Confessions of a Snape-Lover
How many years have I been threatening promising to write the post about why Snape is Ever So Sexy? A couple, at least. Well, this is me, finally following through. I can't pretend to answer the question of why other women (and men, presumably) find Snape appealing, and I make no claims that we Snape-fanciers possess any particular characteristics, merits, or qualities of discernment. The below is meant to describe me only, and if it describes anyone else, it is unintentional (though it is always pleasant, of course, to find a like-minded soul).
I think I will dispose of a couple of common objections first, and then proceed to the sad, degrading tale of my unfortunate infatuation:
But... Snape is ugly!
Yeah, so?
I can't deny that I have a weakness for a pretty face -- anyone taking even a cursory glance at my huge collection of Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp icons would immediately know me for a liar. But physical appearance isn't that important in sexual attraction. If it was, I'd have a huge crush on Gilderoy Lockhart. Okay, wait... strike that: I do kind of have a huge crush on Gilderoy Lockhart. But if appearance was everything, I'd have huge crushes on Sirius Black and Cedric Diggory, and I don't.
It's difficult in real life to avoid being influenced by looks when it comes to being attracted. It's difficult even when watching movies or television. But if you can ever do it, it should be when you read about a character in a book. In books you know characters primarily by their dialogue -- what they say and how they say it -- and (if they're a point-of-view character, which Snape isn't) by their thoughts. We might "see" Snape's oily hair or yellowed teeth once per book, but his words and actions are all over the pages.
I've never had a problem falling for plenty of fictional characters ...okay, let's just say it... fictional men who aren't described as physically attractive. Sure, some of them are what you might call "sexy-ugly" -- the tall, swarthy, and harsh-featured Mr. Rochester type, although he's not one of my heart-throbs -- but some of them are just really not that hot at all. Freddy Standen, for instance, in Georgette Heyer's Cotillion, has a weak chin, narrow shoulders, and protuberant eyes, but I love him with a mad passion. The love interest in Anne McCaffrey's The Ship Who Sang, Niall Parollan, is a short middle-aged monkeyish man, and I fancied him something awful. Cyrano de Bergerac has a nose that makes Snape's large hooked one look cute by comparison, and he can have me any time. Alejandro (Sandy) Stern of Scott Turow's Presumed Innocent and The Burden of Proof is short, stout, bald, fifty-six, and altogether lovable. And, you know, I thought the prince in Disney's Beauty and the Beast was way hotter in his enchanted form.
As a ravenous reader of fiction for thirty-five years, with a prediliction for romance, a taste for smuttiness, and a fondness for science fiction and fantasy, I've fallen vicariously in love (through identification with the heroine) with all types of men. I've been trained to be able to find a large variety of physical types attractive, non-human and human, of every conceivable ethnicity and coloring, short, tall, skinny, fat, healthy, handicapped, young, old, handsome, ugly, effiminate, brutish, fastidious, and filthy. How can someone whose first love was the eternally-grimy Spiller from The Borrowers object to a little greasy hair? And, besides, who can even mind greasy hair after watching Viggo Mortensen going around unwashed as Aragorn for three movies?
And so I reject the "too ugly" argument. But there is another, frequently made with equal or greater force:
But... Snape is mean and nasty and bullies Neville! Oh, yeah, and he was a Death Eater...
Again I say, "yeah, so?"
I must point again to my wide reading (and movie-watching) of the past few decades, and the broadening effect it has had on my tastes. I have had fictional crushes on all sorts of rascals, from the selfish and sinister Alastair father and son in Georgette Heyer's novels to Hettar, David Edding's single-minded and pitiless eliminator of the Murgo race. I have fallen in love with Sir John Smythe the career thief and swindler[1], Martin Q. Blank the professional hitman[2], Captain Jack Sparrow the bloody pirate[3], Rory Frost the slave-trader and rapist[4], Francis Crawford the perpetrator of all sorts of atrocities[5], Han Solo the mercenary who shot first[6], Sherlock Holmes the irascible and misogynist cocaine addict[7], and Ralph Gorse the heartless seducer and blackmailer[8]. Other people have found themselves attracted to Anakin Skywalker and Tom Riddle. Do we not find Warren Beatty sexy in Bonnie and Clyde, Kevin Costner in No Way Out, and Jude Law in Alfie?
