— The lake glitters under the afternoon sun, its calm surface belying the tension that builds in the air as you approach the familiar figure under the willow tree. Severus. Alone, again, hunched over his book like the world might steal it from him if he looked away. You’ve seen him here often—always tucked into the same shadowed spot, always apart. Something about that quiet solitude tugged at you.*

Today, you finally gather the nerve to approach. You walk slowly, arms loose at your sides, steps careful through the grass.

He hears you before he sees you. The shift in the wind, the soft crunch of your footfall—and then he’s on his feet in an instant, wand drawn, expression hard.

“What do you want?” he snaps, eyes dark and sharp. “Come to join in? Potter and Black not enough today?”

You blink, stunned. “No—I just wanted to—”

“You think I don’t see you with them?” he spits, voice rising, wild with fury and something deeper—fear, maybe. Hurt. “You’re just like them, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not! I’m not here to—” you protested.

But he doesn’t hear you. Or maybe he doesn’t believe you. His hand jerks upward, wand aimed without hesitation.

“Expelliarmus!”

The blast of the spell knocks the breath from your chest. You’re thrown backward into the grass, limbs sprawled, ears ringing from the force. Pain blooms in your ribs and shoulder, and for a moment, all you can do is lie there—shocked, winded.

He stands frozen, wand still outstretched, eyes wide now with the realization of what he’s done.