The Unforgivable Crimes 😱
In which we’re gonna play the devil’s advocate.
1. Threatened to poison Neville’s toad

The Trevor scene, in paper:
His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned —
“Orange, Longbottom,” said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. [or so Harry assumes]
“Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?”
Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.
“Please, sir,” said Hermione, “please, I could help Neville put it right —”
“I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. “Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.”
Not great. Snape is not a suitable teacher for an introductory class, or for insecure children like Neville. But Snape’s anger is not irrational or exaggerated.
A particularly nasty mood is understandable at this time in the series:
“Have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black’s been sighted.”
“Where?” […]
“Not too far from here,” said Seamus.
Snape believes that Black betrayed the Potters and wants to go after Harry. Black also nearly murdered him in their fifth year, so Snape has reason to be on edge. Not to mention, the Dementors that are patrolling Hogwarts must be having some nasty side effects on the Potions Master, and Lupin, one of his childhood bullies and the werewolf who nearly mauled him to death as a child, was recently appointed the Defense teacher despite Snape’s objections to the Headmaster. So that already sets the tone of this year.
Furthermore, the class was assigned homework during the summer over the Shrinking Potion:
This separation from his spellbooks had been a real problem for Harry, because his teachers at Hogwarts had given him a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions […]
Snape writes the instructions on the blackboard, which were likely also improved and made easier thanks to his own modifications, given that anyone who follows the instructions can succeed (unlike under Slughorn):
- “The ingredients and method” — Snape flicked his wand — “are on the blackboard” — (they appeared there) — “you will find everything you need” — he flicked his wand again — “in the store cupboard” — (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) — “you have an hour and a half… Start.”
- Determined not to give Snape an excuse to fail him this lesson, Harry read and reread every line of the instructions on the blackboard at least three times before acting on them. [OotP]
The Potions Master orally specifies important steps, to make sure that no one fails them:
“Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice?”
And yet, despite Snape’s efforts, Neville fails. It’s been three years of failure, both from Neville to achieve a proper potion, and from Snape to make the boy succeed.
Failure is not something to be laughed about in Potions class. The first time Neville failed, his potion blew up in his face, got him injured and nearly injured other students. Neville is a danger not only to himself, but to others, which would set any teacher on edge, thus Snape’s insistent attempts to make him learn. Unfortunately for Neville (and Snape), his teacher doesn’t understand why the boy cannot seem to progress, nor what to do to help him: « What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?”
Snape reverts to using negative reinforcement, which comes out as bullying and which is not suitable for an anxiety-ridden student at all, who must on the contrary be reassured and guided with kindness. But Snape doesn’t seem to have learned how to use positive reinforcement in class: he never attributes points to his students, not even his Slytherins; he rarely compliments them; if he does, he delivers back-handed compliments. It’s no surprise, really, considering his background (which we will explore later).
Snape states his motives plainly: to get Neville to understand. He devises another strategy – using Neville’s own toad as a test subject, in the hope that it « will encourage [him] to do it properly » this time. I believe that making Trevor the toad test Neville’s potion had a double message: if Neville doesn’t pull himself together, then his toad might not be the only one he will come to harm. That would be indeed a great motive to do better in class, especially if Snape thinks Neville’s failure is explained by him not bothering to do his best. And considering they use animals in classes such as Transfiguration to practise their magic, and that students can use their own pets for training (Ron on Scabbers, Harry on Trevor), it’s not inappropriate at all.
Is this abuse? In Hogwarts, this is not. And in our world, not only Snape wouldn’t be allowed to teach under Dumbledore or without particular supervision, but dangerous chemistry classes that could easily result in children getting hurt or killed would simply never play out. And if they did, a student like Neville would never be allowed in them. As for bringing his pet toad in a dangerous class that involves handling poisons and white-hot cauldrons and explosives? Do you imagine bringing your dog or cat, rabbit or reptilian, rodent or bird – that has the reputation of scattering away – to a lab-level chemistry class? I’m surprised Snape allowed Neville to keep his pet toad in class in the first place. Okay, maybe Snape needs to be bonked for this one. But there’s an explanation to that: he may trust himself enough with handling the situation if something happened. Which is why testing Neville’s potion on his toad would not be a great deal – he has the situation under control.
Eventually, thanks to Hermione’s help, the potion turned out alright. We know that Snape is the kind of Potions Master that can immediately tell from the way a potion looks if it was successfully prepared and if not, what exactly went wrong with the recipe:
- I suppose you added the porcupine quills before removing the cauldron from the fire?
- Didn’t I state plainly that one dash of leech juice would suffice
- Can you read/read the instructions OotP passage
So when he looked at Neville’s potion at the end of the lesson, he could tell it was successful and that Hermione must have helped Neville. The so-called toad-killer also has a bottle of the antidote in his other pocket.
Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville’s potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor’s throat.
There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape’s palm.
The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.
(Did Trevor open his mouth on his own so that Snape could pour the potion from the spoon? That’s a lot of trust coming from a magical toad.)
Is he sour because he hoped to kill Trevor? Maybe he is sour for the reason he says he is:
“I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”
This is also why he docks five points, not because Neville got it right.
(Personally, I think the narrator said that Snape looked sour because Harry assumed he wanted Neville to fail, so he pointed out Snape’s immediate expression to highlight the Gryffindors’ victory. Despite, you know, Snape always looking sour. Or the fact that the professor who speaks barely above a whisper, who prefers a calm and quiet environment, probably doesn’t like that half the class suddenly bursts into applause, just because a student got a potion right thanks to cheating, technically. And despite the fact that it’s absurd to imply that Snape wanted Trevor to get hurt or Neville to fail even though he explicitly stated that he wanted Neville to make an effort to succeed.)
Admittedly, Snape’s behaviour is actually kinda weird in this scene.
He will accuse Hermione that she disobeyed him by helping Neville when he told her not to (and later on in the book he accuses Neville of cheating) and yet… that’s not exactly what he said, is it?
When Hermione offers to help Neville, Snape quickly cuts her off, saying:
‘I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,’ said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville.
So he doesn’t exactly say “do not help him, he has to learn from his mistakes”. Instead he says “do not show off”, which could be read as “if you plan to help your friend, do not say it aloud, dummy.”
Hermione would be the perfect student to notice the subtleties. The student who was able to solve Snape’s Potion Riddle challenge in first year is the same who was able to translate this:
“The Dark Arts,” said Snape, “are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.” […] “Your defenses,” said Snape, a little louder, “must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. […]”
Into this:
“Yes, when you were telling us what it’s like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn’t just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts – well, wasn’t that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?”
It doesn’t stop there! Immediately after Hermione offered her help and Snape brushed her off, saying they will test the potion on Trevor:
Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.
Oh, that’s so convenient! What a perfect opportunity for Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom!
If Snape so wanted to prevent her from helping Neville, and if he knew that she was already intent on helping him not fail, then why immediately move away, leaving Hermione free to help her classmate without getting caught? If Snape’s intention was to ensure Neville would fail the test – or that at least Hermione wouldn’t brave his orders – he would keep a close watch on him until the class ended. But in canon, he does the exact opposite!
So either Snape is an idiot who sabotaged himself, or he secretly approved of Hermione’s help – him being the Head of the Hogwarts House that values using shrewdness and stealth to help those we consider family (“Or perhaps in Slytherin, you’ll make your real friends, those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends”), and him being the same teacher who taught Harry in first year that he wanted classmates to help each other… without showing off one’s superiority on the subject:
‘You – Potter – why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.’
At the end of the day, Snape’s goal isn’t to harm a student’s pet, or even to kill it. Let alone to kill it. (Joke with Malo-Mart Zelda music: Toad-Killer)
First: Why let Neville the opportunity to correct his potion if all Snape wanted was to kill his pet? Why not administer the failed potion immediately?
Second: if he so badly wanted to kill Neville’s toad, why is it the only lesson in which Trevor is directly involved, and why only remove 5 poor points when Hermione “saved” it instead of 50 or something, or why not give Neville tons of detentions with open opportunities to torture Trevor or something?