And I'm supposed to eliminate Severus Snape from consideration as someone I might be attracted to because he's a mean teacher? I don't think so!
But the above simply answers the questions of why Snape's physical appearance and personality aren't necessarily a barrier to me finding him attractive. Clearly I don't fall for every unattractive, unpleasant, and morally-dubious guy I meet in fiction. Argus Filch, for instance, does nothing for me. So...
Why Snape?
To understand how I became attracted to Snape (and, remember, this essay is all about me me me ME), let's look at what I generally find attractive in real and fictional men.
1. Intelligence
This is the biggie. I'm ridiculously attracted to intelligent men -- in real life, in books, in movies, everywhere. I always go for "the smart one." In particular, I'm attracted to verbal fluency and verbal skills, in real life and in fiction.
2. Competence
I'm attracted to men who can do things well, who have skills and talents and an air of calm authority. In fiction, I have a long history of falling in love with men who solve mysteries.
3. Dry humor
I'm drawn to men who make me laugh, and especially men who are funny with a straight face. I like sarcasm, and I can't help liking witty barbs and put-down humor. I also like pointed "message" humor -- think Jon Stewart -- better than lighthearted silly humor -- think Jim Carrey.
4. Unattainability
Okay, maybe it's not healthy, but I'm drawn to the hard-to-get and the reserved. In real life, I'm drawn to men who might not show much interest in me, especially at first, and who are hard-to-read. In books, I'm drawn to characters whose inner lives and motives are hidden, characters who are stand-offish to the other characters. I very rarely become attracted to a point-of-view character -- that just takes all the mystery away.
So how does all that lead to Snape? I'll run down the list:
Intelligence
An important thing to remember is that I fell in love with Snape in the first book. Snape might not be the most intelligent character in the series -- I'd award that palm to Dumbledore, with Riddle/Voldemort in the running -- but he really made a good showing in Book 1. Remember the main mystery of the book? Snape had that one solved by Halloween. He knew Quirrell was trying to steal the Stone and was already (successfully) trying to stop him. Our hero Harry, you might remember, didn't make that connection until... well, he never made it -- Quirrell had to tell him. Hermione didn't make it either, and we have no particular indication that Dumbledore did. Snape was the "brilliant detective" in Book 1.
And he didn't become less smart as the series progressed. Snape is almost always the one who figures out what Harry is up to and catches him in wrongdoing [9]. Harry even describes him as "putting two and two together, as only Snape could...." Be still, my heart! And Hermione is even more complimentary:
"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."
Clearly, Severus Snape is not one of them.
We have several scenes where Snape just kind of looks intelligent. This, for instance:
Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it.
and this:
"And what are you two doing here?" said Snape, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. "An odd place to meet-" To Harry's immense disquiet, Snape's black eyes flicked to the doorways on either side of them, and then to the one-eyed witch.
and this:
Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius's wand-tip to his face.
To use a distinction popular in the fandom recently, not only are we told that Snape is smart, we're repeatedly shown him in the act of thinking.
And then there's the Half-Blood Prince material... this happened too late in the series for it to be responsible for my Snape-love, but it sure didn't diminish it any. The guy is a Potions genius. He has the kind of intelligence I most admire -- not the kind of intelligence Hermione has (and I have myself, actually), but the kind Fred and George have -- creative intelligence. Again, we are shown this, in great detail. For some reason, Rowling devoted a lot of page space to showing us how Snape's brain works.
Snape is also a pretty eloquent guy, on occasion:
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.
...As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
and:
“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."
Mmmmmmm....
