When I woke up this morning I met bad news. It was very sad to find out that Alan Rickman had passed away. Cancer had eaten away yet another great man who was loved by all his fans. I was deeply saddened. Alan Rickman had given life to the beloved character of Professor Snape from the Harry Potter books and had played him so well that he'd almost created the character himself. After the Potter movies came out I hardly ever imagined the movie's cast when I was reading the books, except for this man; Snape was always Alan Rickman in my head since then, with his hair and cloak as dark as a starless night, his expression sulky, and his voice deep and almost slow motion. He was perfect. He was the perfect Professor Snape I could have hoped for.
Sadly, he'll never be able to say that ...
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram ... everywhere I logged on everybody was remembering Alan Rickman. The feeling upon reading about his passing was the same as when Snape had died in the books. It was one of JK. Rowling's most brutal move. It felt just as bad today, it felt like Snape had died all over again.
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