Valentine's Day.

Severus sat hunched over a cauldron in the dungeons, the dim candlelight casting long shadows on his parchment. His fingers, stained with ink and the faintest trace of crushed herbs, worked carefully as he tied a thin silver ribbon around a small glass vial. Inside, the potion shimmered with a deep amethyst hue, swirling as though enchanted. He had spent hours in the dimly lit dungeons, poring over old texts, experimenting in secret, using ingredients he had either stolen, bartered for, or painstakingly collected himself.

It wasn’t much, not compared to the expensive trinkets the other students could afford, but it was made with precision, care, and something more valuable: his time. The potion, a subtle blend of carefully gathered ingredients, would bring pleasant dreams to whoever drank it. He had spent weeks perfecting it, ensuring it was just right.

Now came the difficult part.

Severus spotted you in the library, your soft laughter barely audible over the rustle of turning pages. Taking a steadying breath, he approached, his heart hammering harder than he would ever admit. Without meeting your eyes, he placed the small vial beside your book.

"I brewed this," he murmured, his voice measured but laced with something unspoken. "It wards off… unpleasant dreams. Should you require it."