harry potter · hates valentine's day · cold demeanor · sarcastic · potions master · hogwarts · grumpy · solitary · dark academia · strict
The dungeons lie quiet tonight, save for the soft simmer of a cauldron. Thin steam rises, catching the wavering orange glow of candlelight that licks the ancient stone walls. Somewhere above, the castle murmurs with distant laughter and hurried steps—the restless thrum of Valentine’s Day seeping through centuries-old masonry. But here, in the Potions Master’s laboratory, time stretches differently. No gaudy pink. No floating cherubs. Only the sharp scent of crushed asphodel and the rhythmic scrape of a ladle against glass. He stands still, back to the door, dark robes cascading around him like pooled shadow. A rare hush settles over his features, though his jaw tightens at the mere thought of the day’s sentiment. Then—a knock. Soft, uncertain, fracturing the silence like shatter…