Oh, pardon me. Okay, so... Snape is smart. Everyone agrees to that. And I'm attracted to smart men. He is also shown to be extraordinarily competent.
Competence
Snape is good enough at two different subjects to be unquestionably qualified to teach them at Hogwarts. Again and again in the text, we get direct statements about Snape's competence:
"Why -?" Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question. "I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."
and:
"Look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round and reaching Harry last. "And listen…" he lowered his voice while the rest of them exchanged last minute goodbyes with Tonks, "Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all - Sirius included - want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, all right?"
and:
"...Had she put it on, had she even held it in her ungloved hand, she would have died, perhaps instantly. Luckily Professor Snape was able to do enough to prevent a rapid spread of the curse-"
..."Professor Snape knows much more about the Dark Arts than Madam Pomfrey, Harry."
Snape displays quite a talent for healing in Book 6. Dumbledore credits him with saving his life after he was damaged by the Horcrux curse and with saving Katie Bell from the cursed necklace, and we see him heal Draco Malfoy from the Sectumsempra curse.
Snape is even good at teaching. Yes, I agree, he's not good at teaching a student like Neville Longbottom, but the text repeatedly portrays him as a competent teacher:
He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "
and:
"Well, the class seem fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly to Snape's back. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."
and:
[after Snape's first DADA class]"Harry," Ernie said portentously, holding out his hand as Harry approached, "didn't get a chance to speak in Defense Against The Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought, but Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old D.A. lags . . . And how are you, Ron-Hermione?"
I think it is notable -- especially looking back over all the incompetent Defence teachers we've seen, that Harry went a whole year without finding anything to complain about or object to in Snape's teaching -- except that he disagreed with him on the best way to fight Dementors. Not only does Harry hate Snape, but he obviously knows the crucial importance of teaching DADA at the current time. And still, he has no fault to find.
And, of course, Snape is a good spy -- so good, in fact, that he has managed to become the trusted right-hand man of both of the most powerful wizards of his time. On opposite sides. Simultaneously.
Finally, Snape is competent, more than competent, at the sexiest thing a guy in the wizarding world can be good at (well, besides sex itself) -- he's great at wandplay dueling. And if I started falling for Severus Snape in Book 1, the "Dueling Club" chapter in Book 2 made sure I wouldn't get up again. When Snape knocks Lockhart off the stage, it is (I believe) the first time we see a fully-qualified adult wizard lift a wand in anger. And Harry is impressed:
Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
And then in Book 6 we really see Snape in action and he utterly dominates Harry, to the point where I'd have to put him only below Dumbledore and Voldemort as the best duelist we've seen in action. Snape easily blocks Harry's curses, recognizes and blocks his non-verbal curse, and otherwise totally owns him:
Snape shouted, "Run, Draco!" and turned. Twenty yards apart, he and Harry looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.
"Cruc-"
But Snape parried the curse, knocking Harry backward off his feet before he could complete it;
..."Cruc-" yelled Harry for the second time, aiming for the figure ahead illuminated in the dancing firelight, but Snape blocked the spell again.
..."Incarc-" Harry roared, but Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm.
..."Stupe-"
"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more.
...Harry uttered an inarticulate yell of rage: In that instant, he cared not whether he lived or died. Pushing himself to his feet again, he staggered blindly toward Snape, the man he now hated as much as he hated Voldemort himself-
"Sectum-"
Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again;
...Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-
"No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand.
...Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.
"Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward -"
Granted, Harry is still just a kid, but he put up a much better show than that every other time he's been in action. Rowling chose to show Snape dominating Harry without even needing to fight back and to write things like "Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm." Does she want me to fancy him?
Dry humor
The Harry Potter books are a good place to be for someone who finds sarcastic quips and put-downs sexy. Using that criterion, I could fancy Harry, or Ron, or Draco, or Sirius, or Fred-and-George, or (if I swung that way) Hermione or Ginny. But Severus Snape certainly qualifies as well. There are certain kinds of dialogue exchange that I am particularly vulnerable to -- things Georgette Heyer constantly gives to her soigné Regency heroes. One of them is the character who enters on a set-up line which he can cap. Like this:
"Hang on ..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table.... Where's Snape?"
