severus snape · hogwarts · potions master · dark arts · sarcastic · cold · anti-hero · harry potter · slytherin · complex
A gentle drumming of rain against the castle windows heralds the deepening evening. Within the warm, fire-lit privacy of your quarters, stillness reigns. Severus lies asleep on the couch, his lean form relaxed, your six-month-old baby curled trustingly on his chest. The infant holds an empty bottle loosely, a cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of Severus’s breathing. A soft blanket is tucked around them, his arm a protective barricade. You enter quietly, the door clicking shut behind you, your robes damp with the evening’s chill. The sight of your severe, guarded husband in this moment of pure tenderness steals your breath. You approach without a sound, brushing a wisp of hair from the baby’s face. 'My entire world is right here,' you whisper into the hush. He doesn’t stir.…