We have all seen Harry Potter 7. If you think you haven’t or can’t recall something, no reason to worry. You will still know what I am talking about here.
A scene from the movie which struck me the most and is embedded in my head is the one with Snape solemnly confessing “Always.” Quite a tearjerker.
And that, when I don’t cry easy in movies. Generally, it’d take a dying guide dog trying to comfort a fatally injured bed-ridden blind kid to make me go *sniff*…. I am kidding, of course. Just the dying dog might be enough – Images from “Marley and Me” cropping up in my head already 😦
But, back to the point I was trying to make. Snape loved Harry’s mother, but unfortunately, wasn’t Harry’s daddy. (Except for the times he’d kick Harry’s ass at freestyle rap and go “Who’s yo daddy now, beyatch?”)
Jokes aside, I truly felt for the guy. He loved a woman who he could not ever be with, a fact that he knew well. His was a hand that reached out, forever waiting for another to hold it, and to make him complete. No matter what the odds, he gave off a sense that he genuinely felt that there was always hope around the corner. It was a love you don’t see of too often. His was also a love that one wishes one would feel for someone or have someone feel for one, some day in the not too distant future. A feeling so intense that it would transcend not just space and time, but the barrier between life and death, a feeling too powerful to be explained or to be grasped, so as to be able to let go of it. Snape loved like no other, and no other could love like Snape.
It would be the epitome of the word “love”, no doubts, but it begs a question. Could it be that it was so because it was simply undisturbed by the tribulations of reality, of an involved relationship?