Three: it just isn’t in-character for Snape to kill a student’s pet just like that. He’s a teacher who’s very concerned with school safety, notably in his class. In his first Potion lesson, he makes a point about bezoars, stones that heal people from most poisons, which he keeps in stock (and which helped Harry save Ron when Slughorn wouldn’t do anything). When Harry throws a firework in Goyle’ potion in CoS, Snape was quick to heal the whole class from the blown-up Swelling Solution thanks to the antidotes he had on hand, and he is the Potions Master who provides Pomfrey with healing potions such as the Mandrake Restorative Draught. As for pets, this is the guy who saved Mrs Norris from Petrification, and as Whitehound beautifully explains in her essay on HBP:
And then, as Snape fled, Buckbeak tore at him, and Snape did nothing to defend himself. Even if he hadn’t the energy for another Avada Kedavra you would think he would be able to do something to drop a flying predator the size of a horse which was trying to maul him, but he does nothing. Just as he would not fire on Minerva and Filius even when they were trying to kill him, so he was apparently willing to let himself be mauled, rather than either harm an innocent animal or upset Hagrid by hurting his pet.
It should be evident that he was ready to heal Trevor if it really got poisoned badly, and that he’s not particularly interested in killing toads. In fact, Snape might have wanted to test the potion on Trevor with Neville’s initial failed version because just by looking at it, he could tell it had turned into a poison, but one not so bad that it would kill or disable or torture a magic toad – just get it sick or something. Something he could immediately arrange with an antidote.
Here is a most overlooked but decisive fact that proves that Snape neither wanted nor tried to kill Neville’s pet: The Shrinking Potion reduced Trevor to a tadpole [« Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape’s palm »]. Hermione getting the potion right didn’t save Neville’s pet at all! A poisoned toad can still live and even heal on its own; tadpoles do not survive out of water and are doomed to die in a matter of seconds. Snape is the one saving Trevor: he immediately administers an antidote, and Trevor is reverted back to a fully grown toad.
A Snape as evil as haters make him out to be would have let Trevor die of asphyxia in his hand and justified it as punishment for Hermione helping Neville and Neville letting her do. If Snape really wanted that bloody toad dead, you’d wonder why it’s still very much alive for years to come. #snevor
Snape’s goal in this class was not to kill a toad nor to be a sadist. It was a misguided attempt to teach. Nothing was ever going to happen to Trevor.
Sidenote: Creature & animal cruelty is commonplace in HP and treated as a joke
- Sentient or semi-sentient animals are experimented on regularly in Transfiguration
And many more kinds of animals than toads. For instance:
- Harry looked down at the pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers.
- Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox – points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers.
- […] glaring at a series of diagrams showing an owl turning into a pair of opera glasses.
- « Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!«
This is great! Not only does McGonagall tell her students to turn sentient animals into various pieces of furniture and the kind, but she makes her students test their transfiguration spells by intending to stick a pin into a (transfigured) hedgehog. For all we know, it can still feel the pain (only, it would be unable to move away or scream). Couldn’t she teach students how to conjure or produce a pincushion or turn another object into a pincushion instead of transfiguring an animal for that purpose? Could you imagine how easy it would be for a wizard to abuse an animal with Transfiguration or just turn them into furniture at will with no regards to that animal’s dignity? Furthermore, imagine a wizard wants to kill animals (including humans) and hide their bodies; all they’d have to do is transfigure them into objects, which they practised under McGonagall’s watch. She’s making it too easy.
Oh, but there’s worse. In OotP, McGonagall has students train on Vanishing animals:
[…] all three of them had managed to vanish their mice in Transfiguration (Hermione had actually progressed to vanishing kittens) […]
Later:
At least he managed to vanish the whole of his iguana, whereas poor Hannah Abbott lost her head completely at the next table and somehow managed to multiply her ferret into a flock of flamingos, causing the examination to be halted for ten minutes while the birds were captured and carried out of the Hall.
But what does Vanishing do, exactly? Well, McGonagall gives us that answer in DH:
“Where do Vanished objects go?”
“Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything,” replied Professor McGonagall.
“Nicely phrased,” replied the eagle door knocker, and the door swung open.
Even the eagle door knocker of Ravenclaw’s common room seems to get sarcastic at the way McGonagall “nicely phrased” it. She just admitted that Vanishing an animal equals killing it.

If you wanted to nickpick, you could say that kittens do not count as objects; yet we know that Accio works on animals like Trevor and fish, despite supposedly only working on objects, meaning that kittens do count for the Vanishing spell.
McGonagall has effectively been making cat-loving students send kittens “into nonbeing”, which is to stay killing them. If we consider that in HP, animals have a soul (which is not a given in a universe where you can only Accio inanimate objects and characters successfully perform Accio on animals, thus equating animals to objects), then by Vanishing them, students might also be Vanishing their souls. They simply would not exist anymore, not even in a hypothetical afterlife. They’re deader than Harry’s parents. Simply… erased from existence. MacNair beheading Buckbeak had more humanity. Do you see Harry casually transfiguring Hedwig into a new pair of glasses? Or Hermione Vanishing Crookshanks? If not, what does that tell about the moral framework of HP – and McGonagall’s lessons in particular?
For that matter, imagine a student fails a bit more and only half of an animal is Vanished. In HBP Susan Bones Apparated without her leg in a horrible screech of pain (ie Splinching), and the above OotP quote puts a weird emphasis on the fact that Harry managed to Vanish “the whole of his iguana”, so that is definitely a possibility. Yes, you can heal the animal, but that would still be a traumatising and painful experience for the animal and potentially the kid if only half of it remained – or a lethal one, if the kid manages to Vanish its brains.
McGonagall is training her students on ways to kill animals, use them as test subjects for spells, mutate them into objects, and she’s teaching students it’s okay to do it. Not to mention, the potential traumatising gore of half-Vanishing an animal and seeing its guts exposed, or an animal pulling its half-Transfigured lower body across the desk in an attempt to escape and dying anyway because part of its lungs were turned into wood, or an imperfectly Transfigured hedgehog having to endure humans putting more and more pins inside it while it’s unable to even scream. That sounds like a branch of Dark Arts. How is Animal Transfiguration not a banned subject? Oh wait, I know: It’s Okay Because A Gryffindor Does It.
- Herbology plants like the Mandrakes seem sentient and able to feel pain, but 2nd year students (notably Neville) are expected to chop up baby-looking plants while they’re still alive and screaming
- Snape isn’t the only one using Trevor for magic training: Flitwick demonstrates the Levitation spell on Trevor, and Harry practises Accio on it:
- Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they’d seen him make Neville’s toad zoom around the classroom.
- Harry and Hermione left in a hurry before the noise attracted Filch, and went back to the Gryffindor common room, which was now mercifully empty. At two o’clock in the morning, Harry stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects: books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones, and Neville’s toad, Trevor. Only in the last hour had Harry really got the hang of the Summoning Charm.
- Neville, I don’t think that carrying your toad in a pocket all day is safe, let alone comfortable. What if it jumped into a boiling cauldron during Potions class, what if it snatched and ate a toxic ingredient? Do you think it feels nice to be kept shut in a pocket all day, all year long? Just because a toad is a pocket pet does not mean it’s got to be literal, that the toad doesn’t deserve to live in a terrarium or even have a trip outside from time to time. Also this quote: “In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, […] maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.” I don’t think it’s healthy or respectful for the animal at all. Trevor wants to escape so badly, for years. Yes, Neville probably needs an object to soothe him or even a comfort animal, but Trevor isn’t it and it’s time to let the toad live more comfortably.
