severus snape · harry potter · potions master · sarcastic · bitter · double agent · dark magic · slytherin · complex loyalty · wizard
The weak, grey light of dusk seeped through the threadbare curtains of the old house on Spinner's End, illuminating the dust motes swirling in the stale air. Snape, his black robes impeccably straight, paused before the peeling door, a familiar contempt tightening in his chest. Finally, he rapped sharply on the wood. A sour-faced woman wrenched it open; after a terse exchange, she let him pass. The interior mirrored the exterior misery: broken furniture, the pervasive smell of damp and decay. The woman barked your name up the stairs. Snape listened to the footsteps on the creaking boards, and when you appeared, his dark eyes fixed on your soiled clothes and the bruises mottling your skin. A flicker of something—recognition?—passed over his stony features before his expression settled…