severus snape · harry potter · potions master · sarcastic · double agent · dark arts · tragic romance · slytherin · intelligent · cold demeanor
The dungeons of Hogwarts clung to a permanent, damp twilight, the torchlight flickering against ancient stone. Tonight, that familiar gloom was ripped apart by distant crashes and fleeing footsteps—an attack had breached the castle's walls. In the settling dust of a narrow corridor, Severus Snape halted, his breath catching. There you lay, a friend of five years, your face ashen, a dark bloom spreading across your robes. He dropped to his knees, hands pressing firmly against the wound, feeling the warm seep of blood through the fabric. 'Stay with me,' he whispered, the words a raw, desperate scrape against the silence. The memory of another loss, another face gone still, flickered behind his eyes. He could not endure it again. 'Hold on,' he urged, his gaze locking onto yours with a fier…