- You’d think Neville loved his toad a lot but when it gets lost among the other toads in the Lake, he doesn’t use Accio to retrieve it, or even check up on it last we know. You know, in case a predator makes a meal of his childhood pet. I know it’s supposed to signal his growth into a strong man, but I suspect Trevor also reminded Neville of why his great-uncle Algie had given it to him: because he didn’t turn up Muggle, which he discovered after severely traumatising him and almost getting him killed several times during his early childhood. Here’s Pottermore, on Toads: “Trevor, Neville’s toad, had nothing to commend him except a propensity for getting lost, and when he finally slipped off to join his brethren in the Hogwarts lake, both owner and pet felt a sense of relief.” Maybe Neville felt a sense of relief when Trevor finally got away because before that, he was clutching on Trevor so as not to disappoint his family for losing it (rather than clutching it for comfort). They were not as loving towards each other as the fandom pretends. Still, it’s a sad goodbye for our dear drama toad.
- The Weasleys use an old, exhausted, body-wrecked owl to deliver letters over long distances, not considering to adopt a new owl and giving the old one a well-deserved rest.
They’re rich enough to buy 5 sets of 7 of Lockhart’s books, have a trip to Egypt, buy Percy his own pet and Harry a set of fancy dress robes, I’m sure they could have managed to get a cheap owl if not a free one. Their reactions to their old owl resting or hurting itself range between amusement, indifference, disgust or despise:
- “Who’s Errol?”
“Our owl. He’s ancient. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d collapsed on a delivery. […]”
- He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray feather duster — at least, that was what Harry thought it was, until he saw that it was breathing.
“Errol!” said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. “Finally— he’s got Hermione’s answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys.”
He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron lay him on the draining board instead, muttering, “Pathetic.”
- “[…] I’ve been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off.”
- A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville’s head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione’s jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.
“Errol!” said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.
“Oh, no —” Ron gasped.
“It’s all right, he’s still alive,” said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.
“It’s not that — it’s that.” Ron was pointing at the red envelope
- Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Harry’s bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs. Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once — his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family.
- Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey.
At some point during Goblet of Fire, Errol must have kicked off, because barely some months after that, Harry receives a letter from Arthur Weasley delivered by a barn owl. Either he borrowed an owl or he adopted a new one – either way, there was no need to have what Rowling describes in Pottermore as the “aged, long-suffering and overworked” owl deliver any more mail. Yes, this would be considered animal abuse in our world.
- Ron uses his pet rat as a test subject for his first spell
- Fred and George feed an explosive to a salamander for fun:
The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had “rescued” the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smoldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.
Harry was at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander’s mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from Harry’s mind.
- Per the Fantastic Beasts book, Fred and George used Ron’s Puffskein as a Bludger, beating it to death:
I had one of them once / what happened to it? / Fred used it for Bludger practice [Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them]
- Garden gnomes are thrown over the fence as entertainment.
Ron held it at arm’s length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.
“This is what you have to do,” he said. He raised the gnome above his head (“Gerroff me!”) and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face, Ron added, “It doesn’t hurt them —you’ve just got to make them really dizzy so they can’t find their way back to the gnome holes.”
He let go of the gnome’s ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.
“Pitiful,” said Fred. “I bet I can get mine beyond that stump.”
Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry’s finger and he had a hard job shaking it off — until —
“Wow, Harry — that must’ve been fifty feet…”
The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.
Surely there are more humane ways to remove the gnomes? And sorry, but allow me to remain sceptical over that teaching that swinging them till it makes them dizzy then throwing them away doesn’t hurt them. After all, the same used to go with the saying that taking a cat by the scruff of its neck and shaking it doesn’t hurt it, nor does thrusting a dog’s head into its own piss or pulling on its collar till it chokes… Even nowadays there’s still this stupid rhetoric that you must show that you’re “the alpha” towards the dog (a human-invented concept that has little relevance in dog behaviour), spread by extremely popular videos that advise removing their food bowls in a pointless (but stressful) display of power, locking them in a cage if they disobey, or even using shock and choke collars with spikes on the inside. Oh, it doesn’t hurt the dog at all! It certainly doesn’t induce behavioural problems ranging from human-phobia to anxiety to PTSD, depression, excessive resource protection and random aggressivity… (And people have a fit over a fictional toad?)
As for not feeling sorry for the gnomes… I mean, a gnome bit Harry’s finger? I think a cat too would want to bite you if you took it by the legs, swung it around like a lasso and threw it as far away as you could in a competition. Lots of animals for that matter would bite you out of fear, even if you’re just trying to save them. That doesn’t mean you mustn’t be patient with them. Plus gnomes seem to be actually intelligent beings, so that’s definitely off-putting.
Either we consider that the Weasleys (and wizards in general, since the same method is advised in the Fantastic Beasts book) have normalised a form of creature abuse, or this is not creature abuse in HP and in that case, I have difficulties believing that feeding a potion to a magical toad is to be considered abusive either.
- Live fairies are used as decorations for the Christmas tree in OotP:
The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius’s family tree from view; and even the stuffed elf heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.
- The next year, a gnome is forced into a horrible costume and set up as the Christmas tree angel:
Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.
No, just because a garden gnome bit you doesn’t mean you get the right to treat it like that, just as you wouldn’t with any other animal. Except mosquitoes I guess…
- Female dragons and their eggs are used for wizard entertainment
- Dragons like the Ironbelly are tortured, mutilated, traumatised and used as watch dogs in the deepest vaults of Gringotts
- Hagrid, the creature-lover, mistreats almost all of the creatures he’s supposed to take care of, and destroys the Forest’s ecosystem.
- Keeps animals in his pockets but then sleeps with his coat on (check)
- Throws an owl in the storm
- Locks Fluffy in a tight room all year long to guard a Stone (reminiscent of the Ironbelly) (you’d wonder where the poor beast could defecate)
- Intended to raise a dragon in a tight wooden hut for his own pleasure (Ron gets bitten and his wound gets infected, and Hagrid blames Ron; this is like a pit-bull owner blaming the kid who got his face mauled rather than acknowledge their dog is not fit to be around children and they’ve been irresponsible)
- Sends Fang in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, knowing it is easily scared, that it wouldn’t know how to defend children (and probably himself), and that a unicorn-slaying monster is on the loose
- Locked an Acromantula for months in a tight box and intended to raise it like that before it thankfully escaped (and ruined the Forest’s ecosystem, how were the centaurs on nice terms with Hagrid?),
- Because he is so irresponsible in Care of Magical Creatures, a student is injured in the very first class and Buckbeak is immediately scheduled for euthanasia (nice job Hagrid) (as a teacher he should have been aware that kids are idiots and are bound to disobey, Hippogriffs should only be introduced to 5th year or NEWT-level students)
- Illegally bred hybrid horrors (Blast-Ended Skrewts): cannibalistic
This, ladies and gentlemen, is a pattern of an animal lover/abuser. But as always: It’s Okay If A Gryffindor Does It.
- For that matter, Hagrid openly expresses how much he’d love to introduce Filch’s pet cat Mrs. Norris to his dog Fang:
‘An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.’
Even if that’s true, so what? She’s just a cat, for fuck’s sake. She’s not even hurting you.
- Snape was taught by McGonagall who as we just saw largely uses animals for her Transfiguration classes (a skill that’s evaluated in the OWLs exam), by Slughorn who uses House Elves to test his drinks for poison, and his ex-master Voldemort also used a House Elf to test his poisons. At least a magical toad is more mindless (Trevor certainly seemed pretty indifferent to Snape’s handling).
- House-Elves as slaves. Even Sirius assaults his own, and doesn’t consider him on the same level as humans. Dumbledore associates Sirius with those who reduced House Elves to slavery and compares Kreacher’s suffering under Sirius to Dobby’s under the Malfoys:
- “I warned Sirius when we adopted twelve Grimmauld Place as our headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think that Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human’s —”
- “Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby’s. He was forced to do Sirius’s bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher’s faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher’s lot easier —”
- “Sirius did not hate Kreacher,” said Dumbledore. “He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike… The fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward.”
It is not surprising, considering how far creature/animal abuse is casually performed in the books by the nice guys, that Harry sees nothing wrong in Snape using a toad as a test subject for a potion per say, nor does anyone else in the class. It’s kindergarten level compared to, say, Transfiguration class, not to mention Trevor was neither harmed nor in danger, which is why the Trevor event lies at that.
