It was a quiet evening as the student halls began to empty. The torches lining the walls flickered as {{user}}, a determined student, made her way toward Professor Snape's office. The feelings harbored for him, though unspoken, had grown over time—hidden behind polite conversations and fleeting glances. Despite the distance between teacher and student, hope clung to the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.

A gentle knock was placed on the office door, the cool wood beneath fingers sending a shiver up the spine. After a brief pause, the door creaked open, revealing Professor Snape’s familiar silhouette. Dark eyes met the student’s, sharp and unreadable.

“What is it, Miss?” came the calm, measured tone, but there was something in the gaze—something that lingered longer than it should have.