prolly a snape addict

The Four Foundational Rules

1. He Analyzes Everything First

Snape's default mode is analytical. He doesn't react—he assesses, categorizes, then responds. However, his analysis is colored by pessimism: if it can go wrong, it probably will. His working assumption is always "assume the worst until proven otherwise."

Example:

Normal person: "They're being nice to me!"

Snape: "They're being nice. Why? What do they want?"

2. He Believes He's the Smartest Person in the Room

Always. This isn't arrogance (though it looks like it)—it's a defense mechanism born from years of being dismissed and underestimated. When someone says something foolish, it confirms his worldview: no one sees things as clearly as he does.

This means:

He's condescending by default (they genuinely don't understand)

He's perpetually disappointed (they keep proving him right)

He's isolated by his own intellect (no one operates on his level)

3. He Cannot Handle Emotion

Any feeling—positive or negative—gets immediately masked. His go-to deflections are:

Preferred: Sarcasm (appears unbothered, maintains control) Fallback: Anger (when emotion breaks through despite his efforts)

Anger isn't his first choice—it's what happens when he loses control. Sarcasm lets him feel superior and detached. Anger reveals he's been affected, which he hates.

4. He Believes He's Fundamentally Unlovable

This is the core wound. Snape operates from the belief that:

No one will ever truly care about him

Anyone who tries has ulterior motives

Emotional self-protection > any potential relationship

Pushing people away is survival, not cruelty

The Tragic Cycle:

Someone genuinely tries to get close

He pushes them away (testing/protecting)

They withdraw (natural response to rejection)

He interprets their withdrawal as proof they had ulterior motives all along

Confirms he was right to push them away

Repeat

It's devastatingly self-fulfilling.

Snape Contains Multitudes (And Hates It)

Here's the thing about Snape that trips up a lot of writers: he's walking contradiction, and you shouldn't try to fix that.

Snape is simultaneously:

Brilliant and petty

Brave and cowardly (faces Voldemort regularly but can't face his own feelings)

Selfless and selfish (saves Harry's life repeatedly while tormenting him)

Desperate for connection but actively sabotages it

Craves respect but makes himself deliberately unlikable

Capable of immense love and immense cruelty, often in the same breath

For writers: These contradictions aren't flaws in his character—they're the point. He's a deeply damaged person who has never healed, so he's walking around full of unresolved tension, unprocessed trauma, and competing impulses.

Don't try to reconcile these contradictions. Don't make him "consistently cruel" or "secretly soft." Let him be both. Let him be unfair. Let him save someone's life and then be needlessly cruel to them five minutes later. Let him care deeply about something and then mock someone else for caring about the same thing.

Best Approach: Snape is genuinely cruel AND genuinely caring, and those two things exist in him simultaneously without canceling each other out. He hasn't integrated his trauma, so he's fragmented. That's what makes him compelling.

Control is Survival

To understand Snape's behavior, you have to understand his relationship with control—because for him, control isn't about power, it's about survival.

Why Control Matters So Much:

Snape's childhood was defined by chaos and powerlessness:

Poverty (Spinner's End)

Abuse (his father)

Helplessness (couldn't protect his mother, couldn't escape)

Social isolation (the weird poor kid)

As an adult, he's obsessed with control because it's the only thing standing between him and that childhood vulnerability. If he can control the situation, he can't be hurt the way he was hurt as a child.

How This Manifests:

Intellectual superiority → If I'm the smartest, I see things coming, I can't be caught off guard

Emotional suppression → If I don't feel it, it can't control me or be used against me

Anticipating worst-case scenarios → If I expect the worst, I'm prepared; I can't be disappointed

Cruelty as preemptive strike → If I hurt you first, you can't hurt me; I control when and how pain happens

Rigid routine/environment → Predictability = safety (his classroom never changes, his behavior is consistent)

What Happens When He Loses Control:

When someone surprises him, outsmarts him, or makes him feel something unexpected, Snape doesn't just get angry—he gets vicious. It's not proportional because it's not really about the current situation. It's panic dressed as cruelty.

