Why Do The Redemption Arcs Fail in Harry Potter?

Harry Potter features the outright or implied redemptions of several characters—most notably Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, and Regulus Black.

But, even in the cases where the character is supposed to have made a complete switch, their motivations and behaviors still don’t make complete sense with someone who’s begun to understood the evil they’ve committed, and wishes to make up for it.

Redemption is a tricky subject, and it requires a good amount of investment in a character—establishing who they once were, how they came to be, and why they’ll eventually decide to turn back.

But it’s based on a simple core foundation—the presence, or lack of, empathy.

The one thing the narrative of Harry Potter consistently fails to understand about the difference between villains and heroes is empathy.

There’s a much bigger analysis diving into more than just a handful of characters; but for now, we’re going to focus on this shortcoming as it applies to the men mentioned above.

On a very basic level, Rowling might understand something about this concept, because she’s claimed Voldemort doesn’t possess the ability to feel love.

And while love can serve as an umbrella term for the differences between heroes and villains, it doesn’t encompass the exact nuance that really separates the behavior between “good” and “bad” characters. Simply feeling positive emotions towards someone else doesn’t guarantee that someone will realize their actions are wrong and change for the better. Plenty of villains have friends or family they care about.

Empathy is the more specific difference. A villain doesn’t have the ability to feel it—whether they lack it to begin with, choose to repress it, or their circumstances have beaten it out of them.

Empathy keeps people from hurting others—it makes them hesitate when they think of taking advantage of people. It allows them to humanize others.

The three characters I will discuss—Draco, Snape, and Regulus—all start with a glaring lack of empathy for anyone other than themselves.

Draco was raised to think he was better than everybody else. He’s been steeped in pureblood ideology since birth. His empathy for others has been worked down to only empathy for those like him.

Regulus, like Draco, was born into a family of pureblood sympathizers, and raised from infancy to look down upon anyone who was different.

Snape possesses some empathy, as evidenced by his friendship with Lily. But his was marred with a selfishness and an attraction to pureblood ideology. His love for Lily was more about his own desires than anything. His main concern in their relationship was how Lily felt about him, regardless of whether or not she was happy with what he had done. He didn’t want to change his ways, even if his pureblood beliefs had hurt her as a muggle. Neither her friendship nor her disapproval were enough for Snape to reconsider his moral stance.

Villains who redeem themselves experience a moment—a catalyst—where they realize they were wrong. They don’t have to change suddenly all at once; but the epiphany plants a seed, which continues to grow as the story goes on.

Seeds are set in place for these three characters—but none of them ever change beyond that initial moment.

Draco experiences his first doubt about the Death Eaters when he’s forced to kill Dumbledore. He’s not chosen because he’s competent, or the decision reflects a tactical advantage—it’s a punishment to Lucius for failing to retrieve the prophecy.

This is when Draco first realizes that the group is callous, and not the safest association for him and his family.

The problem is that he never takes that next step to wonder about all the other people who’ve been hurt by the Death Eaters. He never applies his newfound concern to the groups’ victims; just to people within his circle. He’s upset that he’s in danger, but he doesn’t allow the feelings to lead to any sort of questioning. The only decent thing Draco ends up doing is choosing not to reveal that the Death Eaters have captured Harry in Deathly Hallows.

Whatever his motivation for that scene was, though, it never seemed to catapult him anywhere else. Later in the book, when Draco corners Harry and his friends in the Room of Requirement as they search for the Ravenclaw diadem, he still tries to kill them. We have no concrete evidence that Draco really grew as a person.

Regulus feels bad that Voldemort hurt his house-elf Kreacher. When he found out what his master needed Kreacher for, he was enraged enough to betray Voldemort and steal the locket Horcrux.

But Regulus never made the jump from caring about someone he personally knew and loved, to sympathizing with any other victims of Voldemort’s cruelty. While he ended up dying shortly after removing the Horcrux, he still never thought to entertain the pain the other victims must have gone through long before he did.

Snape ended up working with Dumbledore and betraying Voldemort in the most effective way of all. But he showed no care for anyone along the way, save for Lily (albeit in a fucked-up, obsessive kind of way) and the Slytherin students. He dedicated himself to his new cause thanks to Lily; but he never nurtured any empathy for anyone else hurt by Voldemort or the Death Eaters.

If Draco and especially Snape were supposed to start turning to the good side, then they should have started showing signs of empathy for other people. They didn’t have to grow to love everyone they met; but they should’ve displayed some sign that they understood innocent people didn’t deserve to get hurt either.

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