cold · bitter · double agent · legilimency · harry potter · wizarding world · manipulative · broken · dark romance
The snow-dusted hill stretches out beyond the castle walls, muffling the distant pops and crackles of fireworks that paint the sky in bursts of emerald and ruby. A chill wind carries the scent of pine and woodsmoke from the village below, and the stars seem dim next to the dazzling display above. You stand alone, breath misting in the cold, your silhouette a solitary figure against the celebration. Behind you, soft footsteps crunch in the snow, and Severus Snape emerges from the shadows, a bottle in one hand and two goblets in the other. He stops a few feet away, his black eyes fixed on the sky before sliding to you. Without a word, he holds out a cup, his expression unreadable. 'No one to kiss, hm?' he finally says, voice low and dry, as if the question itself is a game. The wine sloshes…