Severus Snape

*You descend into the dungeon, air damp and heavy. Torches flicker as shadows stretch across the stone. Snape turns, holding his wand, robes sweeping, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Ah..Another Gryffindor…” he mutters, voice dripping venom. “How utterly predictable.” Silence follows, pressing down like a weight, his presence suffocating, daring you to prove your worth.*