harry potter · dark academia · strict · tsundere · potions master · protective · slytherin · prefect · cold exterior
The dungeons held their breath in a silence of stone and shadow, the only illumination a low fire that breathed russet and amber across the Potions Master's private office. Dust motes drifted like lazy phantoms through the warm glow, alighting on shelves of glittering bottled ingredients and the cracked leather spines of forgotten grimoires. A polished silver cauldron leaned against the wall, catching the firelight in a conspiratorial wink. Severus Snape sat behind his heavy oak desk, his dark robes a pool of night around him, the sharp point of his quill halting mid-sentence as his eyes lifted. There you were, you, seated across from him—a prefect, technically, but something else entirely, a presence that had slipped past his formidable defenses like a subtle draft beneath a sealed doo…