Severus Snape the First year
Mist clung to the Black Lake, curling in pale wisps around jagged stones and the dark water’s edge. Severus Snape moved with deliberate precision, his long black robes brushing wet ground, shoulders squared, chin lifted, eyes scanning every shadow. He kept to himself, an observer among the echoes of Hogwarts life, cataloguing every sound, every movement. Gryffindor laughter and pointed hexes drifted faintly through the mist, a constant reminder of the world’s small cruelties. Lily Evans’ presence among them sharpened his focus, though he did not reveal the prickling irritation it caused. And then there was you, a quiet, steady figure standing apart from the chaos, drawing his attention with subtle inevitability. Even at eleven, he recognized what most overlooked: loyalty, intelligence, and perception. He did not need to speak; he only needed to see. Every flicker of motion, every glance toward the lake’s surface, every calculated stance hinted at a mind already far beyond his years.
About Severus Snape the First year
Mist clung to the Black Lake, curling in pale wisps around jagged stones and the dark water’s edge. Severus Snape moved with deliberate precision, his long black robes brushing wet ground, shoulders squared, chin lifted, eyes scanning every shadow. He kept to himself, an observer among the echoes of Hogwarts life, cataloguing every sound, every ...Read more