. Just look at him.”
Severus was used to remarks like that. He received between five and fifteen of them every day, most of which were exactly like that one: half-muttered to his mother as though he were not even in the room. They did not stop at his being skinny. His father found fault with almost everything: the way he spoke, moved, walked and stood; when he was too quiet; when he did something; and when he did nothing at all.
By then, he had become completely numb to it. He reached for his glass of water and lifted it to his lips with deliberate indifference.
“The salad’s very good, though,” he added, pulling the bowl towards him.
Eileen had a habit of adding some of the magical herbs she grew in a pot beneath the sitting room windowsill to her salads. Growing herbs and brewing potions were the only magical things she could still manage; they were discreet enough to escape Tobias’ notice. Every now and then, she would slip Valerian leaves into Severus’ meals or stir one of her homemade elixirs into his porridge to provide him with what little nourishment he could get, despite their poverty and his constant nausea.
Severus knew. It was their secret. Comments about the food were the only way he could share a quiet moment of complicity with her when his father was present.
Eileen smiled and nodded as she took the salad bowl from him.
“It can’t be genetic, can it?” Tobias went on, shovelling another great spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
He was right—it wasn’t genetic.
His father stood at over six foot three and carried with pride more than sixteen stone of muscle, most of which he had earned through hard labour—a fact he never failed to complain about yet somehow insisted ennobled him. His mother was slender, though not unusually so for a woman. She was even taller than average.
Severus had no idea why he had turned out the way he had. He was fifteen, yet his body showed no sign of ceasing to resemble that of a thirteen-year-old. While his classmates changed, he remained exactly the same. Perhaps it was a curse—perhaps he was doomed to stay that way forever. He scarcely cared. In fact, if it irritated his father, he did not mind in the least.
“I reckon it’s ingratitude,” Tobias grumbled, spraying a mouthful of wine as he spoke. “Maybe the boy thinks food just appears on his plate by itself. That no one has to work to put it there.”
“Tob,” Eileen said quietly.
It wasn’t a genuine warning; there was no conviction behind it. It was the sort of timid plea that said, ‘Please. Just for one evening. Just this once, let us have dinner in peace.’
Severus had stopped caring about peace a long time before. The only reason he never rose to his father’s bait was because doing so would have been exactly what the man wanted.
Tobias ignored his wife entirely, fixing his son with a look of such utter contempt that Severus awarded it a solid eight out of ten. He sometimes scored his father’s expressions: zero for ‘surprisingly mild’, ten for ‘he’s about to kill me’.
Tobias held his gaze for a moment before turning away with theatrical disdain and resuming his meal as though nothing had happened.
Eileen glanced anxiously around the room, as she always did, searching for a topic of conversation that could fill the silence without provoking the man seated beside her. No easy task.
“So, Sev,” she said, forcing a crooked smile. “Are you excited about going back to school?”
School, thought Severus.
That was a relatively safe topic. His father disapproved of his attending a wizarding school, but he was happier at the prospect of his greatest disappointment leaving home again.
Nicely done, Mum. Nine out of ten.
“It’s all right,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m looking forward to getting back to studying.”
Tobias gave a derisive snort.
“Studying…” he muttered.
Both Severus and Eileen pretended not to hear him.
“Aren’t you looking forward to seeing your friends again?” she asked.
Severus lowered his gaze to his plate. He pushed his spoon into the mashed potatoes, took a small scoop, then dropped it back onto the plate.
“Of course,” he mumbled.
His mother studied him with quiet, measured concern. His father let out a bitter laugh.
“Oh, please…”
Severus’ eyes snapped up to meet the man’s hard stare. It happened sometimes. He would promise himself that he would not take the bait, but eventually he gave in. It had been happening more and more ever since he was given a wand. Knowing that he could cast a curse at him if necessary had given him a quiet sense of power that was slowly pulling him out of the bubble of terror in which his father had kept him imprisoned.
“What’s funny?”
Tobias’ nostrils flared.
“Don’t you dare use that tone with me!” he barked.
Severus held his gaze, but said nothing. Not because he had nothing to say. Because he knew he would not be the one to pay for his own defiance. He folded his arms and looked back down at his plate.
Satisfied, Tobias picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth and tossed it carelessly onto the table.
“You know perfectly well he hasn’t got any friends to go back to,” he spat, turning to his wife. “The only friend he has is the neighbour’s daughter he sneaks off to see at night, thinking we don’t notice.”
“Tob!” Eileen exclaimed.
Meanwhile, Severus had lowered his head until a lock of black hair slipped across his forehead. The familiar pallor of his face gave way to a faint flush on his cheeks.
“If he were sneaking off for a bit of snogging behind our backs, at least that would be normal for a fifteen-year-old,” Tobias sneered. “But of course not. He goes there to chat. Mark my words, one of these days they’ll be brushing each other’s hair.”
