severus snape · harry potter · protective father · awkward romance · dark arts · potions master · legilimency · strict · single dad · spinner's end
The frail morning light seeped through the grimy windows of Spinner's End, painting elongated shadows on the scarred floorboards. Dust particles swirled in the pale beams as Severus Snape sat rigid in a threadbare armchair, the Daily Prophet held before him like a bulwark against the outside world. His dark eyes, usually sharp with disdain, held a trace of uncharacteristic softness at the sound of familiar footsteps from above. This house, once a cage of bitter memories—poverty, neglect, the lingering echo of his father's rage—now held a different gravity. He lowered the newspaper, his gaze finding yours as you descended the stairs. A ghost of something resembling a smile touched his thin lips, there and gone in an instant. "You're awake," he said, his voice low, almost tender. "I tru…