..."Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.
"Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"
"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him-"
"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
Or this:
"...Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was...."
"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"
"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.
Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.
Another is the "I can't believe he said that" insult -- brutal frankness in a calm bored voice. Like this:
"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 at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."
Way harsh, Tai, and yet... almost against my will, I laughed. If I may inject an aside here, I think that's one of the main reasons for the "bad boy syndrome" -- it's not only that we silly girls think that our pure, true love can reform the guy, it's also that we secretly wish we could say the mean things (and think of them in time), that we could break the rules and do whatever the hell we feel like. When we reach out for the "bad boy" we're reaching out for freedom (at least in our fantasies -- in real life we tend to be much more sensible).
Anyway, for whatever reason, Rowling has let Snape bring the snark and -- significantly -- he's one of the few whose sarcastic remarks get under Harry's skin (Dudley is another one and, in earlier books, Draco). That makes his thrusts matter in a way that, say, the twins' put-downs of Percy or Hermione's put-downs of Ron don't -- they have more dramatic energy, more force, because he's taking on Our Hero. Now, don't get me wrong... I sympathize with Harry as much as anyone and get angry on his behalf when Snape is snide to him. And yet... I can't help but see that Snape usually has a point, and that his verbal thrusts are skillful and successful. Not to mention that they're continually delivered "softly" or "silkily" or "delicately inflected" or "smoothly."
Snape verbally destroys Lockhart:
The staffroom door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.
"So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?" He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped forward.
"Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."
And Sirius:
"I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better-"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?"
"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform… gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?"
Sirius raised his wand.
"NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them. "Sirius, don't!"
"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge.
"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.
Whatever you think of him, I think you have to admire his verbal facility and self-possession.
Unattainability
Do I even have to explain this? Snape is as unattainable as they come. He's emotionally unavailable, complex, mysterious, and guided by unknown motives. It would be a challenge to earn his respect, much less his affection. Harry certainly hasn't managed it. And yet, it's not that Snape is a psychopath, incapable of human connection. He seems to feel a deep respect for Dumbledore and a kind of friendly rivalry with McGonagall. He shows evidence of fondness for both Narcissa and Draco. He loves both of his subjects -- Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. He has passionate feelings -- mostly anger -- that sometimes explode past his usual iron control.
Snape has both a mind and a heart somewhere behind that prickly exterior, if only one could find the way to it. There is no guarantee that the reward would be worth the difficulty but, you know, it might be. The possibility is intriguing.
Physical attractions
I have argued that someone can be sexy without being physically attractive, but sexual attraction needs something more to build on than smarts and snark. And with Snape, we have those things. The first is his voice -- that cold, silky, mocking voice extolling the softly simmering cauldron in barely more than a whisper, keeping the class silent without effort. Snape has a good voice.
The second is the way he sweeps around with his black robes swishing and swirling behind him.
Then there is his coloring -- black hair, pale skin, and fathomless black eyes.
And Snape is thin. And did I mention he has a silky voice?
Hey, it works for me.
When you come right down to it, this whole essay has been an exercise in futility. You fancy who you fancy because... they're the type you fancy. Or, as Dolph says of his Hannah in Cotillion, she's "got the kind of face I like."
God I love the pompous pseudo-authority of footnotes:
1. Vicky Bliss series by Elizabeth Peters.
2. Grosse Pointe Blank
3. Some movie -- can't remember the title.
4. Tradewinds by M.M. Kaye.
5. The Lymond Chronicles by Dorothy Dunnett.
6. Again, I'm blanking.
7. You figure it out.
8. Nigel Havers as The Charmer, Masterpiece Theater adaptation from a novel by Patrick Hamilton, April-June 1989.
9. We did learn in Book 5 that a lot of this was not necessarily due to intelligence, but possibly due to Snape being able to read minds. However, I was already convinced that Snape was intelligent by that time, plus I am also attracted to competence, so my affections were not at all alienated.
