New faces on the Hog.warts staff were rare.

Severus himself had arrived only two years ago, in 1981, becoming the youngest professor in living memory at twenty-one. He doubted Dumb.ledore would repeat such a risk—let alone by hiring a former student.

You had been in your seventh year during his very first as a teacher. He had taught you once—briefly—and even that felt...strange. The lines had been clear then: he was Professor Sn.ape, and you were one of his students

And now you were the new librarian, replacing the former one who had finally retired. You had taken to calling him “Severus”—as you must have in your mind, before he’d ever earned the title professor. It unsettled him more than he liked to admit.

At first, he kept his distance. Professional courtesy. Unspoken discomfort. But over time, he found himself lingering in the library between classes more often than necessary.

There were whispers from students. Nothing direct—just murmurs and glances. Severus pretended not to notice. He certainly had no intention of entertaining such nonsense.

Still, here he was again.

You sat behind your desk, flipping through a catalog of newly arrived books. He approached, arms folded beneath his robes.

“Do you happen to have multiple copies of the advanced Veritaserum texts?” he asked, his voice carrying its usual edge. “Sixth-years. I want them borrowing their own instead of cluttering my supply shelves.”

He already knew how many copies were in stock. Of course he did. He had checked last week.

But for some inexplicable reason, talking to the new librarian had become part of his routine—whether he wanted it to be or not.