For writers: If you want to rattle Snape, make him lose control of:

Information (someone knows something he doesn't)

A situation (things spiral beyond his management)

His emotions (someone makes him feel something he didn't authorize)

His environment (forced into unfamiliar territory)

His response will be disproportionately harsh because you've triggered his core fear: powerlessness.

How to Write Snape's Dialogue: The Translation Process

Let's say Snape sees a flower he likes (a lily, perhaps?).

Normal person's thought: "Oh, that's a really pretty flower! I would love to have one."

Snape's internal process:

Step 1: Analyze First

Why is it appealing? What specifically draws my attention? → "That flower looks well cared for—bright, healthy, colorful. I would like one."

Step 2: Add Intellectual Precision

Remove casual language. Use technical/formal vocabulary. → "The plant appears well maintained and visually appealing. I believe I would want one for myself."

Step 3: Strip All Emotion

Remove any indication of personal desire or feeling. Make it observational. → "The plant is well maintained and visually appealing."

Step 4: Minimize + Add Careful Pauses

Use the fewest words possible. Pauses indicate he's selecting words deliberately. → "The plant is... adequate."

And that's Snape dialogue.

He's gone from "I love this and want it!" to "adequate"—but if you understand his filtering system, you know those mean the same thing.

Additional Dialogue Patterns:

Questions as weapons: He rarely asks genuine questions. Questions are tools for:

Exposing incompetence ("Can you explain your reasoning, Mr. Potter, or is that beyond your capabilities?")

Asserting superiority ("Do you expect me to believe that?")

Controlling conversation ("And why, precisely, would I care?")

Silence as punctuation: Snape's pauses aren't hesitation—they're calculated. A pause before responding makes the other person uncomfortable, gives him time to formulate the most cutting response, and signals that their comment wasn't worth an immediate reply.

Formal speech as armor: The more emotional he's feeling, the more formal and precise his language becomes. Contractions disappear. Sentences become clipped. If he's really rattled, his vocabulary becomes almost comically elevated—it's a retreat into intellectualism when emotion threatens.

What His Body Does When His Mouth Won't

Snape's physicality is just as controlled as his dialogue, but his body language often betrays him before his words do.

Snape's Physical Vocabulary:

Stillness as power

Doesn't fidget, doesn't pace (unless truly agitated)

Can stand motionless for extended periods

Uses stillness to make others uncomfortable

Economy of movement (nothing wasted, nothing revealed)

Looming and spatial invasion

Uses his height to intimidate

Invades personal space deliberately

Stands too close when he wants to unsettle someone

Towers over students (physical reminder of power imbalance)

The voice as weapon

Soft = dangerous (the softer he gets, the more trouble you're in)

Loud = loss of control (if he's yelling, you've genuinely gotten to him)

Silky/drawling = performing cruelty (enjoying your discomfort)

Sharp/clipped = barely contained emotion

Hands tell the truth

Clasped behind back = restraint, control, preventing himself from action

Clenched = barely contained emotion

Touching his wand = grounding himself, checking it's there, preparing

Steepled fingers = thinking, calculating, judging

Sudden movement = control slipping

For Writers: When Control Slips Physically

Snape's body betrays him before his words do. If you want to show he's rattled without having him say it:

A hand tremor (quickly controlled)

Moving too quickly (then forcing himself to slow)

Standing too close (invading space because he's feeling invaded)

Voice going too soft (overcorrecting for emotion)

A sharp intake of breath (suppressed reaction)

Eyes widening fractionally (surprise he immediately masks)

Touching his wand reflexively (seeking comfort/control)

Example: His hand moved to his wand—not drawing it, just... touching it. Grounding himself. Checking it was still there. His fingers wrapped around the wood for a breath, two, before he forced them away and clasped both hands behind his back.

This tells you: He's rattled, seeking control, and forcing himself back into his controlled posture.

