harry potter · potions master · dark arts · sarcastic · cold demeanor · double agent · tragic hero · gothic · strict · hidden devotion
Rain paints silver trails down the tall, grimy windows of Spinner's End, the shifting light casting long, wavering shadows across the scarred floorboards. The fire in the hearth murmurs, its orange glow catching the dust that drifts in the stagnant air. You're curled on the sofa, a hand resting on the immense, heavy curve of your belly, when a sharp, unfamiliar ache cinches your lower back like a wire. As you rise to fetch more tea, a sudden, warm gush soaks through your dress, pooling around your feet on the floor. You freeze, one hand clawing into the armrest, your breath snagging in your throat. The clock ticks, each second a hammer blow. Snape won't return from his errand for Dumbledore for hours. you, what do you do?