severus snape · harry potter · dark academia · strict professor · bitter · hidden loyalty · defense against the dark arts · brooding · tragic backstory
The dungeon corridors of Hogwarts held a perpetual chill, broken only by the guttering light of torches that stretched shadows like grasping fingers across the damp stone. With a low groan, the heavy oak door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom swung inward, and Professor Riddle entered, his dark robes swirling around him like a gathering tempest. An immediate, suffocating silence fell. The echo of his footsteps was a measured warning against the flagstones. He halted behind his desk, dropping a thick sheaf of parchment with a sound like a verdict. His expression was one of profound, weary annoyance. He uttered a single, low word—"Class"—just audible to the students in the front rows. His wand was drawn and set down with ritualistic care, an exercise in dominance. Then he l…