The Smartest Person in the Room: A Hierarchy

Snape doesn't treat all "not smart" the same way. Understanding the distinction helps you write his interactions more authentically.

How Snape Responds to Different Failures:

Incompetence despite genuine effort (Neville trying)

Response: Frustrated, condescending, but occasionally lets a decent attempt pass without comment

Why: He recognizes effort even if he despises the lack of natural talent

The tell: If Snape says nothing when Neville does something right, that's his version of praise

For writers: This is grudging acknowledgment at best, never warmth

Genuine stupidity (Crabbe, Goyle)

Response: Dismissive, writes them off entirely, barely wastes energy

Why: They're beneath his notice; can't fix stupid

The tell: He doesn't even bother insulting them creatively—it's not worth the effort

For writers: Use short, bored dismissals ("Out") rather than elaborate takedowns

Willful ignorance (people who should know better)

Response: Rage. This is what truly enrages him.

Why: They could be better and choose not to be, which is unforgivable to someone who clawed his way up from nothing through sheer intellect

Examples: Harry not reading instructions, Lockhart being a fraud, people who coast on privilege

The tell: His cruelty becomes personal and creative

For writers: This is where the cutting remarks come out, where he'll humiliate someone publicly, where his anger is cold and precise

Fake expertise (Lockhart, frauds)

Response: Barely concealed contempt mixed with amusement at their inevitable downfall

Why: He knows they'll be exposed; he's just waiting for it

The tell: Snide remarks, letting them hang themselves with their own incompetence

For writers: He's patient with these people because their failure is inevitable and he'll enjoy watching it

What Actually Impresses Snape (And He'll Never Admit It)

If you're writing Snape in any kind of relationship—friendship, mentorship, romance, rivalry—you need to understand what earns his respect. Because without respect, you have nothing.

What Snape Respects:

✅ Competence without arrogance

Do good work, don't brag about it

Let your results speak for themselves

Example: Hermione's actually good at potions; he hates that he can't fault her work

✅ Standing up to him intelligently

With facts, logic, or genuine counterarguments

Not with emotional outbursts or moral posturing

Example: Hermione correcting him with evidence = grudging respect; Harry mouthing off = rage

The key: Challenge his conclusions, not his authority

✅ Seeing through his bullshit

If you call him on his deflection tactics and don't back down, he's intrigued (even if furious)

Shows you're actually paying attention

Means you're not easily manipulated

Warning: This only works if you're also competent; otherwise you're just annoying

✅ People who don't need his approval

Desperation repulses him

Indifference intrigues him

If you don't care whether he likes you, you're more interesting than 95% of people

Example: McGonagall doesn't give a damn what he thinks, and he respects her for it

✅ Competence in areas he values

Potions, magic theory, strategy, intellect, cunning

Not Quidditch, popularity, or emotional intelligence

Exception: He respects Dumbledore's manipulation skills even though it's emotional—because it's strategic emotional manipulation

✅ Quiet strength

People who endure without complaining

Strength that doesn't need to announce itself

Example: Lupin's quiet dignity in the face of discrimination

What He Does NOT Respect:

❌ Emotional vulnerability without accompanying strength ❌ People who fold under pressure ❌ Blind optimism or naivety ❌ Anyone who reminds him of James Potter (arrogance, entitlement, charm-based success) ❌ People who coast on privilege, looks, or popularity ❌ Moral grandstanding without personal sacrifice ❌ Seeking his approval or validation

For Writers: Cracking Snape's Walls

If you want to write someone who actually gets through to Snape, they need to:

Earn his respect first (be good at something he values)

Stand their ground (don't back down when he pushes)

Not need him (indifference is more attractive than eagerness)

See through his defenses (recognize what he's doing and why)

Give him space (forced proximity works; forced intimacy doesn't)

Match his intellect (he needs someone who can keep up)

Not pity him (pity is humiliating; understanding is different)

Common Mistake: Writing someone who "fixes" Snape with love and patience.

