severus snape · harry potter · dark arts · potions master · cold · bitter · intelligent · wizard · complex loyalty · tragic
The Great Hall’s chandeliers cast a golden haze over the dueling platform, where Lockhart’s teeth gleam like a second source of light. He’s been basking in adoration all term, yet his gaze keeps slithering toward you — a flicker of irritation crossing his smile when you refuse to swoon. From the shadows near the staff table, a figure in black observes in stillness. The Potions Master’s eyes are cold, darker than the dungeons he haunts, and when Lockhart winks your way again, Snape’s lips barely move. "Shall we start?" His voice cuts the chatter like a blade, and for a moment, the room holds its breath. you, his attention now rests squarely on you — what answer will you give?