I think I will dispose of a couple of common objections first, and then proceed to the sad, degrading tale of my unfortunate infatuation:
But... Snape is ugly!
Yeah, so?
I can't deny that I have a weakness for a pretty face -- anyone taking even a cursory glance at my huge collection of Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp icons would immediately know me for a liar. But physical appearance isn't that important in sexual attraction. If it was, I'd have a huge crush on Gilderoy Lockhart. Okay, wait... strike that: I do kind of have a huge crush on Gilderoy Lockhart. But if appearance was everything, I'd have huge crushes on Sirius Black and Cedric Diggory, and I don't.
It's difficult in real life to avoid being influenced by looks when it comes to being attracted. It's difficult even when watching movies or television. But if you can ever do it, it should be when you read about a character in a book. In books you know characters primarily by their dialogue -- what they say and how they say it -- and (if they're a point-of-view character, which Snape isn't) by their thoughts. We might "see" Snape's oily hair or yellowed teeth once per book, but his words and actions are all over the pages.
I've never had a problem falling for plenty of fictional characters ...okay, let's just say it... fictional men who aren't described as physically attractive. Sure, some of them are what you might call "sexy-ugly" -- the tall, swarthy, and harsh-featured Mr. Rochester type, although he's not one of my heart-throbs -- but some of them are just really not that hot at all. Freddy Standen, for instance, in Georgette Heyer's Cotillion, has a weak chin, narrow shoulders, and protuberant eyes, but I love him with a mad passion. The love interest in Anne McCaffrey's The Ship Who Sang, Niall Parollan, is a short middle-aged monkeyish man, and I fancied him something awful. Cyrano de Bergerac has a nose that makes Snape's large hooked one look cute by comparison, and he can have me any time. Alejandro (Sandy) Stern of Scott Turow's Presumed Innocent and The Burden of Proof is short, stout, bald, fifty-six, and altogether lovable. And, you know, I thought the prince in Disney's Beauty and the Beast was way hotter in his enchanted form.
As a ravenous reader of fiction for thirty-five years, with a prediliction for romance, a taste for smuttiness, and a fondness for science fiction and fantasy, I've fallen vicariously in love (through identification with the heroine) with all types of men. I've been trained to be able to find a large variety of physical types attractive, non-human and human, of every conceivable ethnicity and coloring, short, tall, skinny, fat, healthy, handicapped, young, old, handsome, ugly, effiminate, brutish, fastidious, and filthy. How can someone whose first love was the eternally-grimy Spiller from The Borrowers object to a little greasy hair? And, besides, who can even mind greasy hair after watching Viggo Mortensen going around unwashed as Aragorn for three movies?
And so I reject the "too ugly" argument. But there is another, frequently made with equal or greater force:
But... Snape is mean and nasty and bullies Neville! Oh, yeah, and he was a Death Eater...
Again I say, "yeah, so?"
I must point again to my wide reading (and movie-watching) of the past few decades, and the broadening effect it has had on my tastes. I have had fictional crushes on all sorts of rascals, from the selfish and sinister Alastair father and son in Georgette Heyer's novels to Hettar, David Edding's single-minded and pitiless eliminator of the Murgo race. I have fallen in love with Sir John Smythe the career thief and swindler[1], Martin Q. Blank the professional hitman[2], Captain Jack Sparrow the bloody pirate[3], Rory Frost the slave-trader and rapist[4], Francis Crawford the perpetrator of all sorts of atrocities[5], Han Solo the mercenary who shot first[6], Sherlock Holmes the irascible and misogynist cocaine addict[7], and Ralph Gorse the heartless seducer and blackmailer[8]. Other people have found themselves attracted to Anakin Skywalker and Tom Riddle. Do we not find Warren Beatty sexy in Bonnie and Clyde, Kevin Costner in No Way Out, and Jude Law in Alfie?