Better Approach: Writing someone who's compelling enough that Snape chooses to do the work of letting them in—slowly, grudgingly, with frequent backsliding.

Common Misconceptions

"Snape is incapable of love"

Wrong. Snape is terrified of love and believes he doesn't deserve it—which is entirely different from being incapable of it.

His intense attachment to Lily and Dumbledore isn't evidence he can only love them—it's evidence that he latches onto the rare people who seemed to care for him despite his flaws. The problem? Neither relationship was healthy:

Lily: Abandoned him after he called her a slur (understandable), but then dated his bully (brutal). It wasn't just leaving—it was choosing James Potter, the person who tormented Snape for sport, who had sexually assaulted him, who made his life hell for years. That's not just moving on; that's choosing his abuser's side and erasing their entire friendship. The person who was supposed to understand him best chose the person who understood him least—and made it look effortless.

Dumbledore: Manipulated his guilt and grief into unconditional loyalty. I don't think Dumbledore was malicious—just emotionally disconnected enough not to realize (or care about) the damage he was doing. He used Snape's love for Lily as a leash and called it redemption.

The real issue: Snape doesn't know what healthy love looks like. His mother couldn't protect him. Lily abandoned him. Dumbledore used him. So he pushes love away, assuming it will hurt him eventually—because in his experience, it always does.

The only way he'd accept love is through:

Forced proximity (can't escape easily, can't push away completely)

Someone who won't be a punching bag (pushes back, doesn't let him weaponize his damage)

Time (enough exposure that his defenses slowly erode despite his best efforts)

Respect established first (he has to respect them before he can trust them)

This is actually harder to write than "emotionally unavailable man learns to feel"—because Snape already feels too much. He's built elaborate fortifications against his own emotions, and dismantling them is terrifying.

"He could never move on from Lily because he'd feel like he's betraying her"

Also wrong.

Snape's love for Lily is on a pedestal, yes—but not because he feels romantically loyal to her memory. She wasn't loyal to him (see: James Potter). His devotion to her memory is about:

Guilt → He got her killed by telling Voldemort the prophecy Debt → Keeping Harry safe is how he atones Dumbledore's manipulation → Leveraging that guilt into eternal servitude Lost possibility → She represents the person he could have been if things had gone differently

She represents his lost happiness, his greatest mistake, and his last connection to the person he was before he became what he is. But that doesn't mean he's incapable of moving on—it means he'd need someone patient enough (and compelling enough) to let him hold both truths simultaneously:

I loved her and I lost her, and she's gone, and I can still care for someone new.

For writers: Moving on from Lily doesn't mean forgetting her or stopping his protection of Harry. It means accepting that he can honor her memory and build something new. These aren't mutually exclusive unless he makes them so.

Let's Look at How Canon Does It

Sometimes the best way to understand a character is to see them in action. Let's break down some iconic Snape moments and examine why they work.

Example 1: "Turn to page 394" (PoA, Lupin's classroom)

The Scene: Snape takes over Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts class without warning, immediately assigns werewolf readings (targeting Lupin), and dismisses the students' concerns entirely.

Why This Works:

✅ Enters silently (intimidation through presence alone—he doesn't need to announce himself)

✅ Doesn't explain (assumes authority, doesn't justify his presence)

✅ Ignores their confusion ("But sir, we're not supposed to—" "Turn. To. Page. 394.")

✅ Dismissive of their concerns (they're children; their opinions are irrelevant)

✅ Controls through stillness and tone (never raises his voice, but everyone obeys)

✅ Strategic cruelty (the werewolf assignment isn't random—it's a message to Lupin)

For writers: Notice how much Snape accomplishes without explaining himself. He doesn't need to justify, defend, or elaborate. His authority is assumed, and his silence is more powerful than any speech.

Example 2: The Unbreakable Vow (HBP, Spinner's End)

The Scene: Bellatrix and Narcissa arrive at Snape's home. Bellatrix openly questions his loyalty to Voldemort. Snape turns her suspicion into an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco.

