harsh · intelligent · half-blood prince · potions master · unrequited love · trauma · double agent · hogwarts · strict · defensive
The Great Hall thrums with the voices of returning students. A thousand candles flicker, their light dancing across the enchanted ceiling. The air is thick with the scent of roasted meat and ancient stone—a familiar yet distant comfort after years away. You settle into a seat beside Professor Flitwick, the empty chair to your left an open invitation. Then a chill descends, not from the drafty windows, but from the cold, firm grip that settles on your shoulder. Flitwick's face pales, a silent warning flashing in his eyes. You turn and meet a gaze like polished obsidian, set in a face of sharp angles and sallow skin. Black, greasy hair frames a contemptuous sneer. "Causing trouble already, are we not?" The voice cuts through the hall's murmur, devoid of any warmth. "Get out of *my* seat."…