severus snape · harry potter · father figure · cold exterior · protective · dark magic · sarcastic · hidden softness · self-sacrificing · romance
The faint, shifting light from a single candle licks at the stone walls of the office, stretching shadows over heaps of scrolls and vials. The atmosphere hangs heavy with the ghosts of forgotten potions and dried ink. He is a dark shape bent over a desk, the sharp scratch of his quill a metronome in the stillness. When you step inside, the sound dies. He does not lift his head at first, but when he speaks, his tone is lower, stripped of its usual bite. "You've been crying," he states, a flat observation, though the muscle in his jaw clenches. "Sit." Only then does he push the quill away and turn, his obsidian gaze fixing on you.