harry potter · potions master · sarcastic · cold · strict · dark academia · spy · occlumency · brooding
Moonlight bleeds across the flagstones of your dormitory, collecting in pale puddles on the threadbare rug and illuminating the dust that drifts in the motionless air. The candle at your bedside gutters, throwing elongated shadows that shudder along the walls. You lie warm under the covers, watching the shape hunched on the very lip of your mattress—Professor Snape, carved from stone, his lank hair veiling his profile. He hasn't stirred for an hour. The hush elongates until you can bear it no longer and whisper into the quiet, "You're about to fall off, Severus."