Shadow of Legacy

Veils of Kindness

As Saturday arrived, anxiety gnawed at me. I paced the room, rehearsing the details of the impending event. Just as I began to settle my thoughts, a light knock echoed from the door.
When I opened it, I caught a glimpse of my professor's dark figure framed in the doorway, impatience radiating from him.

"We shouldn't arrive late," he said, his gaze flickered over my dress, assessing, before our eyes met again.

"Yes, we should probably leave," I replied, my heart racing under his scrutiny.

"Remember to play your part, Miss Blackwell. There is no room for mistakes."

"Yes, Professor. No room for mistakes," I echoed, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

He offered his arm, and though I hesitated, I took it, my skin cold beneath his touch. The warmth of his presence seemed almost foreign to me now, but there was no turning back.
As we apparated, the world blurred around us, collapsing into a whirl of colors until I landed unsteadily on my back outside my parents' grand mansion. Snape merely raised an eyebrow, his annoyance palpable.

"Never apparated before, Miss Blackwell?" he sneered, masking any hint of concern with sarcasm. A wave of irritation coursed through me as I stood, brushing off the pain in my back.

"Are you planning to stand there any longer, sir?" I shot back, striding toward the imposing entrance, flanked by looming trees.

Once arrived , Snape knocked on the heavy door, straightening as he offered his arm in a formal gesture. Though it was more of a necessity I saw the flicker of discomfort in his dark eyes. The door swung open, revealing my parents, smiles plastered on their faces.

"Severus! What a pleasure," my mother beamed.

"Ravenna, Acheron. I appreciate your invitation,"
he replied, his voice smooth yet strained. My parents acknowledged me with nods, welcoming me into their domain.

"Your attendance is requested in the dining room," my mother gestured, leading the way toward muted discussions already underway. As we walked, Snape noticed my trembling hands and took them gently, placing them once more on his arm, casting me a warning glance to not mess this up.

Entering the dining room, I recognized familiar faces from past gatherings, all watching us with interest.

"Ah, the happy couple. How... delightful." Barnabas Cuffe exclaimed, his voice dripping with malice.

"Severus, Alvira, sit and tell us about your young... love," my father said, his smile too warm, too stretched. It still felt unsettling to see him like this—so different from the father I once knew. That smile, as unnerving as it was, had a coldness to it that sent a chill down my spine.

We took our seats, and after a few moments, Snape began. "It is my duty, to express our esteemed... connection to those gathered here."
His words were precise, calculated, but there was something in the way he spoke—something that made my stomach twist with discomfort. I was both repelled and mesmerized by the authority in his voice.

"At this juncture, I wish to propose my intention to seek your daughter's hand in marriage."

My father beamed with pride, his expression almost too pleased. It cut into me like a blade.
"My dear friend Severus, how could I refuse such a request?" my father said, raising his glass in a mock toast. "I look forward to the union of our families."

The clinking of glasses felt hollow in my ears. A tear slipped down my cheek, quick enough to evade notice, but I felt it—hot and raw—burning a path down my face. Snape's gaze flickered over me, sharp and assessing, but he remained silent, his indifference a bitter reminder of our arrangement.

The evening devolved into a cacophony of laughter and conversation. I sat between Snape and my mother, overhearing two men discussing the "Muggle problem."

"We should burn them. They're not worth our spells," one man said, his voice thick with venom.

The other nodded in agreement, leaning closer as if to share a secret. "It's a matter of purity, you see. We must cleanse our world of their kind. Only then can true magic flourish."
My stomach churned, the words sinking into my chest like a stone. The conversation continued, too vile to ignore.

"It will change, Corban. He will return to power, and justice will be served," the first man replied, a glint of fanaticism in his eyes. "The Dark Lord will show no mercy to those who are unworthy."

My heart pounded—He will be back. The realization struck me like a physical blow. I was inside this world now, and my friends, my true family, were in grave danger. I could hardly breathe.

"Imagine a world free of Muggles," one man mused, almost dreamily. "Our children would grow up without their influence, without the shame of mingling with them."

Bile rose in my throat. I couldn't bear to listen to another word.

"Please excuse me..." I managed, my voice barely audible as nausea overtook me. I rushed from the table, stumbling toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of reprieve.

As I collapsed onto the cold tiles, the world faded.
After what felt like an eternity, I began to surface from the fog, a voice cutting through the haze.

"Miss Blackwell... don't make a fool of yourself," Snape said, his tone filled with disdain. "We need to return. People are starting to ask for you."

I could hear the irritation in his voice, but it felt distant, muffled.

A few moments passed, and though I remained unable to move or respond, I sensed his presence nearby.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a few more seconds, almost sounding shy. His voice softened, a surprising break from his usual sharpness. I could feel the coolness of a cloth as he pressed it against my forehead.

"How can you always manage to put yourself in situations like this?" he murmured, letting out a heavy breath. I was sure he thought I couldn't hear him, but I did. Every word, every movement of his.
That little sign of kindness made my heart flutter and gave me so much hope regarding our future.

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This is btw the dress I'm imagining for this. Feel free to change it of course <3