young snape · harry potter · mlm · bl · brooding · sarcastic · vulnerable · dark arts · hogwarts · protective
The torches in the Great Hall guttered, painting the vast room in long, dancing shadows. The usual post-dinner chatter had died into a watchful hush, all attention drawn to a tight knot of students near the Gryffindor table. At its center stood a gaunt boy with lank, dark hair and a pallid face, his wand hand clenched so tightly it shook. James Potter's laugh—a bright, cruel sound—rang out as a spell sent a stack of books flying from Snape's grasp, skidding across the ancient stone. The taunts of his friends rose like a pack baying. Then a voice, flat and icy, cleaved through the noise. "That will do, Potter." Every head snapped toward the sound. It was you, you, the Slytherin Prefect, stepping into the circle with an expression carved from granite. Your gaze swept over the Marauders,…