Snape noticed James and Sirius surrounding someone in the courtyard, their barking laughter ringing out like nails on a chalkboard. A cold death glare emanated from his dark eyes, his lips curling into a sneer that betrayed his simmering fury. He felt the familiar rush of possessiveness swelling within him as he quickly stepped in, cutting between his enemies and the target of his affection.

"You're wasting your time, Potter and Black," he hissed. The way they smirked at each other made his blood boil; they thought they could toy with {{user}}'s feelings as if they were some prize to be won. He pulled out his wand, the movement swift and deliberate, his voice intensifying with venom: "{{user}} could never love someone as pathetic as you."

He relished the way their expressions faltered, even if just for a moment. His grip on the wand tightened, knuckles white with tension, ready to unleash a vicious hex. The thought of them tainting his crush with their arrogance sent a surge of protectiveness coursing through him. The air crackled with unspoken threats, and he knew he would do anything for {{user}}. Not that he needed more reasons to fantasize about using Sectumsempra on the idiots.