“Tob, that’s enough.”
“It’s all right, really,” he went on relentlessly. “That little redhead needs a girlfriend. I can’t imagine she’s having much of a life either.”
Severus was on his feet before he realised it.
The chair scraped violently across the floor—a noise that had earned him countless harsh rebukes over the years—and he stood facing his father, his head still bowed and his hair still hanging across his face.
Tobias rose cautiously, his expression verging on an amused grin. He took a couple of slow steps forward until he was standing directly in front of his son.
“Tobias, please!” Eileen cried, already on her feet and ready to step in.
“What are you going to do with that?” he hissed, nodding towards Severus’ pocket.
Without thinking—a reflex born of more than one ambush in the corridors of Hogwarts—Severus’ hand went straight to his wand, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“Are you going to show me one of your little magic tricks, boy? Or are you going to face me like a man for once?”
Severus considered it. The man standing before him was at least three times his size; he wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that he could beat him in a fair fight. But Merlin, how he wanted to show him one of his magic tricks…
Perhaps one he’d never had the chance to try before. The one that tied the victim’s tongue into knots? Or the one that stitched their lips together? Or maybe the one that left their bones as brittle as glass? Or even better, the one that covered their body with deep, bleeding bites as though a savage dog had torn into them.
He pictured them all. He saw his father dangling upside down before him, begging to be let down. He saw him clutching at his chest and fighting desperately for breath, his face slowly turning purple as he pleaded for mercy. He saw himself refusing.
He saw himself laughing.
“Tobias,” Eileen said steadily.
She had stepped between them, her arms outstretched. She met her husband’s intense gaze without flinching.
“Tobias,” she repeated. “No.”
Slowly, his eyes moved from his son to her. His expression did not change in the slightest, but the fist he had been clenching gradually relaxed. He said nothing. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and looked at Severus from beneath lowered brows, his expression a familiar mixture of pity, resentment, and disappointment. Severus had come to interpret that look as ‘you’re not even worth it’.
Then he turned away and walked towards the bedroom, his nose in the air, with the unhurried composure of a man utterly convinced of his own righteousness.
Eileen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned back to Severus, offered him a trembling smile, and bent down until their faces were level. Cupping his cheek in one hand, she brushed her thumb gently across his skin.
“Go to your room, Sev,” she murmured. “Get some rest. These are your last few days of the holidays, after all.”
Severus did not even try to return her smile. He knew he couldn’t.
“Don’t go in there,” he whispered. “There’s no point. You’re trying to reason with an animal. It’ll only bite you.”
Eileen let her hand fall from his cheek and stood up straight. Much of the tenderness disappeared from her face.
“That’s your father you’re talking about,” she said firmly. “Your family.”
Severus wrinkled his nose.
“You are my family,” he mumbled through gritted teeth.
Her expression softened again, but only slightly. She tucked the stray lock of hair back behind his ear and nodded towards the other side of the living room.
“Go to your room,” she repeated.
Severus gave up. There was no point. Nothing he did or said ever made any difference. He did not look at her as he walked past her and crossed the room.
It wasn’t really his room; it was a cupboard that had been emptied, furnished and covered in pale blue wallpaper to hide the cracks in the walls. Severus hated that wallpaper. While not particularly ugly, it had been hung carelessly and the floral pattern slanted slightly to the left. Even worse, it wasn’t symmetrical. On the wall opposite his bed, there were exactly forty-three little white roses from the far right-hand side to the centre, but only forty-two on the other side. It was unbearably irritating.
Severus knew because whenever he needed to distract himself from his surroundings, he counted things. At Spinner’s End, the walls were not thick enough to allow for a private conversation, and the men were not calm enough for one to be conducted in whispers.
“Do you have any idea what sort of son you’re raising? Do you realise that nobody wants him around, not even at that school for lunatics you insisted on sending him to? Even among freaks, they think he’s a freak!”
“How can you call your own son a freak? Can you even hear what you’re saying?”
Thirty-three… Thirty-four… Thirty-five…
“I know perfectly well what I’m saying! You’re too soft—that’s your problem! You know what my father did if I refused the food he put on the table? He’d belt me twice, send me to bed and put the same plate in front of me at breakfast. If you’d just let me do my duty as his father—”
“I don’t care what your father did! You’re not allowed to—”
“DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME WHAT I’M ALLOWED TO DO!”
“LET GO OF ME! LEAVE ME NOW!”
Forty… forty-one… forty-two.
There were only forty-two. It was awful. Who in Merlin’s name would hang wallpaper with an uneven number of roses? A madman, that’s who.
My user subscriptions on Ao3 have tripled in the last week. I'm very happy about it!
But also we are living in 2026, and there are some topics that need to be addressed if you make art online, especially if it's fandom related art.
