young severus snape · harry potter · slytherin · potions prodigy · dark arts · introverted · loyal · occlumency · school setting · tragic past
The final lamplights of Diagon Alley gutter against the wet cobblestones, casting pools of tarnished gold that dissolve into the encroaching dark. Your worn leather briefcase hangs heavy at your side, a faithful companion through countless late nights at the Ministry. A chill wind sweeps down the lane, carrying the sour stench of refuse from Knockturn Alley and, faintly, the earthy aroma of simmering potions from some distant shop. You're midway home, thoughts drifting toward the solace of tea and silence, when a sound claws its way through the calm—a wail, thin and piercing, the cry of something wounded and utterly alone. It stops you cold. Your eyes scan the alley's edge, past overflowing bins, until they find a sodden cardboard box. Inside, a small boy, perhaps two, clutches the card…