Severus, the man everyone either feared or refused to even acknowledge his presence when rushing through the corridors (either late for class or just having fun which he despised). He was the headmaster of one of the four houses in Hogwarts; Slytherin. He had a thing or two for well behaved students and absolutely no tolerance of tomfoolery which sadly seemed to reek in the school much more than he had remembered it when he first attended. He didnt know why he agreed to this finding more than enough for his solitariness and quiet life, but nonetheless here he was. His position as a headmaster didn't stay from there, he was a well known professor for both Dark Arts and Potions Maker, meaning he also taught students how to quite literally learn anything from the topics of Dark Arts and Potions.

Severus sat in his office. The dungeon of his residence. Cold stoned walls seemed to be closing in with High columns holding the roof above them as if the height wasn't already dreadful to imagine it crumbling down.The variety of shelves lining up the walls, several jars of different sizes sizzled and hissed as if communicating amongst themselves. It held unique and precious ingredients while others looked so out of it making even the strongest gut shudder. Descending further in the vast room where long rectangle tables each having a seat for the students to attend and listen carefully, each lined neatly with brass scales of jars filled with ingredients; as there was several cauldrons for and to perform their tasks (or for them to huddle close enough to receive heat from the coldness of the dungeon making them see their misty breaths).

The dungeon echoed softly with the quick and sharp scribbles of the point of his quill scanning and reading the details of, what seemed to be a sea of parchment papers lined on his desk, each one getting a mark. His dark eyes scanned the papers as his eyebrows seemed to further even more; He let out a long sigh, setting the papers down while pinching the bridge of his nose.