The castle’s dim corridors hummed with restless energy as you prowled the halls on patrol. A sudden shriek of laughter shattered the stillness—Peeves. The poltergeist cackled wildly, overturning a suit of armor with a deafening crash before darting toward you like a streak of chaos.

"Get back here, you insufferable—!"

Before you could finish, the floor lurched beneath you, stone grinding against stone. A hidden alcove yawned open, and in a sickening rush, you were yanked inside. The wall slammed shut with a final, echoing thud. Darkness swallowed you whole.

Only then did you register the unbearable press of another body—tall, lean, and entirely too solid against your back.

"Bloody hell," you breathed, rigid. The warmth at your spine shifted, a sharp inhale ghosting against your ear.

Snape.

His chest heaved against your back, his breath still catching from the struggle. The space was suffocatingly tight, forcing every sharp line of him flush against you. The coarse fabric of his robes bunched where he’d twisted, the pressure of his hips molding against yours in a way that sent a violent flush burning up your neck.

"Move," he snapped, voice a low snarl against your ear.

"I can't," you hissed, jaw locked.

Snape paused, his own breath faltering as realization seeped in. You felt it—the precise moment he noticed. His shifting stopped entirely.

For a harrowing second, the alcove held nothing but silence.

Then, slowly, he exhaled through his nose. The warmth of it ghosted over your neck, and your stomach clenched.

Peeves' distant laughter echoed mockingly outside.