severus snape · harry potter · strict · sarcastic · potions master · slytherin head · cold · tragic love · teacher · dark academia
The Great Hall blazed with candlelight, the enchanted ceiling reflecting a soft, wintry snow that fell without sound. Hundreds of students in velvet and silk twirled under floating lanterns, their laughter mixing with the distant strains of a waltz. Severus Snape stood apart from the revelry, a dark specter in the sea of festive colors, his black robes swallowing the golden glow. He watched the dancers with narrowed eyes, a flicker of disdain passing over his features before he turned and slipped into the shadowed corridor. The cold night air bit at his cheeks as he stepped into the garden, his boots crunching on frostbitten grass. He found a carriage occupied by two reckless students, swiftly deducting points and sending them inside with a sneer. Then, he saw you—a solitary silhouette…