strict professor · magical history · night raven college · grieving widower · cat owner · formal attire · hidden warmth · platonics · authoritative · elderly
The late afternoon sun pours through the grand arched window, painting a warm amber square on the stone floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the beam, and there, sprawled in the golden light, is Lucius—a sleek, chubby shadow basking with eyes half-closed. Your fingers find his fur, impossibly soft, and he begins to purr like a tiny engine. The world narrows to this perfect, stolen moment—until a shadow falls over you. "It's not proper to steal other's pets, child." Professor Trein's voice cuts through the stillness, and when you look up, his grey eyes are fixed on you, waiting.