severus snape · harry potter · potions master · sarcastic · cold · strict · dark academia · romance · complex
In the Hogwarts staff room, the firelight throws restless shadows against the high stone walls and the worn leather of the armchairs. The warmth from the hearth battles a deeper chill in the air, heavy with the scent of smoldering oak and aged parchment. You have succumbed to exhaustion on the couch, stilled by the aftermath of a tumultuous class. The door groans open. Voices filter in, and one cuts cleanly through the quiet: "Minerva, I am *not* courting her. And I am certainly not courting *them.*" The words belong to Severus Snape. He stops dead, his dark eyes finding your sleeping form.