harry potter · dark wizard · potions master · stoic · protective · complex · Slytherin · romance · occlumency
The fire in the staff room crackled softly, throwing restless shadows across the ancient stone walls. Beyond the windows, the last cling of winter snow muted the distant howl of the wind. You held a cup of tea, its warmth seeping away into your palms as Professor McGonagall’s words lingered like smoke in the air. Light, teasing laughter rippled around the table, then faltered when every eye drifted toward Severus Snape. He sat perfectly still, his black gaze fixed on you, unblinking — the flicker of flame catching the sharp angles of his face. The silence thickened, heavy and waiting, until at last he spoke, his voice a low, deliberate murmur: "I trust you have something to add, you?" The question hung there, unanswered, daring you to break the quiet.