So, let's do it!
Just as I did regarding the jkr discourse: I will talk about this once, put it in my pinned post and call it a day. Because I live in fear of being accused of using generative Al, and also because I’m autistic I tend to overexplain everything.
NOTHING of what I do—not the art, but especially NOT the writing—is made with Al.
I think the generative Al discourse requires critical thinking, just like anything else. I am not in any way enough of an expert to judge the use of generative Al; all I know is that there is a pollution problem to take into consideration when you do.
So this is not merely a moral principle. I don't use generative Al because I don't understand it.
I like art. Art is pretty much the reason I'm still alive (not to be dramatic).
I love making art: I love the process, I love making mistakes, I love rewriting the same scene again and again until I'm satisfied. I love when something is imperfect and the thin line that separates a mistake from an artist's signature.
I would never use Al to make my stuff because I don't understand why anyone would want to get rid of that process. Even more when it's fanfiction.
If it's about generating something and profiting from it, I simply label it as greed and it makes sense. I still wouldn't, but it makes sense.
But fanfiction? Nobody's paying me or none of us to make this stuff. We do it for the love of the game. What's the point of avoiding the game?
In short: nothing of mine you'll ever find is Al generated. I might use a reader from time to time, because english is not my first language and I'm not very confident with my accent. But that's all!
10 things about Severus Snape’s portrayal in fics that I don't particularly like
(Which means I still fully support you using them, but I simply don't use them in my fics)
1. When he's "big and strong"
Severus Snape is not big and strong in the canon.
He's repeatedly described as thin, almost the sick kind of thin, and rather short. Not too short, but short enough for Sirius to be remarkably taller.
Yeah, I know Alan Rickman doesn't exactly fit this description, as much as l love him. I simply like books Severus more.
2. When he’s a “macho” or a “daddy”
No slut shaming. You do you.
As a media analyst though... Severus is kinda queer coded. The Marauders called him "Snivellus" because he cried a lot (from "snivelling"). Basically because he was a sensitive boy. During a huge part of HBP (book) plot they suggest that the Half Blood Prince may be a woman because of how he writes in Advanced Potions. Also his father was a toxic macho man. I personally can't see him becoming something he hated so much.
3. When he flirts a lot
Now... I'm not saying he's COMPLETELY inexperienced...
(Even though he is in my fics, because he lost every desire to be experienced after Lily's death)
I just can't see him flirting.
The man who looked like he could throw up at any given moment during the Yule Ball? Don't think so…
4. When he's too calm and composed
This is debatable, because he actually is in the movies. They didn't include one of my favourite chapters in POA, "Snape's Grudge", as well as many other scenes from the books in which he's an absolute menace (honorific).
"Snape's face contorted with rage" >>>>>
5. When he's completely apathetic
Doesn't happen as often as the other things, but sometimes it does.
Severus is not apathetic.
He's written just like any other INTJ character. He feels a lot, possibly more than anyone else. He's just learned that he can't show it, due to trauma, and due to nature. If the fic is written in his pov, like mines, you have the chance to give a glimpse into his inner self. He feels. He just doesn't accept he's feeling.
6. When he's overly serious
He doesn't joke, he doesn't prank, of course. He's not exactly the life of the party...
But damn my man was funny af.
"You have to kill me, Severus."
"Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"
Like come oooon
7. When he suddenly becomes a joy to be around
Specifically in post-war fics.
I understand that he doesn't need to be under cover anymore, and yes, maybe he'd get SLIGHTLY less depressed, but... he's got trauma and 38 miserable years behind him. I don't find it realistic that he's suddenly happy as soon as he wakes up after surviving.
8. When he's portrayed as a hero/as a good person
Please, as the Snape fandom, let's not lie to ourselves. He enjoyed being cruel to the students, especially in the books. He liked it in a kind of sadistic way. And that's okay, he's a fictional character, we can enjoy him anyway. It's part of his charm.
9. When he's handsome
Similar to the "big and strong" one, but not quite the same.
I don't like when he's described as pretty. When the fic explicitly states that his hair is groomed, or that he has muscles, or that he smells like wood and musk, or whatever.
My man is obviously written to have PTSD. As someone who has PTSD... I find it more plausible he barely takes care of himself. He canonically has greasy hair, uneven yellow teeth and people hint at the fact that he's not exactly a fan of showers.
And yes, I like it. I LOVE it.
Realistic portrayal of past abuse. Chef's kiss
10. When he hates for no reason
Don't get me wrong. He's a hater. He's the biggest hater.
But he hates with critical thinking. He's quite possibly the cleverest character of the saga. Even if he hates someone for unjustifiable reasons (like with Harry) he needs to rationalise his hatred (stating that it's because Harry constantly gets into trouble and lying to himself).
