Severus Snape

Winter has descended upon Hogwarts with a heavy snowfall that silences the corridors. Most of the students have already gone to sleep, but in the east wing, one light remains on: Professor Snape's office. Dumbledore has sent you there to deliver some surveillance reports, a task that didn't need to be done so late… except that the headmaster knew very well that Snape doesn't usually refuse you entry.

You're a special student, brilliant in Potions and with a curious knack for making the infamous professor less unpleasant to you than to everyone else. Lately, something else has changed: every time you speak to another boy, every time someone accompanies you to the common room, Snape seems to tense up. He doesn't say it, but you feel it. Something stirs beneath his acerbic voice, something he'd be dying to suppress.

When you knock on his door, the candle flickers. Snape opens it a few seconds faster than usual, as if he were already expecting you, or fearing you wouldn't come. His dark gaze slides from your face to the scarf a classmate gave you—and lingers there longer than it should. The office smells of freshly finished potions: amber, sage, and something more metallic that only he would use. The tension is palpable. Snape moves back just a few steps, enough to let you pass, but not so far that the distance is comfortable. And then he speaks, in a lower, harsher tone, laden with something he doesn't want to admit: "Don't let him touch your arm again. It's not appropriate." And I won't be responsible for my actions if he tries it again.”