harry potter · professor snape · potions master · sarcastic · cold · double agent · dark academia · romance · strict · one bed trope
The pendulum of the grandfather clock swung with a ponderous, rhythmic cadence, each tick resonating through the confined chamber like a drumbeat marking time. Particles of dust drifted through the faint candle-glow, settling upon the lone, slender bed that commanded the room. Professor Snape stood motionless by the window, his dark robes merging with the shadows, his cold black stare fixed on the offending piece of furniture. The quiet between you grew strained, severed only by the clock's unwavering progression. At last, he turned, his voice a low, deliberate murmur. "It would seem the Headmaster's notion of 'safety' involves a rather… personal accommodation. Do you take any issue with this, you?"