And I'm supposed to eliminate Severus Snape from consideration as someone I might be attracted to because he's a mean teacher? I don't think so!
But the above simply answers the questions of why Snape's physical appearance and personality aren't necessarily a barrier to me finding him attractive. Clearly I don't fall for every unattractive, unpleasant, and morally-dubious guy I meet in fiction. Argus Filch, for instance, does nothing for me. So...
Why Snape?
To understand how I became attracted to Snape (and, remember, this essay is all about me me me ME), let's look at what I generally find attractive in real and fictional men.
1. Intelligence
This is the biggie. I'm ridiculously attracted to intelligent men -- in real life, in books, in movies, everywhere. I always go for "the smart one." In particular, I'm attracted to verbal fluency and verbal skills, in real life and in fiction.
2. Competence
I'm attracted to men who can do things well, who have skills and talents and an air of calm authority. In fiction, I have a long history of falling in love with men who solve mysteries.
3. Dry humor
I'm drawn to men who make me laugh, and especially men who are funny with a straight face. I like sarcasm, and I can't help liking witty barbs and put-down humor. I also like pointed "message" humor -- think Jon Stewart -- better than lighthearted silly humor -- think Jim Carrey.
4. Unattainability
Okay, maybe it's not healthy, but I'm drawn to the hard-to-get and the reserved. In real life, I'm drawn to men who might not show much interest in me, especially at first, and who are hard-to-read. In books, I'm drawn to characters whose inner lives and motives are hidden, characters who are stand-offish to the other characters. I very rarely become attracted to a point-of-view character -- that just takes all the mystery away.
So how does all that lead to Snape? I'll run down the list:
Intelligence
An important thing to remember is that I fell in love with Snape in the first book. Snape might not be the most intelligent character in the series -- I'd award that palm to Dumbledore, with Riddle/Voldemort in the running -- but he really made a good showing in Book 1. Remember the main mystery of the book? Snape had that one solved by Halloween. He knew Quirrell was trying to steal the Stone and was already (successfully) trying to stop him. Our hero Harry, you might remember, didn't make that connection until... well, he never made it -- Quirrell had to tell him. Hermione didn't make it either, and we have no particular indication that Dumbledore did. Snape was the "brilliant detective" in Book 1.
And he didn't become less smart as the series progressed. Snape is almost always the one who figures out what Harry is up to and catches him in wrongdoing [9]. Harry even describes him as "putting two and two together, as only Snape could...." Be still, my heart! And Hermione is even more complimentary:
"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."
Clearly, Severus Snape is not one of them.
We have several scenes where Snape just kind of looks intelligent. This, for instance:
Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it.
and this:
"And what are you two doing here?" said Snape, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. "An odd place to meet-" To Harry's immense disquiet, Snape's black eyes flicked to the doorways on either side of them, and then to the one-eyed witch.
and this:
Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius's wand-tip to his face.
To use a distinction popular in the fandom recently, not only are we told that Snape is smart, we're repeatedly shown him in the act of thinking.
And then there's the Half-Blood Prince material... this happened too late in the series for it to be responsible for my Snape-love, but it sure didn't diminish it any. The guy is a Potions genius. He has the kind of intelligence I most admire -- not the kind of intelligence Hermione has (and I have myself, actually), but the kind Fred and George have -- creative intelligence. Again, we are shown this, in great detail. For some reason, Rowling devoted a lot of page space to showing us how Snape's brain works.
Snape is also a pretty eloquent guy, on occasion:
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.
...As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
and:
“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."
Mmmmmmm....
Oh, pardon me. Okay, so... Snape is smart. Everyone agrees to that. And I'm attracted to smart men. He is also shown to be extraordinarily competent.
