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ruzz9 · 1 month ago

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Unintended Witness / Part II

Summary: After Hagrid’s revelation, Minerva is determined to uncover the truth about Severus Snape’s mysterious lover.

A/N: You don’t need to read Part 1—unless you’re up for another good time haha

Dedicated to @yaboyguzma69

part I & part II / spaicy bonus

In case you were wondering what happened to Hagrid’s creature from part one: no worries — it was found in the Slytherin common room. Poor man was heartbroken over how they treated his Moony…

Content/W: Dramaaaa, Humor, Tension, Significant Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Mild Mention of Barrier Methods, Emotional Vulnerability.

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Ever since Hagrid had whispered that absurd confession —a woman, in Severus Snape’s bed, asleep— Minerva McGonagall hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

During breakfast, she pretended to read the Prophet, but the words slipped right through her mind. The rumor had settled squarely between her brows with uncomfortable persistence —somewhere between disbelief and... a hint of guilty curiosity.

Snape, with someone.

Snape, allowing closeness.

Snape, in intimacy.

The idea wasn’t just improbable. It was disconcerting.

She knew she wouldn’t get answers with a direct question. He would deny everything, withdrawn as ever.

So she turned to her other resource: patience.

Over the following days, McGonagall began watching more closely. Sometimes as a colleague, sometimes as a feline. Her Animagus form allowed her to slip through corners and corridors unseen, without raising suspicion.

She didn’t follow him constantly. Only when her intuition called for it —as if something inside her knew when he was hiding something. There were moments —brief, surgical— in which Severus disappeared without explanation. He left his classes with impeccable punctuality, but then delayed his return. Or came back from corridors that didn’t connect to his usual routes. He didn’t talk to anyone more than usual. No visible changes. But there were absences. Interstices. Silences.

As if he knew he was being followed. As if he were daring her to catch him.

McGonagall was no novice. But Severus was a master of evasion. Sometimes she lost his trail with such ease it felt insulting. On one occasion, she waited for him at the bottom of the east wing stairs —she knew he had gone up— and yet, she never saw him come down. He vanished.

She watched him, and still couldn’t reach him. There wasn’t a single gesture out of place. No trace of foreign perfume on his robes. Not a word, not a glance. Snape moved as always. Rigid, acerbic, and composed.

It was maddening.

She couldn’t bear it anymore. Giving in to her unease, she decided to confront him directly —though without abandoning propriety. The time had come to inspect his quarters. She could no longer delay the inevitable; she had to find out the truth, one way or another.

That same evening, she knocked firmly on the Potions Master’s door, which he opened without delay.

“Minerva?” Snape’s voice sounded as surprised as it did irritated. He wore his usual black robe, though slightly disheveled. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I don’t intend to inconvenience you, Severus,” she began calmly. “But I find myself obliged to conduct a review of your quarters. Protocol.”

He didn’t respond immediately. He only tilted his head slightly.

“Protocol? Is there a formal complaint?”

“Not exactly. But when certain observations come from a member of staff, the Heads of House are expected to ensure decorum is upheld. Especially regarding... nighttime visits.”

A muscle in Snape’s cheek twitched.

“I’ve had no such visitors.”

A tense silence fell between them. “Then there should be no issue,” Minerva said, stepping in with firm resolve, not waiting for permission.

Snape followed her with his eyes, irritated, with an almost ironic resignation.

Minerva began to examine the room calmly, her eyes sweeping over every surface with clinical precision. She opened the wardrobe (robes perfectly aligned, of course), the bedside table (wands, ink, a couple of battered books), looked under the bed (no sign of foreign lingerie or feminine shoes). The room smelled of sage and something deeper —incense, perhaps.

Everything appeared to be in order… until, on a high shelf, between an alembic and a jar of dried leaves, her gaze stopped on an opaque, glazed ceramic container. It had no label, but seemed placed there with some intent.

“And this?” she asked, frowning.

“A jar,” he replied dryly.

She picked it up with both hands, opened it carefully… and inside, arranged with suspicious meticulousness, were small, elongated silver packets, wrapped in a shiny material. She pulled one out delicately, examining it between her fingers as if it were an unusual rune.

“Curious design. What exactly are these?” she asked. It seemed familiar—something she had vaguely seen before, though she couldn’t quite place when.

