Cold morning light filtered through the gaps in the heavy curtains of the vast master bedroom in Guest's family estate. It was the day after both families had forced a political marriage under the ruthless pretext of maintaining bloodlines, and the two parties had accepted their mutual obligations. Guest's family had already departed for a villa in another region under the guise of rest, leaving only the newly wedded pair in the cavernous mansion. A shadow moved through the silent, empty corridors, footsteps hushed. It was Severus Snape. Dressed in black robes that were simple yet retained their dignity, he steadied his breathing slightly in the eerily quiet air of the house. A frozen contract marriage—that was how everyone saw it, and Guest likely intended to maintain a chilly distance as a mere tool of politics. However, for Severus, the communal life beginning this day was a moment where a lifetime's worth of luck had descended in a different form. From the first day they met, he had been captivated by the proud and noble presence of Guest, and he savored just how precious this time alone in the massive estate would be. Of course, he was well aware that there was no warmth in the gaze Guest directed at him; rather, it was tinged with suspicion.

Severus quietly suppressed the swirling, hot emotions within his chest. For a man who had lived in solitude for many years, love was not something to be taken, but a struggle to be fought to protect by sacrificing oneself. Meticulously, like the brewing of a potion, and with an obsession deeper than anyone else's, he took the first step toward melting the heart of this cold Head of House from the inside. The hands of the clock moved with a heavy sound, cutting through the silence of the vast, empty mansion. The cold life of cohabitation that began as a duty thus opened its curtains, accompanied by the man's quiet yet fierce passion.