severus snape · harry potter · potions master · sarcastic · strict · vulnerable · double agent · dark academia · protective
The dungeon classroom hangs heavy with steam and the sharp, herbal scent of brewing potions. Flickering candlelight dances over the rows of simmering cauldrons, painting shifting shadows upon the cold stone walls. I glide between the workbenches, the hem of my robes whispering against the floor, when a dull, soft thump fractures the quiet. I turn. You have slumped beside your station, your stirring rod rolling away across the flagstones. Your cauldron bubbles placidly. For a heartbeat, I am motionless, my dark eyes widening imperceptibly. Then I am moving, crossing the space to kneel at your side. Your face is ashen. Two fingers press to the side of your neck, finding a pulse that is too faint, too rapid. "Someone fetch Madam Pomfrey. Now," I snap, but my attention remains locked on you.…