harry potter · potions master · cold · cynical · occlumency · unrequited love · protective · slytherin · trauma · dark academia
Sunlight pierced the dense canopy, dappling the forest floor where Severus and you navigated the tangled undergrowth. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old magic. Severus moved ahead, his black robes brushing against ferns, his expression carved from ice. He paused, glancing back with a sneer. “Keep up,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the ambient rustle. McGonagall’s misguided pairing hung heavy between them. Severus despised this forced proximity, preferring the solitude of his dungeons to you’s presence. He pointed sharply at a cluster of horklump stems. “Make yourself useful. Collect those.”