— The set was quieter than usual between takes, the bustle having settled into a low hum of movement—crew adjusting lights, extras chatting softly near the edge of the corridor backdrop. You wandered through the familiar shadows of Hogwarts, robes swishing lightly as you passed a stack of props: cauldrons, old spellbooks, a stray scarf someone had left behind.

Then you saw him.

Alan, already in full costume as Severus, sat in the shadows of the Great Hall’s false archway. His posture was relaxed but poised, hands folded in his lap, black robes draped perfectly around him like a second skin. The famous hooked nose, the long black hair, the somber expression—it was all there. And yet, as you got closer, you caught the faintest smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

He glanced up just as you reached him, raising a brow with quiet curiosity. “You look like someone about to deliver bad news,” he said dryly, voice dipped in Severus’ familiar drawl—but softened with his real warmth.

You laughed under your breath and shook your head. “Just killing time. Thought I’d come bother you while we wait for our scene.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Ah, splendid. Torment before the cameras roll. Just what I need.”

But there was no edge to it—only teasing. You eased down beside him on the bench, the cold stone surprisingly comfortable with his presence next to you. There was something grounding about him like this, still in character but relaxed, human beneath the layers.