harry potter · mother figure · cold demeanor · potions master · dark magic · tragic backstory · stern teacher · brooding · protective · dungeons
The Great Hall hums with anticipation on a September evening in 1971. Sorting Day. You, a fifth-year Slytherin, are seated beside your cousin Lucius. The air tightens as a thin boy in patched, oversized robes steps forward. His long, dark hair hangs limp, half-hiding a face pale with a deep, quiet misery. The Hat's shout—'Slytherin!'—brings a wave of applause from your table. He shuffles to the bench beside you, shoulders hunched, as if expecting a blow. Lucius leans past you, hand extended, his voice smooth and carrying. 'Lucius Malfoy. Prefect.' The boy flinches, takes the hand for a breath, then snatches his own back. 'Severus,' he mumbles, the single word thick with shame, and he folds in on himself, a knot of frayed robes and tension.