Severus paled, then blushed, then paled again.

“Muggle artefacts,” he replied, jaw tight.

“And how are they used?”

He blinked, as if he hadn’t expected the question. Cleared his throat.

“They’re not... not commonly used. At least not in our context. They serve... practical purposes.”

“Practical how?” she pressed, stepping a little closer to the light to examine one.

“Minerva, please,” he said, his voice edging into a plea.

“Come now, Severus. You said it’s Muggle. Does it explode? Inflate? Is it edible?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Minerva!” he exclaimed, equal parts horrified and exasperated. “They’re private. For personal use.”

She blinked. Then looked at him. Then at the jar.

“Oh...” she finally said, bringing a hand to her lips in a gesture of modesty and confusion. “I see.”

A moment of absolute silence. Then, with unshakable dignity, Minerva returned the small packet to the jar and replaced the lid as if nothing had happened.

“I doubt that very much,” he muttered, setting the jar back in its place with unnecessary precision.

Minerva exhaled slowly, defeated by a resignation that went beyond embarrassment. To her, Snape wasn’t just a colleague. She had watched him grow, mature, transform —through hardship— into the man before her. She cared for him with an almost maternal devotion, though she sometimes struggled to admit it, even to herself. And this situation… deeply unsettled her. She needed to know the truth. She couldn’t just imagine —with all the darkness that implied— that he would dare bring strangers into the castle. Or worse… become involved with a student.

“Severus,” she said, softening her voice. “I’m no longer your professor. But I am your colleague. And your friend, though you go to great lengths to pretend otherwise.”

He looked at her warily, saying nothing.

“Aren’t you going to tell me who’s sharing your nights?”

“I’m not sharing—” he began in his usual defensive tone, but Minerva stopped him with a raised eyebrow.

“Please. I’m well above hallway gossip, but when Hagrid blushes while talking about a beautiful woman sleeping soundly in your bed, I can’t simply look the other way. And you,” she added, pointing at him lightly with a finger, “with the emotional subtlety of a rock, don’t hide it nearly as well as you think. Something’s going on. Who is it?” she concluded, her tone inquisitive.

Severus huffed, not responding, his gaze shifting away.

“Severus…” Minerva insisted, now more serious. “You can’t have strangers here. The rules are clear: no visitors unrelated to staff, and no... ladies of the night. This is a school, not a brothel.”

“For Dumbledore’s beard, Minerva!” he protested, unable to mask his shame. “I haven’t brought prostitutes into Hogwarts.”

“I don’t mean it like that. But I do need to know if it’s someone from within the castle. For discretion, for safety, and because you’re a Head of House, Severus. You must set an example.”

Silence followed. Long and heavy. For a moment, she thought he might say it. That he would let it slip. His gaze softened slightly. He looked down. Opened his mouth… but said nothing.

The confession broke in his throat before it was born. A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, barely perceptible, betrayed him. Minerva knew him too well. She knew when he was silent out of stubbornness… and when it was to protect someone.

She drew in a deep breath, folding her arms with practiced patience.

“I’m not here to judge you, Severus. But if it’s someone who works within these walls, I need to know. Not because I care about your private life —believe me, I wish I didn’t have to interfere…”

Minerva took a step forward. Then another. No longer as a colleague, but as a woman who had seen too much, and who still carried that motherly instinct for those who had once been her students.

“Is it someone I should be worried about?” she asked, her voice now soft. “Someone with power over you? Or is it you who holds power over her?”

The question shook him—too accurate. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the thought hurt him.

“It’s not what you think,” he said at last, his voice lower than before, almost a whisper. “It’s not a fling. She’s not a student. I don’t have time for that. And even less... the will to expose myself like that.”

Minerva’s expression softened, relieved for what it wasn’t.

“Then... who?”

He held her gaze. Long, intense, as if searching in her eyes for a way to avoid the answer. Words that would have come to him with surgical precision in any other situation now eluded him. Something held him back. Something overwhelmed him.

Without a word, Severus walked to his desk. He opened a drawer with deliberate, almost mechanical movements. He rummaged through it, and after a few seconds, took out a sheet of parchment, folded several times.

He handed it to her silently, not looking at her, as if its contents could speak in his stead.

Minerva unfolded it carefully. It wasn’t a letter. It was a drawing.

