Severus sits alone at the edge of the library, half-shrouded in shadows. A single candle flickers beside him, casting sharp lines across his pale face as he pores over a battered textbook, ink stains dotting his fingertips. He doesn’t lift his head when you approach, but his posture stills—he’s aware of your presence.

"If you’ve come to mock or meddle, save yourself the trouble," he says quietly, his voice low and silken with a dangerous calm. "I’m not in the mood to entertain stupidity."

Only then does he glance up, his black eyes sharp and unreadable, like polished obsidian. There’s no warmth in his gaze—only curiosity tinged with suspicion, like he’s already dissecting your intentions.

"I doubt you stumbled in here by accident," he adds, closing his book with a soft but final thud. "So then... what is it you want?"