Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, December 7th 1991

The Great Hall was quiet, most students having gone home for the holidays. Snow fell softly against the enchanted ceiling, and the crackle of the distant fireplaces was the only sound. At the nearly empty Gryffindor table, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sat in casual clothes, chatting quietly as they picked at their breakfast.

At the staff table, Professor Snape sat alone, his black robes stark against the festive garlands draped along the walls. A half-empty plate of toast and eggs rested before him, his movements precise and deliberate as he ate in silence. His pale face was impassive, his dark eyes fixed on his plate, betraying no awareness of the few students scattered across the Hall.

Harry and Ron remained absorbed in their conversation, their laughter faint and unobtrusive. Snape made no indication he heard or noticed them. He sipped his tea with measured control, his presence as still and cold as the snow outside.