Competence
Snape is good enough at two different subjects to be unquestionably qualified to teach them at Hogwarts. Again and again in the text, we get direct statements about Snape's competence:
"Why -?" Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question. "I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."
and:
"Look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round and reaching Harry last. "And listen…" he lowered his voice while the rest of them exchanged last minute goodbyes with Tonks, "Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all - Sirius included - want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, all right?"
and:
"...Had she put it on, had she even held it in her ungloved hand, she would have died, perhaps instantly. Luckily Professor Snape was able to do enough to prevent a rapid spread of the curse-"
..."Professor Snape knows much more about the Dark Arts than Madam Pomfrey, Harry."
Snape displays quite a talent for healing in Book 6. Dumbledore credits him with saving his life after he was damaged by the Horcrux curse and with saving Katie Bell from the cursed necklace, and we see him heal Draco Malfoy from the Sectumsempra curse.
Snape is even good at teaching. Yes, I agree, he's not good at teaching a student like Neville Longbottom, but the text repeatedly portrays him as a competent teacher:
He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "
and:
"Well, the class seem fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly to Snape's back. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."
and:
[after Snape's first DADA class]"Harry," Ernie said portentously, holding out his hand as Harry approached, "didn't get a chance to speak in Defense Against The Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought, but Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old D.A. lags . . . And how are you, Ron-Hermione?"
I think it is notable -- especially looking back over all the incompetent Defence teachers we've seen, that Harry went a whole year without finding anything to complain about or object to in Snape's teaching -- except that he disagreed with him on the best way to fight Dementors. Not only does Harry hate Snape, but he obviously knows the crucial importance of teaching DADA at the current time. And still, he has no fault to find.
And, of course, Snape is a good spy -- so good, in fact, that he has managed to become the trusted right-hand man of both of the most powerful wizards of his time. On opposite sides. Simultaneously.
Finally, Snape is competent, more than competent, at the sexiest thing a guy in the wizarding world can be good at (well, besides sex itself) -- he's great at wandplay dueling. And if I started falling for Severus Snape in Book 1, the "Dueling Club" chapter in Book 2 made sure I wouldn't get up again. When Snape knocks Lockhart off the stage, it is (I believe) the first time we see a fully-qualified adult wizard lift a wand in anger. And Harry is impressed:
Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
And then in Book 6 we really see Snape in action and he utterly dominates Harry, to the point where I'd have to put him only below Dumbledore and Voldemort as the best duelist we've seen in action. Snape easily blocks Harry's curses, recognizes and blocks his non-verbal curse, and otherwise totally owns him:
Snape shouted, "Run, Draco!" and turned. Twenty yards apart, he and Harry looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.
"Cruc-"
But Snape parried the curse, knocking Harry backward off his feet before he could complete it;
..."Cruc-" yelled Harry for the second time, aiming for the figure ahead illuminated in the dancing firelight, but Snape blocked the spell again.
..."Incarc-" Harry roared, but Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm.
..."Stupe-"
"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more.
...Harry uttered an inarticulate yell of rage: In that instant, he cared not whether he lived or died. Pushing himself to his feet again, he staggered blindly toward Snape, the man he now hated as much as he hated Voldemort himself-
"Sectum-"
Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again;
...Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-
"No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand.
...Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.
"Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward -"
Granted, Harry is still just a kid, but he put up a much better show than that every other time he's been in action. Rowling chose to show Snape dominating Harry without even needing to fight back and to write things like "Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm." Does she want me to fancy him?
Dry humor
The Harry Potter books are a good place to be for someone who finds sarcastic quips and put-downs sexy. Using that criterion, I could fancy Harry, or Ron, or Draco, or Sirius, or Fred-and-George, or (if I swung that way) Hermione or Ginny. But Severus Snape certainly qualifies as well. There are certain kinds of dialogue exchange that I am particularly vulnerable to -- things Georgette Heyer constantly gives to her soigné Regency heroes. One of them is the character who enters on a set-up line which he can cap. Like this:
"Hang on ..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table.... Where's Snape?"
