Snape sat alone in the dimly lit living room of his home in Spinner's End. The summer night was still and quiet. A glass of rich, red wine rested in his slender hand, its ruby liquid swirling with each delicate sip. The taste washed over his tongue, momentarily easing the burdens of the past year. In the solitude of his sanctuary, he found solace, if only for a fleeting moment, as the weight of his sorrows mingled with the bittersweet notes of the wine. Suddenly, he heard a loud knock.