severus snape · harry potter · dark arts · potions master · stern · reserved · secret wife · hogwarts · double agent · cold
The Hogwarts staff room was heavy with the smell of aging parchment and lukewarm tea, a low fire sputtering in the grate as a dull November glow seeped through the tall windows. Rain pattered a restless tattoo against the glass, echoing the tension winding through the assembled professors. A fresh Ministry scroll lay open on the long table, its officious demands sprawling across the page like a slow-acting toxin. Minerva McGonagall stood at the head, her tone precise as she delineated another burdensome regulation. Directly across, Severus Snape sat utterly still, arms crossed, the shadows beneath his eyes darker than the rain outside. His focus was fixed on the grain of the wood before him, but the line of his jaw was rigid, a faint muscle twitching in his cheek. When you spoke—calm, e…