Indestructible - Part III
Albus was a man who in certain ways passed the greater part of his own moral struggle and burdens onto Severus Snape, among others. He used the man, ruthlessly, as a mirror and a tool to shield himself from himself, from the full weight of the consequences of his own actions and errors.
His handling of one Tom Riddle, and refusal to be direct about addressing the problem because it would reveal his own complicity in creating it; his conduct as headmaster of Hogwarts and handling of the abuse Severus, among others, received there; the vilification of a quarter of the student population and adulation of another quarter that he encouraged, feeding into the war machine two streams of child victims, to be used by Tom and himself; his refusal to fully acknowledge and own up to the real errors of his that led to his sister’s death and what he needed to do in response, and his shunting-off of the echo of that work onto Severus Snape; his handling of the prophecy matter and the lives of his subordinates, which led in part to the deaths for which he held only Severus Snape (the only truly repentant one) fully responsible; his handling of the child delivered into his care, Harry, and the curse that marked him…
In so many ways the greatest difficulties of Severus’ life were created or driven in large part by Albus Dumbledore, and yet in response Albus offloaded all of the moral work and heavy lifting onto him. Betraying him, repeatedly.
Ultimately unto death, if we are to go with the straightforward reading of canon. (Hey! No body, no portrait - Severus lives! If you like to so believe.)
Because of Albus’ own obsession with controlling death, and his folly in attempting to do so.
Rather like Tommy Riddle, one can’t help but note.
Both obsessed with beating death, from different directions originally but ending up at the same place, unconsciously subordinating life to death, in different forms. And encouraging others to.
Whereas Severus’ encounter, or encounters, with death in its various forms had quite a different effect. From death he ultimately chose to wring life, on many levels and in many ways, for as many people as he could. Including, at the last, himself.
But it was Albus’ folly and obsession with the Hallows that did push him into his final encounters with it, and that through Tom Riddle’s unflagging pursuit of hollow life finally killed him. Physically, that is, for he did ultimately triumph over the spiritual peril he sensed. No thanks to Albus.
It’s not just Albus’ bizarre handling of the Deathstick, either. That only came back to bite Severus the way it did because of the terrible position Albus had forced him into with his handling of the Stone. (Shades of the past... And set during HBP, though we learn about it fully later. That whole book is about the danger of shades of the past, even more than its twin CoS.) Caught by the intersection of his own folly and Tom's deadly ruthlessness, Albus forced Severus into a choice that he had no right whatsoever to demand, one that Severus understood as threatening him with another, to his mind graver, form of death if he failed to choose or chose wrongly. Spiritual death, weighed against physical death. Shared between he, Albus, and Draco. And, though only Severus, not Albus, seems to have really noted it, also Harry Potter, in echo.
For all the little that Severus found he could do about that aspect of it, now, at this late date, he did try to reach Harry. He did see the boy's peril, and try to avert it. While considering his own, and Draco's, peril, and the choice Albus and Tom had forced upon them. And that he himself had, too.
For Severus, with that terrible courage and discipline of his, in response to the call to care for and protect another, responded to Albus' betrayal (the first one that year of several, as it turned out) by forcing himself to meet the choice in the only, or at least best, way it seems he knew how: he bound himself, unto death, to know and to choose. By year's end. With a vow. (How...dare I say monastic of you, Severus my dear.)
If terri's right about that little scene in Spinner's End, indeed he may have deliberately set up that binding, for, I suspect, as much his own as Draco's sake. However little anyone around him may have grasped that particular aspect of the situation at the time, and what it reveals about how Severus then understood and approached the question of his own virtue.
The man we get glimpses of in books 6 and 7 is a man fighting - and ultimately winning - a life and death spiritual struggle. A struggle that is, for the most part, unseen and uncomprehended by Harry - especially then but to a degree even afterward, after Severus has given him a little more insight into himself. (A little - you don't think that handful of memories is all there is to it, do you? For a man as complicated at Severus Snape?)
Because, while Severus is fighting, with himself, for his present and future selves and trying to for Draco’s, as much as Draco will let him, Harry is confronting echoes of Severus’ past, worse, selves. And is, for the most part, failing to recognize the nature of what is happening to himself as a result. Despite attempts to get him to.
No wonder Severus’ little lesson on the nature of the struggle in DADA went over his head. In this book Harry is deliberately closing his eyes and ears to the spiritual guidance he is offered. Lying, cheating, attacking the defenceless for his own amusement, acting without thought... Nearly killing another, and resenting the quite lenient attempt at correction he's forced to undergo as a result, as well as his own acknowledged friends' attempts to get him to wake up. Stubborn in his error. Much to Severus’ frustration and anger - and, no doubt, fear. (I've long thought, after all, that it was not only echoes of James that Severus hated and feared to see in Harry.)
Though Harry does pick up hints, interestingly, of what is happening to Draco in his struggle. Now and then.
How he responds...
Well. Um.
I imagine the scene Severus discovered in the bathroom horrified him on a number of levels, and made him question again certain aspects of his own handling of the Boy Who Lived, among other things. Made him confront again the question of what it means to have someone in your care, and to protect them. Against what dangers does he need to protect his charges, ultimately, and what is an acceptable cost to pay in so doing? When he has four lives, in particular, in his hands at that moment, and potentially many more.
That was a very difficult year for Severus. Almost as difficult as the one that followed. The one whose trials he was already foreseeing, and preparing for. In case he got that far, after confronting Albus.
Which he did. And beyond. He fought, at times bitterly, but well.
Alone.
Until the very end, that is. When his grace came finally through, and he did win, again. For and mainly with his own love.
I have some dark thoughts on the full extent of the struggle that Severus faced, or at least feared he might be facing, however. (It is greatly to his credit that he recognized it, as I believe he did.) But before I turn directly to those I think I'll be detouring through some related questions first, to set it all up properly. Argh so many pieces to fit together.
