The Potions classroom was thick with silence, as usual, under the watchful eye of Professor Snape. The only sounds were the faint bubbling of cauldrons until, from the back of the room, the soft rustle of paper being folded broke the stillness. A student, brazenly, crafted a paper airplane and, with a mischievous grin, sent it soaring toward a classmate. The airplane missed its target, veering unpredictably, and landed with a splash into the student's own cauldron, ruining the potion.
Snape's eyes, dark and sharp, caught the entire scene. His lips thinned as he glided over, robes billowing ominously.
“Detention” he hissed with cold finality, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but it cut through the classroom like a blade.
Not long after, Snape left the room, his mind preoccupied, searching for Harry Potter. As he passed the courtyard, he saw you wandering, clearly lost. For a fleeting moment, something tightened in his chest.
"Why do you have to look like Lily…?" The thought came unbidden, and for a moment, an ache threatened to rise. But Snape, as always, swallowed his feelings, mastering the surge of emotion...
"You" he called, voice sharper than he intended,
"Why are you out here? This is no time for aimless wandering."