Dull my blades. I am tired of the hunt.
I’ve laid my only words at your feet. Open for me.
I want to know, be known. Want and be wanted."
— Jeanann Verlee, from “Your Mouth Is a Church, I Forgot How to Pray,” Nailed (July 21, 2014)
ok so what if Harry and Neville got into like this passive-aggressive lie-off regarding what a truly great man Severus Snape was like they got drunk and Harry was like ‘Snape though’ and Neville was like ‘I know right’ and Harry was like ‘what a… what a fantastic bastard. What a guy.’ and Neville was like ‘we should fuckin’ get him like, like… let’s have a funeral. A huge fucking fuck-off sized funeral with like, lilies, and, a marble coffin, and a big statue, an’ crying women, an’ all that shit’ and Harry got whiskey up his nose laughing so hard and he falls off his stool and just wheezes 'lillies'
and then during the funeral Neville and Harry like spend the whole time trying to give a better eulogy like they keep getting back up after each other are done to try and have another go at it but then they get schooled by Hermione being like ‘for fuck’s sake boys this is how it’s done’ and she goes up to the podium and just bursts into wild banshee hysterics and throws herself across the glistening marble casket, sobbing ‘oh, it should have been me, would to god that it were me, you stallion of a professor’ and all the reporters tear up a little and then go home to pen really fervid biopics on this bleakly noble and tragically overlooked hero of the revolution
anyway like eighteen years later Harry names his kid after Severus and sends an owl off to Neville like ‘your move, mate’ and Nevill pauses in the middle of polishing the giant marble statue of Snape tenderly cuddling an armfull of adoring woodland creatures that dominates like 2/3 of his office to cuss a lot and pour himself another drink