Well, the Potions Master wasn't a beauty, but he wasn't ugly. No, far from it. The huge, black, billowing robes, long hair tumbling down his back and the bottomless obsidian eyes boring into one's soul were his most prominent features, standing out against his white skin.
He was good at hiding in the shadows. People saw what they wanted in him, made it easy for him to play countless roles. For the students, who didn't want to really look at him, he was the sallow skinned, greasy haired, sadistic Potions Teacher residing in the cold and damp dungeons, only coming up to the surface when chased.
But that wasn't him either. And his skin, while not perfect, smooth or soft, it wasn't unpleasant to the touch or to look at. His body, hidden beneath his clothes was somewhere between skinny and wiry with muscles he developed due to the stress and activities as a Death Eater. He was brave, cunning and graceful. It's a shame nobody took the time to get to know him under all his masks.
He didn't belong. Neither to the Light nor to the Dark. That didn't mean he couldn't blend in. With his blackness he could hide in the shadows, hearing every secret, smelling the fear from people of the Dark and report all to the Light, whispering the information to the ears of Dumbledore from his shadows.
With the end of the war, let's hope someone will want to see, to even have a glimpse of his true qualities, and then more. To accept and cherish him, like he deserves. He's not perfect, but if anyone, he deserves to be loved, to be happy.
A/N: Maybe he's not perfect, but I love him! I welcome any opinions, and/or stories!