Severus Snape: The Half Blood Prince

*(34) The Rakish Riddle

Her life had forever changed in this dark and foreboding mansion, the epicenter of malevolence and treachery, and she knew there was no turning back from the path she had chosen.

As she continued to observe him, Sophie noticed the subtle play of light on his features, accentuating the chiseled contours of his face. The dim lighting in the room seemed to heighten the intensity of his crimson eyes, casting an eerie glow that sent shivers down her spine.

The smoothness of his skin, untouched by the passage of time, was remarkable, almost otherworldly. It held an ageless quality, like a masterpiece preserved in time, untouched by the ravages of life. The faintest hint of movement danced upon his lips, a ghostly echo of the charming smile she had encountered in the diary all those years ago.

As she traced her gaze downward, she noticed the slight angularity of his jawline, lending an air of authority to his countenance. The elegance of his features was contrasted by the faint traces of a subtle scar, barely visible, etched near his left ear—a reminder of a long-forgotten duel, perhaps.

His appearance, she thought, bore the hallmarks of both a timeless enigma and a darkly magnetic presence. The strands of his glossy black hair, caught in the occasional flickering light, seemed to shimmer with an allure that drew her closer.

Comparing him to the 16-year-old Tom Riddle she had seen before, his appearance had transformed into something altogether more serpentine than a 50-year-old man. He exuded an aura of power, a magnetic charisma that commanded attention, just as a snake would captivate its prey. Although there were no traces of grey in his hair, they remained hidden by the glossy waves, each strand seemingly delicate and vibrant, as if imbued with an otherworldly vitality.

His nose, she observed, had taken on a more pronounced and tapered shape, reminiscent of a cobra's poised fangs, ready to strike. Yet, despite the subtle shift in his features, he retained a touch of his original human-like quality, the faintest hint of vulnerability in the way his nostrils flared with each breath.

The thinning of his eyebrows had accompanied a loss of muscle that limited his range of expressions, including anger. She couldn't help but notice a few unruly hairs sprouting in the middle, suggesting a lack of grooming or perhaps hinting at the ceaseless demands of his leadership and the countless tasks that occupied his time.

But what struck Sophie the most was his mouth. Once plump and full, it had transformed into a thin, poised line that seemed to speak of restraint and control. Like a newly sharpened pencil, it exuded a sense of readiness, as if prepared to etch its mark upon the world with each word spoken. There was an air of calculated precision to his movements, a testament to his careful consideration of every action and consequence.

As she continued to study him, she couldn't help but wonder about the weight of the burdens he carried. Behind that enigmatic exterior, what thoughts and emotions lay concealed? What price had he paid to become the feared and revered figure he is today? The transformation from the young Tom Riddle to the Dark Lord Voldemort was a journey of shadows and secrets that she could only begin to comprehend.

Yet, amidst the complexities of his persona, Sophie couldn't deny the allure he exuded, a dangerous charisma that held a strange fascination for her. Her thoughts felt like a whirlwind, torn between the loyalty she owed Severus and the curious intrigue that the Dark Lord ignited within her.

As she stood there, captivated by the enigmatic figure before her, she realized that her mission had taken an unexpected turn. She had not anticipated the visceral reaction his presence would evoke in her. The lines between duty and desire blurred in the face of this captivating darkness, and Sophie knew that navigating these treacherous waters would require a careful balance of loyalty, deception, and self-preservation.