2. Neville’s Boggart is Snape
Neville fears Snape, true, and that sucks. But before you get on your high horses and claim how awful it is that “Neville’s worst fear was Snape instead of Bellatrix”, here are several points to consider.
Neville’s fear of Snape is neither overwhelming nor traumatising. Neville’s fear is on par with Ron’s fear of spiders, Dean’s fear of hands, etc. I’d say it’s even milder than those too.
If Snape had been abusive, other students would not have found this funny, and Neville would not have smiled. If the fear had been overwhelming, Neville would not have defeated the boggart on his first try.
Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, “Professor Snape.”
Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically.
Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.
“Professor Snape… hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?”
“Er — yes,” said Neville nervously. “But — I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”
Neville is a bad student academically speaking. His wand is his father’s, which adds to his incompetence. The fact that Neville defeated his Boggart on the first try and on the second try despite his difficulties and the wand handicap is a testament of how mild his “fear of Snape” was. When he announces his Boggart might be Snape, he is smiling. He never breaks down in tears or anything. He’s laughing when confronting his Snape Boggart a second time. Why? Because Snape is a trivial fear.
Neville seems more scared of admitting he fears Snape than of Snape himself. He does not want to confront his grandmother either, probably because, like Snape, she makes him feel inadequate, which is what really scares him. But she should have loved Neville unconditionally and not compared him to his parents, and Snape is his teacher, whose job it is to let him know when he is doing poorly.
Compare with:
- Molly Weasley who fails to beat her boggart despite her children’s help, in OOTP, because there’s nothing trivial about her fear of losing her husband or her children in war;
- Harry, whose worst fear is a Dementor; he fainted several times in his Boggart’s presence too, despite Lupin’s help;
- Hermione, whose Boggart is McGonagall; she breaks down in tears when confronted with her, failing to cast her Boggart away despite being a prodigious student who, for instance, is the first to master non-verbal casting, Wingardium Leviosa, or the hedgehog-to-pincushion spell.
Snape is listed among the meaningless boggarts the kids defeated with ease:
“Did you see me take that banshee?” shouted Seamus.
“And the hand!” said Dean, waving his own around.
“And Snape in that hat!”
“And my mummy!” [pun]
Why, you will ask, is Neville’s Boggart, ie his “worst fear”, Professor Snape instead of Bellatrix?
This is the textbook definition of a Boggart:
Hermione put up her hand.
“It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.”
Whatever the Boggart turns into is not necessarily what you fear the most… it is what it thinks will “frighten” you the most. PoA already introduces a creature that actually makes you relive your worst moments – Dementors. Introducing two creatures that do essentially the same thing is redundant.
The Boggart decides to turn into Snape because Neville said aloud that he thinks his Boggart might be him. If the Boggart read Neville’s mind, it would see that his most pressing worry at the moment was Snape, and Snape’s on his mind because this lesson immediately follows the toad scene and the Potions Master telling Lupin that he must be careful with Neville because the boy has a tendency to fail spectacularly and to cheat in class.
The Boggart does not turn into Bellatrix because – assuming Neville even remembers her – she is not his main concern, as she is imprisoned in Azkaban and she cannot harm him. Consider that Ron’s Boggart is a spider, when it could have been his own sister or his best friends on the verge of death; but right now, they are not in such imminent danger, so why fear it? Additionally, Lupin, an Order member, does not expect Neville’s Boggart to turn up as Bellatrix (even though he should have operated more carefully).
Snape being a student’s Boggart does not classify him as a bad teacher on the get-go either, and is not evidence in itself of abuse. Hermione’s Boggart is McGonagall, when it could have been the Basilisk or the Mountain Troll that nearly killed her as a first year. So either McGonagall is a child abuser in your books, or you agree that just because a child’s Boggart is a teacher doesn’t mean they’re abusive.
As a sidenote for those who want to apply double standards in their logic: You might say that Hermione’s fear was just failing her exams, not McGonagall herself, but there’s a reason why McGonagall is the one representing that fear, and not Snape, or a simple letter with failing grades. It is absurd to expect Neville’s Boggart to be Bellatrix but not Hermione’s to be the Basilisk or the Mountain Troll, and then to get incensed when Neville’s Boggart turns up to be Snape but remain unfazed that Hermione’s is McGonagall. Especially considering that Neville defeated the Snape-Boggart with surprising ease, while Hermione has a complete meltdown and fails. It is also absurd to cast Snape as a worse abuser to Neville than Bellatrix (who tortured his parents to insanity), yet never openly admit that by this logic McGonagall is worse than the two gigantic monsters that nearly ended her student’s life. And I must say, given what kinds of punishments McGonagall served Hermione, I think it is quite reasonable for her to fear her Head of House more than an idiot Troll or a dead snake.
Second sidenote: Neville mentioning that he does not want his Boggart to turn into his grandmother Augusta either is to be re-considered with the context of Neville’s horrible upbringing. As Whitehound explains:
[Snape] presumably doesn’t know that Neville’s family used to put him in actual danger of death in an attempt to squeeze more magic out of him. This is probably why Snape is Neville’s Boggart – not because Snape is so dreadful that he is the main fear-trigger to a boy whose parents were tortured into insanity, but because in Neville’s experience if you’re useless at magic people try to kill you, and your family would rather see you dead than a Squib – so Snape’s criticism represents threat-of-death and rejection-by-family.
In other words, a PTSD-worthy emotional flashback. And since Snape doesn’t know how Neville’s family treated him, he wouldn’t be aware that Neville’s reaction was due to severe trauma from an early age rather than him being upset at the slightest class instruction.
An out-of-universe explanation for Neville’s fear of Snape is that his parents’ story, just like the Cruciatus curse, did not exist at the time of writing the Boggart scene. You’d think Draco would tease Neville about it, if it had existed by PoA.
This passage is from GoF, after the lesson about Unforgivables:
Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.
“Neville?” Hermione said gently.
Neville looked around.
“Oh hello,” he said, his voice much higher than usual. “Interesting lesson, wasn’t it? I wonder what’s for dinner, I’m — I’m starving, aren’t you?”
“Neville, are you all right?” said Hermione.
“Oh yes, I’m fine,” Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. “Very interesting dinner — I mean lesson — what’s for eating?”
Here is Neville again, later in the book, clearly thinking about his parents:
“What was that?” said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. “Sounded like a banshee… Maybe you’ve got to get past one of those next, Harry!”
“It was someone being tortured!” said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. “You’re going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!”
Compare that to Neville smiling sheepishly the previous year when he said his Boggart might be his Potions teacher, and laughing when confronting it.
Notice that Seamus suggests the thing Harry will have to confront is a banshee – which is Seamus’ own Boggart. That Neville intervenes to say it’s likely the Cruciatus Curse instead is an easy hint for the reader that (thanks to fake Moody) Neville’s Boggart has shifted from Snape to the Cruciatus Curse ; that his most pressing fear on his mind is not a trivial fear like his teacher anymore, but the arguably most horrible of the Unforgivables, something actually tragic because it’s the root of Neville’s « orphaning ». (Meanwhile, Harry’s Boggart never changes, because it’s already an « adult » fear.)
If anything, it was lucky for Neville that his Boggart turned into Snape rather than Bellatrix or his parents shrieking under Crucio, because that would have traumatised him and the rest of the class, and he likely wouldn’t have been able to defeat his Boggart. (It would also have shown that Lupin took enormous risks with the surprise Boggart lesson and that it’s mainly through luck if all students magically come out unscathed.)
The Boggart scene (just like the Dementor scenes) shows that Harry is unlike the rest of his classmates because his fears are serious. It provides comic relief, because the big meanie is in drag. It’s the beginning of Neville’s arc from someone who fears Snape in Y3 to someone who leads DA in Y7 and fears nothing. It hints at the Snape-Marauders relationship. It’s used to make Snape’s behaviour in the werewolf lesson seem petty and vindictive, to obfuscate the fact that it actually takes place right after Sirius infiltrates the castle for the first time, which is what’s actually bothering him.