His handling of one Tom Riddle, and refusal to be direct about addressing the problem because it would reveal his own complicity in creating it; his conduct as headmaster of Hogwarts and handling of the abuse Severus, among others, received there; the vilification of a quarter of the student population and adulation of another quarter that he encouraged, feeding into the war machine two streams of child victims, to be used by Tom and himself; his refusal to fully acknowledge and own up to the real errors of his that led to his sister’s death and what he needed to do in response, and his shunting-off of the echo of that work onto Severus Snape; his handling of the prophecy matter and the lives of his subordinates, which led in part to the deaths for which he held only Severus Snape (the only truly repentant one) fully responsible; his handling of the child delivered into his care, Harry, and the curse that marked him…
In so many ways the greatest difficulties of Severus’ life were created or driven in large part by Albus Dumbledore, and yet in response Albus offloaded all of the moral work and heavy lifting onto him. Betraying him, repeatedly.
Ultimately unto death, if we are to go with the straightforward reading of canon. (Hey! No body, no portrait - Severus lives! If you like to so believe.)
Because of Albus’ own obsession with controlling death, and his folly in attempting to do so.
Rather like Tommy Riddle, one can’t help but note.
Both obsessed with beating death, from different directions originally but ending up at the same place, unconsciously subordinating life to death, in different forms. And encouraging others to.
Whereas Severus’ encounter, or encounters, with death in its various forms had quite a different effect. From death he ultimately chose to wring life, on many levels and in many ways, for as many people as he could. Including, at the last, himself.
But it was Albus’ folly and obsession with the Hallows that did push him into his final encounters with it, and that through Tom Riddle’s unflagging pursuit of hollow life finally killed him. Physically, that is, for he did ultimately triumph over the spiritual peril he sensed. No thanks to Albus.
It’s not just Albus’ bizarre handling of the Deathstick, either. That only came back to bite Severus the way it did because of the terrible position Albus had forced him into with his handling of the Stone. (Shades of the past... And set during HBP, though we learn about it fully later. That whole book is about the danger of shades of the past, even more than its twin CoS.) Caught by the intersection of his own folly and Tom's deadly ruthlessness, Albus forced Severus into a choice that he had no right whatsoever to demand, one that Severus understood as threatening him with another, to his mind graver, form of death if he failed to choose or chose wrongly. Spiritual death, weighed against physical death. Shared between he, Albus, and Draco. And, though only Severus, not Albus, seems to have really noted it, also Harry Potter, in echo.
For all the little that Severus found he could do about that aspect of it, now, at this late date, he did try to reach Harry. He did see the boy's peril, and try to avert it. While considering his own, and Draco's, peril, and the choice Albus and Tom had forced upon them. And that he himself had, too.
For Severus, with that terrible courage and discipline of his, in response to the call to care for and protect another, responded to Albus' betrayal (the first one that year of several, as it turned out) by forcing himself to meet the choice in the only, or at least best, way it seems he knew how: he bound himself, unto death, to know and to choose. By year's end. With a vow. (How...dare I say monastic of you, Severus my dear.)
If terri's right about that little scene in Spinner's End, indeed he may have deliberately set up that binding, for, I suspect, as much his own as Draco's sake. However little anyone around him may have grasped that particular aspect of the situation at the time, and what it reveals about how Severus then understood and approached the question of his own virtue.
The man we get glimpses of in books 6 and 7 is a man fighting - and ultimately winning - a life and death spiritual struggle. A struggle that is, for the most part, unseen and uncomprehended by Harry - especially then but to a degree even afterward, after Severus has given him a little more insight into himself. (A little - you don't think that handful of memories is all there is to it, do you? For a man as complicated at Severus Snape?)
Because, while Severus is fighting, with himself, for his present and future selves and trying to for Draco’s, as much as Draco will let him, Harry is confronting echoes of Severus’ past, worse, selves. And is, for the most part, failing to recognize the nature of what is happening to himself as a result. Despite attempts to get him to.
No wonder Severus’ little lesson on the nature of the struggle in DADA went over his head. In this book Harry is deliberately closing his eyes and ears to the spiritual guidance he is offered. Lying, cheating, attacking the defenceless for his own amusement, acting without thought... Nearly killing another, and resenting the quite lenient attempt at correction he's forced to undergo as a result, as well as his own acknowledged friends' attempts to get him to wake up. Stubborn in his error. Much to Severus’ frustration and anger - and, no doubt, fear. (I've long thought, after all, that it was not only echoes of James that Severus hated and feared to see in Harry.)
Though Harry does pick up hints, interestingly, of what is happening to Draco in his struggle. Now and then.
How he responds...
Well. Um.
I imagine the scene Severus discovered in the bathroom horrified him on a number of levels, and made him question again certain aspects of his own handling of the Boy Who Lived, among other things. Made him confront again the question of what it means to have someone in your care, and to protect them. Against what dangers does he need to protect his charges, ultimately, and what is an acceptable cost to pay in so doing? When he has four lives, in particular, in his hands at that moment, and potentially many more.
That was a very difficult year for Severus. Almost as difficult as the one that followed. The one whose trials he was already foreseeing, and preparing for. In case he got that far, after confronting Albus.
Which he did. And beyond. He fought, at times bitterly, but well.
Alone.
Until the very end, that is. When his grace came finally through, and he did win, again. For and mainly with his own love.
I have some dark thoughts on the full extent of the struggle that Severus faced, or at least feared he might be facing, however. (It is greatly to his credit that he recognized it, as I believe he did.) But before I turn directly to those I think I'll be detouring through some related questions first, to set it all up properly. Argh so many pieces to fit together.