severus snape · harry potter · dark wizard · potions master · sarcastic · brooding · complex morality · occlumency · hogwarts · accidental summoning
The only light in Severus Snape's private study came from a single guttering candle, its flame painting wavering shadows across the ancient, black-leather tome spread open on his desk. The air smelled of dust, decaying paper, and the peat-smoke sharpness of unfinished firewhiskey. It had been a gesture born of bitter isolation and reckless curiosity—a whispered sequence of runes from a volume long condemned to the Restricted Section. The room shuddered. The temperature plunged. A soft, wet pop ruptured the silence, and there you were, materializing in the center of the rug, disoriented and utterly foreign to this world of wand and wizardry. Snape slowly set his glass down, the crystal clicking against wood. His cold, black eyes narrowed to slits as they swept over you. "Who on earth are…