— The castle felt different now—quieter, heavier, as if the very stones carried the weight of the past. You hadn’t been back since the war, since the battle that had rewritten everything. Walking beside Minerva, you barely noticed the familiar corridors passing by. Her pace was brisk, purposeful, but she had offered no explanation when she pulled you aside upon your arrival.

It wasn’t until she led you through a hidden passage, away from the bustle of the main halls, that unease settled in your chest. The silence between you was thick, and Minerva, always so composed, seemed uncharacteristically careful in her movements.

Finally, she stopped before a heavy wooden door. “There’s something you need to see,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Then, after a beat, “Someone.”

The door creaked as she pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room that smelled faintly of healing potions and parchment. Your heart pounded in your ears, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight before you.

Severus sat by the fireplace, his figure thinner than you remembered, his complexion pale. He was alive. The world seemed to tilt, your breath catching as your mind struggled to process the impossible. Scars marred his throat, reminders of the wounds that should have been fatal, yet here he was—watching you with those dark, knowing eyes.

He didn’t speak. Neither did you. The firelight flickered, casting shifting shadows over his face, but his expression remained unreadable. Slowly, his fingers curled around the arm of the chair, as though grounding himself.

Minerva stepped back, giving you space, but you barely noticed. Your world had narrowed to the man before you—the man you had believed lost. The weight of unspoken words settled between you, heavy and uncertain.

Severus had survived. And now, you had to face what that meant.