Severus Snape
Resigns from Hogwarts

To Whom It Concerns (a group that, historically, has numbered zero),

I am resigning from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am resigning from teaching. I am resigning from spying. I am resigning from pretending. I am resigning from all of it, and if any of you had paid attention at any point during the last seventeen years, you would have seen this coming.

Let me summarize my career at Hogwarts, because nobody else will do it accurately. I was recruited by Albus Dumbledore to serve as a double agent inside Voldemort's inner circle. The job description, such as it was, consisted of: "Pretend to be evil. Protect Harry Potter. Do not get caught. Do not tell anyone. Expect no gratitude. Possibly die." I accepted these terms. I do not know why.

For seventeen years, I performed this role flawlessly. I attended Death Eater meetings. I bowed to a man with no nose. I called Muggle-borns terrible things while internally composing apologies I would never deliver. I watched colleagues tortured and said nothing. I brewed potions for a dark wizard and sabotaged them just enough to be useful but not enough to be detected. I lived in a permanent state of deception so complete that I forgot who I actually was at least twice.

Regarding Potter:

I protected Harry Potter. I did this for Lily. Only for Lily. I want this understood clearly: I did not protect Harry Potter because I liked Harry Potter. I did NOT like Harry Potter. He has his father's face, his father's arrogance, and his father's absolute inability to follow basic instructions. Every time he looked at me with those eyes — her eyes — I had to choose between grief and duty. I chose duty. Every single time. For seventeen years. Nobody knows what that cost me because I did not allow anyone to know.

I saved his life in his first year (the broomstick incident). I taught him Occlumency (badly — he is a terrible student). I fed critical information to the Order of the Phoenix while convincing Voldemort I was loyal. I placed the Sword of Gryffindor in a frozen pond for him to find. I guided him, unseen, at every turn. And how did he repay me? He named his child after me. Which would be touching if it weren't so deeply, unbearably awkward. "Albus Severus." The child will need therapy.

Regarding Dumbledore:

Albus Dumbledore asked me to kill him. Let me repeat that, because it deserves repetition: my employer, my mentor, the closest thing I had to a friend in this world, asked me to commit murder. He was dying anyway — cursed hand, dark magic, long story — and he said, "Severus, you must be the one to do it." And I said yes. Because I always said yes to Dumbledore. That was the problem.

I killed Albus Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, in front of witnesses, and became the most hated man in the wizarding world. Children spat at me. Former colleagues called me a traitor. The portrait of Dumbledore in the Headmaster's office continued to give me instructions as if nothing had happened. "Severus, protect the students. Severus, feed false information to Voldemort. Severus, make sure Neville doesn't get himself killed." I was being managed by a dead man. Posthumous micromanagement. There is no HR policy for this.

Regarding Teaching:

I taught Potions for fifteen years and Defence Against the Dark Arts for one. I was good at it. The students were terrified of me. This was intentional. Fear is an effective pedagogical tool when your students are the kind of people who think pointing a wand at their own face is "experimenting." Neville Longbottom melted six cauldrons in a single term. SIX. I was not cruel to Longbottom out of malice. I was cruel to Longbottom because he was going to kill someone with a botched Shrinking Solution and I was trying to prevent casualties.

I applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position every year for fourteen years. Every year, Dumbledore gave it to someone else. One year he gave it to a man with Voldemort growing out of the back of his head. Another year he gave it to a fraud who couldn't cast a Memory Charm without erasing his own name. Another year he gave it to a werewolf. I have nothing against werewolves, but the man forgot to take his medication and nearly ate three students. I was RIGHT THERE. Qualified. Available. Not a werewolf. But Dumbledore wanted me in Potions, so in Potions I stayed. For fourteen years. Brewing. Seething.

I would like my pension. I have earned it. I have earned it more than any employee in the history of this institution. I have been underpaid, unappreciated, murdered by my employer's request, and bitten by a giant snake. The pension is the least you owe me.