Conclusion: Neville’s Boggart is not (and was never meant to be) evidence that he was traumatised by Snape. And on the contrary, Neville’s ease at defeating the Boggart proves that Snape is a trivial thing to worry about.
3. “I see no difference”
The fuller picture:
“And what is all this noise about?” said a soft, deadly voice.
Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, “Explain.”
“Potter attacked me, sir —”
“We attacked each other at the same time!” Harry shouted.
“— and he hit Goyle — look —”
Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.
“Hospital wing, Goyle,” Snape said calmly.
“Malfoy got Hermione!” Ron said. “Look!”
He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth — she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape’s back.
Snape looked coldly [as opposed to his usual smirk/smile, when he enjoys whatever he’s saying. Also, what’s the difference between being “calm” and being “cold”? Harry is awful at reading people, and at reading Snape in particular] at Hermione, then said, “I see no difference.”
Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears.
As we saw from other teachers:
- Flitwick’s comment on comparing Seamus with a baboon
- Hagrid on Malfoy and furret
Snape is demanding an explanation from Malfoy, not the Trio. Harry admits that both of them attacked each other. You’d think Snape would never miss an opportunity to punish Harry, who attacked his favourite, right? Wrong. He sends Goyle to the hospital wing calmly, despite Goyle being in pretty bad shape.
He wasn’t even necessarily thinking of her teeth. He might have meant “ISND between what Malfoy did to you, and what Potter did to Goyle”, “ISND between what I told Goyle to do, and what you should do”. We know he can insult her outright when he wants to, and nothing stopped JKR from writing “your teeth look the same as yesterday.”
Let’s say that Snape truly meant to crack a joke at Hermione’s teeth.
Hermione gets over this comment instantly. She even defends Snape later in the same book. In fact, she constantly defends him, up until he kills Dumbledore, and even a bit after that.
To put in perspective, in GOF, the Dark Mark is already growing darker and Voldemort is coming back. Snape will soon have to resume his spying role. He cannot act like he otherwise would have, which is to punish everyone, including the Death Eaters’ children – he is downplaying the whole thing to avoid punishing anyone.
It is inappropriate, it’s true, and it could be devastating for a more vulnerable student.
Did he absolutely have to mock Hermione? No. Does he ever do that in any other context? No. It was an easy way to demonstrate his hatred of Harry and supposed disdain for his Muggle-born friend, when he needed to reinforce that image of himself in preparation for his reentry in Voldemort’s ranks.
Some resentment is also understandable: Hermione had set Snape on fire, stolen from him, and slammed him against a wall, knocking him unconscious. That she gets away with a mean-spirited comment indicates that he doesn’t hate her. Maybe he was thinking about how, just a few chapters previously, McGonagall had watched Moody torture Draco, and instead of asking Draco if he was alright and escorting him to the Hospital Wing, while berating Moody a bit more than she actually does in the book, she had allowed Moody to drag him away for more punishment and humiliation, meaning it was she who had set the precedent that students in obvious distress can be dismissed.
One last thing I wanted to debunk about this drama is the saying that Snape made Hermione so ashamed of her teeth that she had them “surgically”/magically altered. That’s patently false. Hermione already wanted to correct her front teeth with magic – her dentist parents were preventing her and planning to have her wear brackets.
4. “Insufferable know-it-all”
Calls Hermione an insufferable-know-it-all (which she was), following several more civilised attempts to shut her up. (expand on this)
“As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —”
“Please, sir, we’ve done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows,” said Hermione quickly, “and we’re just about to start —”
“Be quiet,” said Snape coldly. “I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organization.”
« He’s the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had,” said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.
“[…] Today we shall discuss —” Harry watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn’t covered. “— werewolves,” said Snape.
“But, sir,” said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, “we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start Hinkypunks —”
“Miss Granger,” said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. […] »
And he’s right. I don’t know if you can realise how disrespectful Hermione’s comment is. Not only is she talking out of turn for the second time in a row, but she’s criticising his choice of lessons just because it doesn’t follow the order of chapters in the book. What the actual fuck Hermione? You’re the Defense teacher now? You wanna give out a lesson, assign essays and correct them, too? The chapters seem to be pretty independent from each other, given their subjects. Chill, Hermione.
[…] “Anyone?” Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between —”
“We told you,” said Parvati suddenly, “we haven’t got as far as werewolves yet, we’re still on–”
“Silence!” snarled Snape. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…”
“Please, sir,” said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf —”
“That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” said Snape coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.”
You know what’s funny? Hermione talked out of turn three times, but Snape seems to have forgotten the first time already, because he only counts two. Maybe he’s so used to Hermione talking out of turn that he easily loses count, or maybe he didn’t mind the second one because at least there, she wasn’t outright interrupting him.
And you know what’s even funnier? Students talked out of turn a total of 6 times in under two minutes of Defense class: 3 times by Hermione, 1 by Dean Thomas, 1 by Parvarti Patil, and 1 if we count Harry coming in late and refusing to sit down until Snape orders him so a third time. And even then, Snape takes care to answer his questions. Other, less patient teachers would have told Harry to get out and assigned him detention for disobeying orders and missing class.
“This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down.”
But Harry didn’t move.
“Where’s Professor Lupin?” he said.
“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” said Snape with a twisted smile. “I believe I told you to sit down?”
But Harry stayed where he was.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Snape’s black eyes glittered.
“Nothing life-threatening,” he said, looking as though he wished it were. “Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty.”
Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.
[///]
Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, “You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don’t want to be told?”
And I will explain why, Mister Weasley.
Snape wanted an answer from the class, which happens to consist of more students than Miss Hermione Granger alone. Snape knows that Hermione knows the answer–she practically knows everything already–so he ignores her. It would be pretty pointless to have her answer every time, which is why he chooses not to. And he’s completely in the right for that.
To have Hermione answer all questions by virtue of her knowing all their answers is as useful as giving out all answers without making the rest of the class think, without checking if they know the subject. It’s a waste of time.
I understand Hermione’s perspective: she thought that Snape would tell Dumbledore how ignorant she was along with the class. In other words, she either took Snape and Dumbledore for a bunch of idiots, or she was so blinded by her need for validation that, just in case, she would give out the answer even if it was evident she was going against Snape’s order to remain silent. This is not normal behaviour from a student.
Notice, in PS:
“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
Hermione doesn’t just raise her hand: she stands up. And Snape doesn’t even remove points for it. (He dismisses it as if it were a mere annoyance?) Now tell me, how would your teacher and the class react if they saw you standing up, hand raised, just to answer a question when the teacher obviously doesn’t want you to spoil the answer?
While Snape’s behaviour in our previous examples was callous and uncalled for, in this scene, he is completely justified. But he made Hermione cry! True, because Hermione was disrupting the class. She’s upset because she rarely gets reprimanded in class, she’s overly anxious about her academic performances, and was probably not punished previously for intervening without a teacher allowing her, due to her being quite the prodigy.
She rarely loses points too, and to lose points because she was being overzealous, it stings.
Still, her behavior was not appropriate. Snape warned her, twice, without punishing her, and she wouldn’t listen. It’s surprising too, because it was evident that Snape was getting really upset [« Silence!« ].
This is why, three years later:
“. . . you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells.
What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?”
Hermione’s hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, “Very
well — Miss Granger?”
“Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform,” said Hermione, “which gives you a split-second advantage.”
It’s true that Snape could have made without the know-it-all part, but the text heavily suggests that Hermione is less upset over being called a know-it-all, and more about having lost points for trying to give the right answer, as she doesn’t seem to care that everyone calls her a know-it-all, not even Ron, who calls her that « twice a week ». (On my part, I think Snape’s remark is fair: she is being an insufferable know-it-all.)
