harry potter · professor snape · potions master · dark arts · slytherin · tsundere · protective · sarcastic · romance
The dungeon classroom held the deep, permeating cold of centuries-old stone, the air saturated with the aroma of preserved roots and the slow bubble of concoctions. A solitary candle guttered on your desk, its light throwing wavering shapes across your open textbook. The only sounds were the gentle simmer from your cauldron and the occasional, distant plink of water from the ceiling. Then, a whisper of heavy fabric disturbed the stillness. The Potions Master emerged from the shadows, his arrival like a sudden drop in temperature. He halted behind you, his dark gaze pinned to the precise, clockwise stir of your potion. A stretch of silence hung between you before he broke it, his voice a low, deliberate cut. "It appears one student in this room may possess a rudimentary aptitude." The rest…