..."Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.
"Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"
"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him-"
"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
Or this:
"...Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was...."
"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"
"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.
Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.
Another is the "I can't believe he said that" insult -- brutal frankness in a calm bored voice. Like this:
"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 at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."
Way harsh, Tai, and yet... almost against my will, I laughed. If I may inject an aside here, I think that's one of the main reasons for the "bad boy syndrome" -- it's not only that we silly girls think that our pure, true love can reform the guy, it's also that we secretly wish we could say the mean things (and think of them in time), that we could break the rules and do whatever the hell we feel like. When we reach out for the "bad boy" we're reaching out for freedom (at least in our fantasies -- in real life we tend to be much more sensible).
Anyway, for whatever reason, Rowling has let Snape bring the snark and -- significantly -- he's one of the few whose sarcastic remarks get under Harry's skin (Dudley is another one and, in earlier books, Draco). That makes his thrusts matter in a way that, say, the twins' put-downs of Percy or Hermione's put-downs of Ron don't -- they have more dramatic energy, more force, because he's taking on Our Hero. Now, don't get me wrong... I sympathize with Harry as much as anyone and get angry on his behalf when Snape is snide to him. And yet... I can't help but see that Snape usually has a point, and that his verbal thrusts are skillful and successful. Not to mention that they're continually delivered "softly" or "silkily" or "delicately inflected" or "smoothly."
Snape verbally destroys Lockhart:
The staffroom door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.
"So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?" He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped forward.
"Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."
And Sirius:
"I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better-"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?"
"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform… gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?"
Sirius raised his wand.
"NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them. "Sirius, don't!"
"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge.
"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.
Whatever you think of him, I think you have to admire his verbal facility and self-possession.
Unattainability
Do I even have to explain this? Snape is as unattainable as they come. He's emotionally unavailable, complex, mysterious, and guided by unknown motives. It would be a challenge to earn his respect, much less his affection. Harry certainly hasn't managed it. And yet, it's not that Snape is a psychopath, incapable of human connection. He seems to feel a deep respect for Dumbledore and a kind of friendly rivalry with McGonagall. He shows evidence of fondness for both Narcissa and Draco. He loves both of his subjects -- Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. He has passionate feelings -- mostly anger -- that sometimes explode past his usual iron control.
Snape has both a mind and a heart somewhere behind that prickly exterior, if only one could find the way to it. There is no guarantee that the reward would be worth the difficulty but, you know, it might be. The possibility is intriguing.
Physical attractions
I have argued that someone can be sexy without being physically attractive, but sexual attraction needs something more to build on than smarts and snark. And with Snape, we have those things. The first is his voice -- that cold, silky, mocking voice extolling the softly simmering cauldron in barely more than a whisper, keeping the class silent without effort. Snape has a good voice.
The second is the way he sweeps around with his black robes swishing and swirling behind him.
Then there is his coloring -- black hair, pale skin, and fathomless black eyes.
And Snape is thin. And did I mention he has a silky voice?
Hey, it works for me.
When you come right down to it, this whole essay has been an exercise in futility. You fancy who you fancy because... they're the type you fancy. Or, as Dolph says of his Hannah in Cotillion, she's "got the kind of face I like."
God I love the pompous pseudo-authority of footnotes:
1. Vicky Bliss series by Elizabeth Peters.
2. Grosse Pointe Blank
3. Some movie -- can't remember the title.
4. Tradewinds by M.M. Kaye.
5. The Lymond Chronicles by Dorothy Dunnett.
6. Again, I'm blanking.
7. You figure it out.
8. Nigel Havers as The Charmer, Masterpiece Theater adaptation from a novel by Patrick Hamilton, April-June 1989.
9. We did learn in Book 5 that a lot of this was not necessarily due to intelligence, but possibly due to Snape being able to read minds. However, I was already convinced that Snape was intelligent by that time, plus I am also attracted to competence, so my affections were not at all alienated.