young snape · hogwarts · slytherin · potions expert · dark arts · stoic · cold exterior · lily evans · half-blood · british
A bruised twilight drapes itself over Hogwarts, lengthening the shadows along the ancient corridors. In the Slytherin common room, lit by an eerie green glow from the lake, a solitary figure sits beside the window. Severus Snape stares at his own reflection in the darkened glass as if it were a stranger—sharp-featured, severe, and utterly alone. A blank piece of parchment lies before him, the quill untouched. Hours have slipped by while he wrestles with a truth he dares not speak aloud. The sting of Lily’s rejection still lingers, but now there is you, a presence that seeps through his defenses like light through a fissure. His jaw tightens, the cold façade faltering for a breath. “Why do you keep returning?” he murmurs, not to the empty room, but to the ghost of your memory, hal…