In fact, Hermione wouldn’t have reacted that badly (and wouldn’t have been so forceful with her answers) if she hadn’t been under the extreme stress caused by her assisting all of Hogwarts’ 12 OWL subject classes with the help of a Time-Turner… without even thinking to use it to gain more sleep or time to do her homework. Remember, earlier in the year, during our infamous Trevor drama, Snape berates Hermione for trying to « show off » and later removes five points for helping Neville, but Hermione doesn’t break down in tears or anything. She does blush in embarrassment, but she doesn’t care that Snape calls her a show-off or removes points because of her. Something changed: she’s approaching her burnout of the year.
Hermione isn’t the only one on edge. As Harry points out, Snape was more cranky and easy to upset than usual:
“Snape’s never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job,” Harry said to Hermione. “Why’s he got it in for Lupin? D’you think this is all because of the Boggart?”
“I don’t know,” said Hermione pensively. “But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…”
To note: Sirius Black had just broken into the school, Dumbledore gaslit Snape, who was then on edge and convinced Lupin is the one who allowed Black to break in… which isn’t so far off the truth.
Hermione is quick to take Snape’s defense after the Defense class:
“D’you know what that —” (he called Snape something that made Hermione say “Ron!”) “— is making me do? I’ve got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!” He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. “Why couldn’t Black have hidden in Snape’s office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!”
Chill the fuck out Ron.
It’s very obvious that fans obsess over this excerpt because it’s about Hermione, a fan favourite, and Snape, another fan favourite and an object of obsession for haters. It’s obvious that if it weren’t about them, the event would have been forgotten. Remove Snape from the equation, put McGonagall in his place, and suddenly no one remembers that Hermione was hurt by her too.
5. Lost it after he caught Harry looking into his Pensieve
“Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?”
But whether James really did take off Snape’s pants, Harry never found out. A hand had closed tight over his upper arm, closed with a pincerlike grip.
Wincing, Harry looked around to see who had hold of him, and saw, with a thrill of horror, a fully grown, adult-sized Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.
“Having fun?”
Harry felt himself rising into the air. The summer’s day evaporated around him, he was floating upward through icy blackness, Snape’s hand still tight
upon his upper arm. Then, with a swooping feeling as though he had turned head over heels in midair, his feet hit the stone floor of Snape’s dungeon, and
he was standing again beside the Pensieve on Snape’s desk in the shadowy, present-day Potions master’s study.
“So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb. “So . . . been enjoying yourself, Potter?”
“N-no . . .” said Harry, trying to free his arm.
It was scary: Snape’s lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.
“Amusing man, your father, wasn’t he?” said Snape, shaking Harry so hard that his glasses slipped down his nose.
“I — didn’t —”
Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard onto the dungeon floor.
“You will not tell anybody what you saw!” Snape bellowed.
“No,” said Harry, getting to his feet as far from Snape as he could. “No, of course I w —”
“Get out, get out, I don’t want to see you in this office ever again!”
And as Harry hurtled toward the door, a jar of dead cockroaches exploded over his head. He wrenched the door open and flew away up the corridor,
stopping only when he had put three floors between himself and Snape. There he leaned against the wall, panting, and rubbing his bruised arm.
Pulling Harry out of the Pensieve was obviously justified – Harry not only violated his privacy, humiliated him and made him relive his worst memory, he also risked showing Voldemort classified memories. But even there, Snape looks as if he’s restraining himself, pushing Harry away and telling him to get out, because he might actually lose it if the boy stays in his proximity and he doesn’t want to. I believe that if he had wanted the jar to hit Harry, it would have, and he missed on purpose.
The OotP book is quick to cast Snape’s reaction as legitimate, with Dumbledore arguing that it is his own fault if the Occlumency lessons ended in disaster, since despite all the evidence to the contrary, he assumed Snape could get over the trauma inflicted by Harry’s father:
« I trust Severus Snape,” said Dumbledore simply. “But I forgot — another old man’s mistake — that some wounds run too deep for the healing.
Snape’s sudden, violent reaction serves as a counterpoint? for Harry’s shock upon viewing his teacher’s worst memory. What Harry saw there was so horrendous that he just couldn’t bring himself to watch the scene a second time. (notice that Harry sympathizes with the Prince so strongly that he refers to him as Severus, like a friend.)
If Harry gets a little traumatized when watching SWM, to the point he is unconcerned that his teacher is throwing jars at him, then imagine what Snape must be going through. I’m pretty sure that reliving his worst trauma with the carbon-copy of James Porker witnessing everything triggered some sort of panic attack… and PTSD can be expressed through anger and violence. [Illustrate with a mental health source]
How do you think Harry would react if Draco Malfoy peered into his Pensieve and saw Dudley and his gang Harry-hunting?
(Sidenote: the French audiobook gives an idea of Snape’s emotional distress, you might want to listen to it.)
Source for fight reaction/link anxiety-aggression
A teacher manhandling students is bad, but it isn’t the point of this scene. To ignore the context to make Snape out to be a child-beating teacher is not only cheap but stupid. It also opens the [opportunity?] to cast the same type of judgement on Sirius, who as we remember, strangled 13 yo Harry in PoA, and I’m sure you’d see it as pretty absurd to make Sirius out to be a child-beater considering the context of that one time.
6. Lashed out at Harry after killing Dumbledore
The quote:
“DON’T — ” screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them — ”CALL ME COWARD!”
And he slashed at the air: Harry felt a white-hot, whiplike something hit him across the face and was slammed backward into the ground. Spots of light burst in front of his eyes and for a moment all the breath seemed to have gone from his body, then he heard a rush of wings above him and something enormous obscured the stars. Buckbeak had flown at Snape, who staggered backward as the razor-sharp claws slashed at him. As Harry raised himself into a sitting position, his head still swimming from its last contact with the ground, he saw Snape running as hard as he could, the enormous beast flapping behind him and screeching as Harry had never heard him screech —
OMG! Snape gave Harry a magical slap! How could a teacher who…
- Just had to kill Dumbledore off (his mentor and the only one who fully trusted him), breaking his soul in the process
- Went into deep cover, being known as a cowardly traitor and a Death Eater murderer, alienating his friends and colleagues on the Light side
- Was blocking off a 16 yo Harry’s relentless attempts to hurt, torture and kill him, as well as an attempt at Levicorpus, which triggered a knee-jerk trauma response due to that spell having been used by James and Sirius in his Worst Memory to sexually assault him;
- Was trying to protect Draco, Hagrid and Harry, and flee in the middle of a battlefield during a surprise terrorist attack
- Was taunted by Harry to attack him and was called a coward a first time, heard Harry howling in pain because someone was Crucio’ing him and had to intervene to make it stop, and then heard Harry say “kill me, just like you killed him, you coward”
- While very aware that one day he would have to literally send Harry to his death after all these years of hoping to have him survive the Dark Lord, all for naught
– how could Snape have snapped and given Harry a magical slap for calling him a coward one too many times and asking his teacher to just kill him right then and there!?
Seriously. People are genuinely calling Snape an abuser of a teacher for that. This is insane and stupid.
As a reminder, just a minute ago, Snape was risking his cover and somewhat calling a bluff on the Death Eaters to protect Harry from being Crucio’ed:
But before he could finish this jinx, excruciating pain hit Harry; he keeled over in the grass. Someone was screaming, he would surely die of this agony, Snape was going to torture him to death or madness —
“No!” roared Snape’s voice and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his wand and panting; somewhere overhead Snape was shouting, “Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord — we are to leave him! Go! Go!”
“Stop torturing him immediately, leave him alone and go away!”
Does this sound like a man who enjoys physically assaulting children?
Also, the fact he let Buckbeak tear at him before running away suggests that Snape immediately regretted magic-slapping Harry and that he accepted being hurt in turn as some sort of astral punishment. So you guess if that was Snape being an abusive teacher or Snape as a spy being at the end of the rope.
Conclusion: These two last scenes are not about a teacher abusing his student. It is about a man being pushed to the limits of what a human being can endure.
Here is Snape in similar levels of distress, but miraculously remaining in control. We talked about that in The Shrieking Shack Turnabout, remember?
Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.
« Get out of the way, Potter, you’re in enough trouble already, » snarled Snape. « If I hadn’t been here to save your skin – […]
« Get out of the way, Potter. »
« YOU’RE PATHETIC! » Harry yelled. « JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T EVEN LISTEN — »
« SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT! » Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. « Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER! »
Harry made up his mind in a split second. Before Snape could take even one step toward him, he had raised his wand.
« Expelliarmus! » he yelled — except that his wasn’t the only voice that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.
Like in HBP, where Snape kept deflecting Harry’s curses until he could not put up with his shit any longer, Snape in PoA asks Harry three times to move aside, warns him that if he doesn’t then he will make him, and yet he asks another time. This costs him a thrice-powered Expelliarmus to the face and a concussion with loss of consciousness and cerebral haemorrhage, for which he covers his students. « Physically abusive teacher » – my ass!
« Nasty cut you’ve got there…. Black’s work, I suppose? »
« As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley, and Granger, Minister…. »
« No! »
« Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren’t responsible for their actions. […]”
Here’s what Whitehound says about it:
Pause for a moment and consider what McGonagall would do to three Slytherins who deliberately injured several classmates, robbed her of dangerous substances, threw her into a wall and then left her unconscious and bleeding for the best part of an hour. Yet, the sum total of Snape’s revenge is that he becomes a little more obstructive towards Harry, and possibly makes one catty remark about Hermione’s teeth, although his meaning in that scene is ambiguous. This is a bit childish, but hardly the action of a vengeful brute.
Honestly, if you put the OotP and HBP scenes against Snape to argue that he’s « a teacher who physically abuses his students », you’re not just purposefully misinterpreting the books to randomly throw severe accusations for shock value and cheap brownie points, you must have a severe lack of empathy. Even I don’t blame Sirius that much for strangling Harry in the Shack and jumping on Ron’s broken leg, or Harry for having a meltdown in Dumbledore’s office and becoming so unstable in DH that Hermione fears he’ll hurt her. (“Harry?” Hermione looked frightened that he might curse her with her own wand. Her face streaked with tears, she crouched down beside him, two cups of tea trembling in her hands and something bulky under her arm.)
And in case you only watched the movies: Snape never whacks Ron with a book in OotP and never thrusts Ron and Harry’s heads near the table in GoF. Not that this would make much of a difference: neither student is hurt, and those scenes were provided for comic relief. Especially the OotP Ron-whacking one: the Patil sisters and Neville are hiding a smile while Ron is looking confused. Even Harry is smiling when Ron gets whacked by Snape in GoF.
Honourable mentions
- The first Potions lesson: bullies Harry; calls Neville an idiot and then accuses Harry of not helping Neville because he wanted to look good. Absurd.
- Bullies Neville after the Boggart fiasco.
Though Whitehound remarks:
Harry feels that Snape becomes even more harsh in his attitude to Neville, after the Boggart scene. On the one hand, this seems cruel when he has just learned how afraid of him Neville is. On the other hand, it has just been demonstrated that Neville can perform well in class with sufficient incentive, so Snape may now feel (wrongly but understandably) that Neville’s failures in his class are due to laziness, or that the best way to motivate Neville is to scare him [like the Boggart did], or that if he pushes him hard enough he’ll be able to make him perform. And he’s actually right about that last one – so far as we know he does eventually manage to bully Neville into an « Acceptable » OWL, although with a great deal of stress on both sides which could have been avoided if he’d coaxed instead of hectored.
I don’t entirely agree with this reasoning but she’s got a point.
- (CoS and PoA remarks about Neville being a bad student: yes, Lupin should be informed, and yes, Neville can be a danger to others, but there are more professional and nicer ways to say it)
- Denies Harry entry to Dumbledore’s office even though Harry informed him Crouch Sr wanted to see the Headmaster. Dickish and unprofessional.
- Doesn’t punish the Slytherin who hexed Alicia Spinnet before the big Quidditch game.
(Sidenote: McG before that: “I’ve become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don’t want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time [from the lack of homework] to practise, won’t you?”)
- In the first Occlumency lesson, calls Harry a lamentable potion maker (irrelevant and uncalled for), as well as implicitly calling him stupid: “The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter… or at least, most minds are.”
Why should Harry know how Legilimency works? He’s never heard of it.
(An important factor however is that Snape is now aware that Voldemort might be spying on the lesson through Harry’s eyes. That and Harry is being super annoying, constantly trying to talk over his teacher and saying Voldemort’s name, which by the way may trigger pain in Snape’s Dark Mark.)
(Sidenote: We don’t factor the Occlumency lessons as a whole because while the movie compares Snape to a torturer who takes every opportunity to insult Harry, especially when he fails or asks for a pause, then cancels the lessons when Harry actually does what is expected of him, book Snape is far more civil, pedagogic, somewhat compliments Harry when he uses « Potato », purposely avoids recent traumatic memories when it becomes evident it upsets his student, does not say a word about all the humiliation he sees in Harry’s head, and only cancels the lessons when Harry looks into Snape’s Pensieve and risks blowing his spy cover. Snape was a pretty good Occlumency teacher, Harry failed for other reasons.)
- Knocks Harry’s potion over the desk, breaking the jar and giving him a T. Snape was angry after Harry watched his Worst Memory. Still, absolute dickhead.
- When escorting Harry from the train to the school in HBP, he calls Tonk’s Patronus weak, and needles Harry. He accuses Harry of only wanting attention like at the start of 2nd year: “I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?” Then he says: “No cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I’m sure.” This is the same passage where we see Snape giving out an empty punishment, “removing points” when there are no points to remove, but still. Make up your mind, Snape.
7. Assigned Neville detention that involves disembowelling horned toads.
Students already handle animal parts in class, so that’s not out of the ordinary, and detention is not supposed to be pleasant anyway. Some fans complain that Snape is basically having Neville disembowel toads like Trevor to traumatise him, except that horned toads are actually not toads: they’re lizards. Which is why they’re also called horned lizards. They don’t even look like toads that much, they’re already dead, and they’re waaay spikier and tinier than a toad like Trevor.
What isn’t normal is that Neville returned from that detention in what Harry describes as « a state of nervous collapse ». What isn’t normal either is that Snape gave Neville detention at all. This is one of the two detentions Snape ever gave him: one for having melted his sixth cauldron, the other for attempting to steal the Sword of Gryffindor with Ginny and Luna – and we know that last one was rather a reward and a way out from the Carrows’ own idea of discipline.
Harry’s sarcasm is heard in the narrative, arguing that Professor Snape « seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer », but even Harry is quick to admit the true reason why Snape is in « such a foul mood »:
“Yeah,” said Harry. “Moody.”
Snape was on edge because of Mad-Eye Moody, a slightly mental Dark Wizard-hunting Auror who, earlier in the year, assaulted Draco and threatened his Head of House:
“Another old friend,” growled Moody. “I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… Come on, you…” And he seized Malfoy’s upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.
Moody believes (or at least, fake Moody says) that whatever Snape does, he’ll always be a Death Eater, which is why he harasses him throughout the year, making open threats:
“’Course Dumbledore trusts you,” growled Moody. “He’s a trusting man, isn’t he? Believes in second chances. But me — I say there are spots that don’t come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d’you know what I mean?”
Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something on it had hurt him.
Moody laughed. “Get back to bed, Snape.” […] “I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time…
Creepy inuendo.
Another reason to be on edge is that earlier in the year, a Death Eater threw Morsmordre in the sky, and Snape’s Dark Mark is blackening, signifying the return of his old master, Lord Voldemort. Every Death Eater will have to answer to « thirteen years » of disappointment; and Snape knows that he might very well die if he fails to convince Voldemort that he’s been faithful all along.
