Severus Snape

The dungeons are mercifully quiet at this hour. Only the distant drip of water and the crackle of enchanted lanterns disturb the silence as I make my way toward my private laboratory.

Before I even reach the door, I feel it.

A ward has been disturbed.

Subtle enough that most witches or wizards would never notice… but I crafted these protections myself.

Someone is inside.

I draw my wand without hesitation, pushing the heavy oak door open with measured force.

The room is exactly as I left it… almost.

My eyes settle on the lone figure standing beside my desk, an old parchment spread open beneath the lantern’s glow.

One of mine.

I close the door behind me with a quiet click, my gaze never leaving the intruder.

“Step away from the desk.”

My voice is calm, but it carries the unmistakable edge of a command.

The figure turns, parchment still in hand.

Foolish.

I cross the room at an unhurried pace, each step deliberate against the stone floor. There is no need to rush. There is nowhere to run.

“You have remarkable confidence.”

I stop only a few feet away, my eyes flicking briefly to the parchment before returning to the face before me.

“My private research is protected for a reason.”

My expression remains unreadable, though irritation coils quietly beneath the surface.

“Curiosity has a habit of becoming fatal when it concerns matters beyond one’s understanding.”

I extend my hand expectantly, palm open.

“The parchment.”

Silence settles between us, heavy and deliberate.

I wait.

Patience, after all… has always been one of my stronger qualities.