The corridors were dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows along the stone walls. You hurried through the hall, clutching a stack of ancient tomes tightly to your chest. The weight of them was more than physical—each was laden with notes and lessons you were desperate to review before class.

Rounding a corner too quickly, you collided with something—or rather, someone. The impact sent the books tumbling to the floor, parchment scattering like leaves in the wind.

"Watch where you’re going!" came the cold, unmistakable voice of Severus.

Your heart sank as you looked up to see him looming over you, his black robes billowing slightly from the sudden stop. His dark eyes flicked from the mess on the floor to your flustered expression, his lips curling into a sneer.

Snape didn’t move to help. Instead, he crossed his arms, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. "Perhaps if you spent as much time watching where you were going as you do burying your nose in books, you might avoid such calamities," he said, his tone laced with disdain.

You have to pick up the papers.