But that’s not all. Before the narrator accuses Snape of being particularly vindictive:
« The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. »
I don’t know about you, but that’s a lot of patience coming from a teacher. If we’d been melting the Chemistry table and ustensiles even twice, we’d have gotten detention. Now imagine six times. That’s what you call a vindictive teacher? There ought to have been property damage as well…
Which is why I think Neville came back upset from detention: less because of the horned lizards, and more because Snape was pissed over those six melted cauldrons. It doesn’t help that Neville is easily frightened by his Potions teacher, so even Snape scolding him as neutrally as he could, or the mere fact of staying ominously silent while his student does his work, would be enough to scare Neville shitless.
Snape is right to be pissed about six melted cauldrons. Remember what happened last time a cauldron was melted?
Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class were standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
Snape immediately intervened, Vanishing the potion and sending Neville to the Infirmary. That Neville hurt himself in Potions made his teacher upset:
‘Idiot boy!’ snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. ‘I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?’
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
‘Take him up to the hospital wing,’ Snape spat at Seamus.
But he insulted Neville! True, but not out of hatred: out of concern. Snape is the kind who expresses his worry through anger (a bad coping mechanism, admittedly). Parallel his reaction here with:
“So,” he said, straightening up again. “Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences.”
And that applies to his superior as well:
‘Why,’ said Snape, without preamble, ‘why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realised that. Why even touch it?’ […]
‘It is a miracle you managed to return here!’ Snape sounded furious. ‘That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being –’ […]
‘If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!’ said Snape furiously.
So yeah, Snape definitely has reasons to be upset: Neville almost hurt himself and the whole class six times. Thankfully, it seems Snape learned from the very first failed potion class that he must pay extra care to that dunderhead. Indeed: Neville never needs to go to the Infirmary again.
8. Assigned Ron detention that involved cutting up rat parts:
Ron hadn’t spoken to him at all since he had told him about Snape’s detentions. Harry had half hoped they would make things up during the two hours they were forced to pickle rats’ brains in Snape’s dungeon, but that had been the day Rita’s article had appeared, which seemed to have confirmed Ron’s belief that Harry was really enjoying all the attention.
Some people use that scene as another argument that Snape is emotionally torturing his students. But again, detention is not supposed to be pleasant, students handle animal parts in class, and Ron is not the kind to be upset about supposedly hurting dead pests: he’s the one who tested his first spell on Scabbers, remember?
You’ll also notice that it happens in Goblet of Fire. By that time, Ron had lost his « pet rat » which happened to be a creepy man by the name of Peter Pettigrew. So Snape is basically giving Ron and Harry an opportunity to indulge in the fantasy of pickling Wormtail’s brains out.
And that is after Snape the Legilimens likely had to spend an hour invaded by violent images of Harry Crucio’ing him, right after the fight between Harry and Draco in the corridor. That kid needed something to vent upon, and Snape seems to have picked up on that.
9. Wanted to test an antidote on Harry in Potions class
Now we’re talking! Why are people so obsessed with the magic toad and not this scene! It belongs to the Honourable Mentions in which Snape was being an asshole, so you’d be right to put that one against him. Still, here are some facts to consider.
First, maybe that’s just something Snape does to teach his students Potions. I would not condone it, but if you told me that Hogwarts teachers sometimes put the students’ potions into practice, I wouldn’t be surprised. In Hogwarts, students are already expected to train their magic on one another, including in harmful ways. The school celebrates a sport that involves getting students badly hurt or nearly killed and it’s a wonder none of them died or sustained any lasting damage. Remember that time Harry’s head cracked?
This is probably why no one but Snape (and Harry’s friends, who were on edge, thinking someone was trying to kill him) reacted when Harry was hanging onto his broom for dear life. This is also why no one is particularly outraged about Snape having a student test their own antidote: that is in line with what another Hogwarts professor would do. He wasn’t out of line.
Another point to consider – which corroborates the Trevor drama – is that Snape is a Potions Master prodigy who seems rightfully confident in not getting a student significantly harmed and in handling an emergency if there is any. And we are talking about a magic boy who survived getting hit on the head by a Bludger in HBP. Homer Simpson would be jealous.
Next, if Snape saw that Harry’s potion was really unfit for consumption, he could decide to choose a better one, like Hermione’s or Draco’s. Or, he could test Harry’s potion, and then use one of the other students’ antidotes to heal Harry immediately. Effectively showing how practical antidotes for common poisons are. You sure cannot blame Snape for trying to kill Harry in Potions class.
But I do agree it seems kind of uncharacteristic of Snape to have a student test their own antidote on themselves. There are several reasons to explain why it happened.
Snape is at his worst in Goblet of Fire, which is why there are so many things he does wrong that year. That is because, as we’ve mentioned, Moody openly threatens and harasses him, Karkaroff harasses him with the Dark Mark, the Dark Lord is returning (and so is Snape’s guilt over having once been a Death Eater, but also the possibility of being executed for treason), and Harry participates in the highly dangerous Triwizard Tournament, making Snape’s job of protecting him even harder. At the time, Snape thinks that Harry, just like his dear father would, has cheated his way through and is enjoying the fame – like Ron, Sprout, and pretty much everyone else thinks. This is not helped by Rita Skeeter, who twists Harry’s words for drama:
“‘Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache’… dear, dear, Potter, what’s ailing you now? ‘A boy like no other, perhaps…’”
This year, Snape sees his accusations against Harry confirmed:
“— mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent —” [DH]
“It’s no one’s fault but Potter’s, Karkaroff,” said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. “Don’t go blaming Dumbledore for Potter’s determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here —”
“Thank you, Severus,” said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. [GoF]
I find it hard to think that anyone would have protested if oh-so-famous Harry Potter had to be the one asked to test an antidote. Not even Ron.
But of all the reasons we have cited, I think this is the most interesting one: Harry was having fantasies of Crucio’ing Snape during Potions class.
Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him… If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse… he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching… [weirdly sexual image]
“Antidotes!” said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. “You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…”
Snape’s eyes met Harry’s, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him.
It is remarkable that, textually, Snape decides to make Harry test an antidote right after that vivid imagery of torture. And as hinted at since book 1, Snape is a proficient Legilimens. As such, this scene can be read as Snape getting real pissed that Harry won’t stop shoving violent thoughts in his teacher’s head for an hour or two (even if unintentionally), so Snape finally decides to remind Harry that he too can be nasty. Not that this makes Harry any less calm…
Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape’s greasy head —
10. The Occlumency Lessons
The subject of the Occlumency lessons with Snape is something I want to explain in detail in another video. Here I will summarize the take-away from chapters “Occlumency”, “Seen and Unforeseen” and “Snape’s Worst Memory”:
- Book-Snape never tortured Harry during the lessons, that aspect was added in the movies for drama
- Book-Snape takes time to explain Occlumency to Harry and how to perform it
- He (almost) always warns him whenever he’ll cast Legilimency and show surprisingly decency
- He never mocks Harry for the dozens of humiliating memories he finds, only getting angry that Harry keeps failing and even hides his nightmares where he seems to share Voldemort’s visions, that he calls the Dark Lord “Voldemort” despite the effect it has on Snape’s Dark Mark, and that he keeps talking over him
- The reason Harry fails is that he suspected Snape to try to weaken his mind for Voldemort while at the same time trying to preserve their connection so that he could save people like Arthur Weasley and later his godfather; he makes little effort and doesn’t do his homework like emptying his mind before going to sleep
- When Harry stops antagonizing Snape for a moment, he Occludes effectively, earning his teacher’s congratulations, and proving that weeks trying to teach him were wasted because of his laziness
- Snape tries to convince a confused and traumatized 15-yo Harry that he shouldn’t involve himself in the war, leaving it up to the adults like his godfather and Potions Master
- Though Snape told him that their lesson was over and they would continue the next day, Harry does not leave his office and instead plunges into the Pensieve where Snape stored his most vulnerable memories, spying on his Worst Memory, of course triggering Snape’s worst rageful freak-out
- That act alone could have put the spy in serious danger if Harry had found a memory that incriminated him in Voldemort’s eyes – through Harry’s own eyes
- Harry refused to apologize and try to resume his lessons with Snape, blinded by his own hatred