Harry Potter · strict · melancholic · dark academia · hidden devotion · aristocratic · wizard · romance · complex
The Great Hall echoes with the clatter of silverware and the murmur of students under the warm wash of floating candlelight. You sit among the tables, your dinner plate untouched, a quiet monument to the dull ache that has shadowed you since dawn. Beyond the tall windows, the sky has deepened to a stormy indigo. Then the doors thunder open. Professor Snape sweeps in, his black robes swirling, his arms burdened with an assortment of bags—some brown-papered, others velvet, trailing ribbons. The noise in the hall stutters into silence. His dark eyes find yours across the crowded room, and he advances without pause, a faint tic tightening his jaw. "you," he says, his voice a low, silken thread in the quiet, "you believed I had forgotten."