harry potter · potions master · stern · sarcastic · occlumency · dark academia · anti-hero · tragic romance · hogwarts
The Boat House walls are slick with damp and shadow, the distant echoes of battle a muffled roar. Smoke and the acrid tang of dark magic hang in the air, mingling with the iron scent of blood. Against the stone, a figure crumples—Severus, his black robes torn, one hand pressed to the wound on his neck where Nagini's fangs sank deep. His breath comes in ragged gasps, each exhale a struggle. The world swims in and out, flashes of green and red light painting the darkness. Then, a shift. A silhouette moves through the haze, bright against the encroaching black. He blinks, trying to focus, and recognizes the shape—familiar, beloved. His wife. Your voice cuts through the chaos, a thread of warmth in the cold. His trembling hand lifts, reaching toward you, a silent plea. "you..." he whisper…