At Hogwarts, the title of "professor" represents far more than just the duty of passing down magical knowledge.
It's not simply about awarding or deducting House points for student behavior.
A professor carries the profound responsibility of guiding young witches and wizards down the right path in life...
The greater the power, the greater the responsibility.
Every action a professor takes—their values, their character—inevitably influences the minds of those still growing.
And even more so when that professor is the head of a House...
Stepping into Snape's office, it became clear—maybe not the full picture, but enough to understand why Slytherin had such a dismal reputation across Hogwarts.
Because quite frankly...
Snape's office wasn't exactly... cheerful.
And it wasn't just the dim lighting.
Lining the shelves were hundreds of glass jars filled with slimy, unidentifiable specimens—plants, animals, Merlin knows what—all suspended in vibrant, viscous potions. The sight was enough to make anyone's skin crawl.
Even the most iron-willed young wizard might flinch at such a display.
In one corner stood a locked cabinet, filled with the rare and precious potion ingredients Snape had personally collected.
And right now, Draco was standing directly in front of it...
...
Watching Draco march right into the office and head straight to the cabinet like he owned the place, the ever-stoic Potions Master finally cracked.
For the first time since entering, Snape's expression changed—visibly irritated by Draco's behavior. It was as if some unpleasant memory had been triggered.
"Draco, don't act like those greedy, foolish goblins."
"Step away from my cabinet. Now!"
If any Slytherin students had witnessed this, they would've been stunned.
Yes, Snape was their Head of House, and yes, he was respected—even feared—but no one had ever seen him lose composure over a student before.
To his students, Snape was the embodiment of icy indifference.
Even the infamous Weasley twins from Gryffindor never dared provoke him outright...
But Draco's reaction was equally baffling.
Not only did he ignore Snape's stern warning, he leaned in even closer.
His pale gray eyes gleamed like a dragon spotting a mountain of gold—sharp, unblinking.
No. That wasn't admiration.
It was greed.
"This is unicorn hair, isn't it?"
"And from a young one too."
"It's exactly one of the ingredients listed in that potion book. I never thought I'd see it here—what a rare find."
Rare find, your Merlin-blessed arse!
Completely oblivious to his own tone—and the way he was basically claiming the ingredient for himself—Draco had crossed a line.
Hearing this, Snape was just about ready to whip out his wand and hex him on the spot...
"I didn't call you here just to have you ogle my potion ingredients like a greedy little thief!"
"But... as my godfather, don't you think you owe your beloved and brilliant godson just a tiny bit of help?"
"You little—"
Looking at his godson—brilliant and dazzling in his own right—Snape couldn't deny the surge of pride and satisfaction that rose within him.
In Draco, he saw flashes of his younger self.
Obsessed with the Dark Arts.
Fascinated by spell invention.
Even in potion-making, the boy showed a natural talent that might one day surpass his own.
And yet...
"That doesn't mean you can help yourself to my potion stores."
He never should've brought the boy to his office!
...
Draco's presence had at least prompted Snape to grudgingly light a few candles, reducing the gloom of the room slightly.
The added light even made Snape's normally greasy hair look almost—dare one say it—tolerable.
In the corner, a cauldron bubbled over green flames, brewing what looked like an advanced potion. Judging by its hue and viscosity, it was definitely not beginner-level work.
Only someone of Snape's caliber could manage such a concoction solo.
So while this space was officially his "office," in truth, it functioned more like a private potions lab.
Draco was seated on what was probably the only chair in the room meant for guests—a carved, high-backed seat that looked entirely out of place amid the shelves and cauldrons.
"Godfather?"
Draco looked up, confused. Snape's expression was even more sullen than usual.
Ahem.
He'd only taken a little bit of potion ingredients. Was that really worth getting stared down like he'd just burned down the castle?
Clearly, Snape didn't quite know what to do with the boy.
Finally, with a deep sigh, he got to the point.
"Your parents sent me a letter."
"What did they—ah, never mind. I can probably guess."
Draco's expression shifted—something between awkward and embarrassed.
That alone made the corners of Snape's lips twitch upward, just slightly.
Of course, on his usually blank face, the motion was all but invisible.
"It can't be my mother's cookies... it's barely been a day."
Draco was still a minor, after all.
No matter how mature he acted, it was still hard for a young wizard to fully accept parental concern—especially in front of others.
Even if that "other" was his own godfather.
"Naturally, your father also asked me to keep an eye on you."
"Of course he did."
"But don't expect me to help you bend school rules. I've got better things to do."
Draco shrugged.
Even though his family was one of Hogwarts' governors, he had never once considered using that influence.
Especially not when his godfather was both the Head of Slytherin and the Potions Master.
Besides, Draco's pride wouldn't allow him to stoop to such underhanded tactics anyway...
Still, hearing from his parents made him feel oddly content.
"If you run into any trouble with your classes, you can come to me—but keep your hands off my rare ingredients!"
"And with that supposedly clever brain of yours, I expect you can find your way back to your dormitory without assistance."
As he spoke, Draco instinctively reached out to accept a small paper bag of cookies.
In the next instant, Snape whipped out his wand and, without the slightest gentleness, shoved him right out the door.
"Now, go to bed!"
Bang!
"..."
Staring at the door now firmly shut in his face, Draco's eye twitched.
Yeah... he knew his godfather pretty well.
Turning around, he glanced down at the unicorn hair and potion ingredients still in his hand.
Draco chuckled softly.
Snape might be his godfather—but he was also an irritable, secretly soft-hearted tsundere.