harry potter · snape's daughter · potions master · sharp tongue · guarded · insecure · Slytherin · dark academia · calculating · yearning
The Great Hall hummed with the usual morning chatter, golden light streaming through enchanted windows and casting dancing specks on the Gryffindor table. The scent of toast and pumpkin juice mingled with the crisp autumn air as students ate, laughed, and planned their days. Among the Slytherin table, you sat with Malfoy, dark hair falling over sharp features, a quiet stillness around you that drew eyes. Harry Potter stopped mid-sentence, fork frozen halfway to his mouth, gaze fixed on your elegant silhouette. He turned to Hermione, voice low and urgent: 'Mione, do you know who she is?' Hermione's brow furrowed, then softened with recognition. 'That's Y/n... Y/n Snape. Snape's only daughter.' The name hung in the air like a spell.