the-professor's-house

Little something I’ve drawn after the passing of the incredible Alan Rickman. We’ll remember you. Always.

Haven’t posted it before because I might continue this drawing.

Tagging some snape-related blogs I reaaaaally like because Snape is the best and why not
@severusnapers
@severus-snape-love
@professor-of-slytherin-house
@ssdefense
@obviouslysnape
@accio-professorsnape
@death-by-snape
@snapebae
@severus-snape-my-eternal-prince @theworldofseverussnape
@severussnapeandco

(jennydgnss is my IG/deviantart/snapchat name)

There was perpetual twilight back there, cool, shadowy, very grateful after the blazing sun in the front court-yard. When we entered it we heard a soft trickling sound, and we came upon a spring that welled out of the rock into a stone basin and then ran off through a cobble-lined gutter and dripped down the cliffs. I’ve never anywhere tasted water like it; as cold as ice, and so pure. Long afterward Father Duchene came out to spend a week with us on the mesa; he always carried a small drinking-glass with him, and he used to fill it at the spring and take it out into the sunlight. The water looked like liquid crystal, absolutely colourless, without the slight brownish or greenish tint that water nearly always has. It threw off the sunlight like a diamond.
—  Willa Cather, The Professor’s House (Vintage Classics, 1990)
The moving was over and done. Professor St. Peter was alone in the dismantled house where he had lived ever since his marriage, where he had worked out his career and brought up his two daughters. It was almost as ugly as it is possible for a house to be: square, three stories in height, painted the colour of ashes—the front porch just too narrow for comfort, with a slanting floor and sagging steps.
—  Willa Cather, The Professor’s House

Uh, so I drew a thing. I’ve always loved the way that these four represent Hogwarts so well… They’re perfect for their respective houses.

Descole has been working towards his goal from a young age, and tends to play the chess master. One gets the feeling that, in each game, he is one step ahead of Layton until the end. Plus, he’s quite determined. Here, he’s reading because it reminds me of the picture in AL where he’s surrounded by stacks of books as a child.

Emmy is definitely brave. She runs headlong into danger and will go great lengths to protect those she loves. She tends to fit the traditional Gryffindor stereotype too; she’s brash and can have a bit of a temper, plus she’s very forward and blunt. I figured quidditch was an obvious choice, and she’s a seeker because, though she seems very together and happy with herself, she’s still searching for what she wants, and she still has to make decisions about who and what she values most.

Layton literally adores knowledge and wit. He’s well known for his wisdom and puzzle solving genius, and has worked hard to become so knowledgeable. Not only that, but he encourages others to hone their skills and think logically. His patronus is a sea turtle because they’re supposed to represent wisdom. I felt that having two owls next to each other would be a little much, and I’d already drawn Luke. :\

Lastly, Luke is certainly a Hufflepuff. He’s honest and loyal to the core. This really shines through when, (SPOILERS - even after Emmy held a knife to his throat, he’s unwilling to believe that she completely betrayed them.) Plus, he would never let anyone say anything bad about Layton. Hufflepuffs also tend to have an affinity for nature, and I’d say Luke’s ability to talk to animals qualifies. Not to mention his kindness towards everyone he meets… as long as they justly deserve it. And maybe even if they don’t.

Sorry for taking so long. Oh, and if this ever gets around to a better artist, I’d love to see a better version of this. :) (But you don’t have to, of course.)

Today’s library read: The Professor’s House, by Willa Cather (1925)

…“‘You, you too?’ He breathed in amazement. He took up one of her gloves and began drawing it out through her fingers. She said nothing, but he saw her lip quiver, and she turned away and began looking at the house through the glasses. …He wished he knew just how it seemed to be her. He had been mistaken, he felt. The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one’s own.”(P.I, Ch.VIII).