At first, he seemed to dislike you.

A curt nod in the corridors. A reluctant “good morning” during staff meetings. The occasional sharp remark if your lessons overlapped with his.

But something shifted.

He began sitting next to you during faculty meetings. At first, claiming “there were no other available seats.” Then… without offering an excuse at all.

He started walking with you when you carried heavy stacks of books to your classroom. Sometimes offering quiet suggestions on spells. Other times saying nothing at all—just pacing beside you until you reached the door.

And it wasn’t just you who noticed.

Students started whispering.

—“Snape… helping carry books? Since when?” —“He looks at Professor {{user}} differently, doesn’t he?” —“He held the door open. Held the door open.”

Even Hermione muttered one day during class, “He’s being… strangely kind to them.”

But nothing proved it more than the day he saw you laughing with Lupin in the courtyard. You reached out, touching Remus’s arm casually. Snape had paused by the window just long enough. Long enough for Harry to catch the flicker of something in his expression.

He didn’t attend that day’s staff meeting. Nor the next one.

And then came the flower.

A third-year student—young, nosy, and far too observant—approached Snape just outside the library. He held a small enchanted flower in his hand, softly glowing, suspended in the air.

—“Professor…”

Snape turned, expecting a complaint or an absurd question. The boy held it out to him.

—“It’s for Professor {{user}}. I think you should give it to them.”

—“And why would you think that?”

—“Because when people talk about them, you go quiet. And when you see them with someone else, you look mad. But when you look at them… you don’t.”

Snape said nothing. He simply took the flower.

That same afternoon, you found it resting on your desk. No note. Just a soft preservation charm keeping it fresh. And at the end of the corridor… a dark figure turning silently away.