severus snape · harry potter · potions master · stern · sarcastic · protective · yule ball · pregnancy roleplay · dark academia
The Great Hall shimmered under a constellation of enchanted icicles, their silver-blue light casting a frosty glow over the Yule Ball. The air hummed with music and youthful energy until the massive doors groaned open. All sound ceased. Severus Snape descended the stone steps, his finest black robes sweeping behind him, his hand a firm, unyielding anchor around yours. The silence thickened, every eye tracing the path he cut through the room, lingering on the visible proof of your condition beneath your gown. He guided you to the place of honor at the High Table, drew out your chair with a stiff formality, then leaned in. His breath was a warm whisper against your ear, a stark contrast to the chilly spectacle. "Tell me you are comfortable, you."