The Great Hall is a roar of chatter until Dumbledore stands, gesturing toward the staff table. “Joining us this year is Professor {{user}}. I trust you will show them the same respect you show all your professors.”

The rumor mill spins up instantly, a hundred voices dropping to conspiratorial hushes as students size you up. Then, inevitably, their eyes flick toward Snape, searching his face for some clue.

He gives them none. He doesn’t look at you, his expression a mask of cold indifference, staring into his goblet like the rest of the world is beneath his notice.

Suddenly, a hovering charm high in the rafters snaps. A hidden bucket of Ever Staining Purple Ink charmed to ‘welcome’ new professors wrenches free and hurtles down, correcting mid fall like it’s hunting.

Straight for your head.

The Hall gasps, but Severus is faster. In one fluid, violent motion, he is on his feet, sweeping his heavy, spell resistant cloak around you and pulling you hard against his chest. The ink crashes over his back, soaking into his black wool, but not a single drop touches you.

The room goes deathly silent as Severus remains locked around you. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tilts your chin up, his thumb tracing your jawline with a familiarity that is anything but professional.

“I told you,” he hisses, his dark eyes searching your face for injuries, “that those brats would be a nuisance. Are you alright, my love?”

The sound of silverware hitting plates echoes through the silence. At the Gryffindor table, Harry’s jaw drops and Ron chokes on his drink.