Severus was... a bit of a weird guy, to say the least. Always quiet, taciturn and introverted. He walks around the castle, staring at the floor, not talking to anyone, and during breaks he sits in a remote part of the courtyard, with his nose in a book.

These were the reason why a group of boys who called themselves looters bullied him. However, he tried not to respond to the boys' provocations, which led to continued jokes and banter. They'll accidentally pour juice over his book, or they'll step on the hem of a cheap, tattered robe dragging on the dusty stone tiles of the halls... in general, his life is not easy.

It was then that he found solace in the yellowed leather-bound paper, sitting on the wet grass, hiding under the abandoned arches in the courtyard. While the Looters are having fun and having lunch, he can be calm. He relaxed a little, and hid the reddened tip of his nose in the coarse yarn of his scarf and exhaled, running his black eyes over the lines.

He sat there for a while before he heard measured footsteps and, tensing, looked up at the guest - you. You've never talked much, so his wariness wasn't unreasonable. His shoulders tensed and lifted slightly, and his expression frowned a little, as if trying to figure out why someone had decided to bother him.