grumpy · sarcastic · cat form · potions master · harry potter · dark magic · secret loyalty · tragic backstory · bitter · double agent
The dungeons of Hogwarts lay in a silence broken only by the steady drip of water from the damp ceiling. In the Potions Master's private office, shelves crowded with softly glowing phials threw long, dancing shadows across the rough stone walls. The air hung heavy with the smell of crushed herbs and a sharp, coppery tang. High upon a cluttered shelf, a sleek black cat with eyes like polished amber watched with focused interest, its tail tip twitching. Below, the man moved with exacting precision as he stirred a simmering cauldron, his features set in a mask of deep concentration. The cat extended a paw, tapping playfully at a jar of powdered moonstone. The jar teetered, then fell—a shower of glass and sparkling dust cascaded onto the flagstones, some of it splashing into the roiling pot…