Why This Works:

✅ Analyzes the situation instantly (Bellatrix is testing him, Narcissa is desperate, both are useful)

✅ Appears calm while making a life-or-death decision (shows no fear, no hesitation)

✅ Uses Bellatrix's assumptions against her (turns her trap into proof of loyalty)

✅ Commits to protecting Draco while hiding true motives (Dumbledore's plan, but Bella thinks it's for Voldemort)

✅ Controls the entire interaction (he's in danger but never shows it)

For writers: This is Snape's strategic mind at work. He's simultaneously:

Protecting his cover

Following Dumbledore's orders

Manipulating Bellatrix

Saving Draco

Concealing his terror

And he does it all while appearing bored. That's mastery of self-control.

Example 3: "Look at me" (DH, the Shrieking Shack)

The Scene: Snape is dying from Nagini's attack. His last words to Harry are "Look at me"—he wants to see Lily's eyes one final time.

Why This Works:

✅ Only moment of total vulnerability in the entire series

✅ Still trying to control the situation (needs Harry to take the memories, see the truth)

✅ Dies reaching for connection (eye contact = intimacy he normally avoids at all costs)

✅ Finally lets someone see him (because he has nothing left to lose)

✅ Doesn't apologize or explain (even dying, he won't justify himself)

For writers: This is devastating because it's the only time Snape drops his defenses completely. Seven books of walls, and they all come down in his last thirty seconds. Notice what he doesn't say:

No "I'm sorry"

No "Tell Harry I—"

No explanation

Just "Look at me"

He doesn't ask for forgiveness or understanding. He just wants to see Lily's eyes one more time before he dies. That's it. That's all he allows himself.

The Lesson: Snape's most powerful moment is his most vulnerable one, and even then, he barely says anything. His restraint is what makes it hurt so much.

What These Scenes Teach Us:

Silence is power (Snape says less than you'd expect, and it's more effective)

Control under pressure (the worse the situation, the calmer he appears)

Strategic cruelty (his cruelty always serves a purpose)

Actions over words (he rarely explains; his actions speak)

Vulnerability only at the end (defenses down only when death is certain)

For writers: Study his contradictions. He's cruel to Harry for seven books, we watch him murder Dumbledore, and we still cry when he dies. That's masterful character work. The key? He's never softened. We just see why he was the way he was.

Quick Reference Guide for Writers

✅ DO:

Let him be contradictory (cruel AND caring, brave AND cowardly)

Show emotion through physical tells before dialogue

Make him the smartest person in the room (he always is)

Use silence and pauses as weapons

Have him analyze situations before reacting

Make his cruelty serve a purpose (control, protection, deflection)

Let sarcasm be his default; anger means he's lost control

Remember he believes everyone has ulterior motives

Show that loss of control terrifies him

Earn his respect before trying to earn his trust

❌ DON'T:

Have him apologize easily (he won't, even when wrong)

Write him crying or breaking down unless it's EARNED (his control is everything)

Make him emotionally available just because someone is patient (it takes YEARS)

Have him explain his feelings clearly (he doesn't understand them himself)

Soften his edges for romance (he's not a project to fix)

Make him suddenly warm and fuzzy (vulnerability ≠ softness)

Have him fold under pressure (he thrives under pressure)

Write him forgiving easily (grudges are forever)

Give him modern therapy speak (he'd rather die)

Final Thoughts

Severus Snape isn't hard to write once you understand this:

He's not cold. He's afraid.

Every cutting remark, every wall he builds, every person he pushes away—it's all fear dressed up as superiority. He feels everything and has spent decades learning to show nothing. He's not emotionally stunted; he's emotionally overwhelmed and has armored himself against it.

The tragedy of Severus Snape isn't that he can't love.

It's that he can—deeply, painfully, all-consumingly—and he's convinced himself that no one will ever love him back.

Write him like someone who's already been hurt as badly as a person can be hurt, and who's determined never to let it happen again.

Then watch what happens when, despite his best efforts, it starts to happen anyway.