A portrait, inked, with precise lines brimming with emotion. A woman, in profile, asleep. The linework captured something intimate and serene. A face she recognized. She was neither a professor at the school. Nor a student. None of that.

But Severus had drawn her with unbearable tenderness.

Minerva looked up. He was watching her in silence, with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability she hadn’t seen since he was sixteen. Her fingers still held the drawing, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

“Her?” —she whispered, narrowing her eyes.

She knew that face. From training meetings, in the hallways where young staff moved about. One of the new faces roaming the castle with youthful enthusiasm.

“Is that… Y/N?” —she asked at last, though she already knew the answer.

He didn’t nod, but neither did he deny it. A blink, a held breath, a glance that strayed for just a second—more than enough confirmation.

Minerva raised a hand to her forehead.

“By Morgana... She’s barely a trainee, Severus. She’s been here three months. She’s under my direct supervision.”

“I know,” he said, and the way he said it—with no shield at all—was what unsettled her most.

“Since when?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!” she snapped, arms crossed. “She’s not a student, but she’s not your colleague either! She’s twenty-five and still learning how to control a classroom without being steamrolled by third years. For Merlin’s sake, Severus, she’s still in training!”

“And I haven’t taken advantage of that,” he replied calmly, though through gritted teeth. “She’s no innocent, Minerva. She has more fire than you imagine. I didn’t pursue her. I didn’t coerce her. If you think I preyed on her position, you’re wrong.”

“What I believe is irrelevant,” Minerva said, her voice just barely cracking. “What others will perceive, that’s what matters. What if someone else finds out? What if she doesn’t know what she’s doing? Or worse—thinks she does, and regrets it later?”

Snape stepped closer, in that measured way he had when the storm raged inside his chest, not his voice.

“I’m not foolish enough to think this is simple. But this is not a fling, Minerva. Nor a whim. It's something more solid than that ”

“more solid?” she repeated, skeptically. “I can't believe this” Her distress was plain on her face.

“I’ve spoken with her more than I’ve spoken to anyone in years. She listens to me. She contradicts me. She looks at me like I’m not the sum of all the history you and the others can’t forget.”

Minerva closed her eyes for a moment. She felt the vertigo of that truth. He had always been a solitary, sharp-edged figure. And yet, here he was. Vulnerable. For someone so young, so removed from his world…

“Does she know what this means?” she asked at last, her tone gentler. “What you might be dragging her into?”

“She knows enough. And still… she stays.”

Minerva drew a deep breath, battling discomfort, concern, and that other feeling she didn’t want to name: a sting of protective jealousy, like a favorite student had been taken from her.

“I can’t stop it,” she said finally. “But as her mentor, I warn you: if this interferes with her development, if it tarnishes her reputation, if I see even the slightest change in her performance—I will intervene. Hogwarts is not a playground for poorly managed affections, Severus.”

“It’s not a game,” he replied quietly.

She looked at him for a long moment, with a mixture of sorrow and forced acceptance.

“Then it had better be worth it.”

And without another word, she left the room, her cloak billowing behind her like a half-made decision. Inside, something cracked. It wasn’t quite anger. Nor pure sorrow. It was, perhaps, the painful recognition that Severus Snape—her most inaccessible, most guarded, most wounded colleague—had found something precious... and heartbreakingly fragile.

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ms-snape · 9 months ago

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Severus snape x reader. She just find ou that she’s pregnant? And didn’t know how to say it to Severus.

Title: New Hope

Warning: none... exept stressed reader I guess...

Words Count: 2000+

Masterlist

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Y/N Snape had never imagined that standing amidst the lush greenhouses of Hogwarts, surrounded by the vibrant life of magical plants, she would feel so utterly lifeless herself. For weeks now, she had felt a gnawing sense of fatigue, the kind that no amount of rest could cure. Her usually nimble fingers, once adept at trimming and caring for the delicate blooms and exotic roots, felt heavy, sluggish. Nausea had become a familiar visitor, creeping up on her with increasing frequency.

At first, she dismissed it as overwork, perhaps an accidental inhalation of some stray pollen or spore. But when the dizziness grew so severe that she had to excuse herself from her third-year class, Y/N knew it was time to seek Madam Pomfrey’s guidance. She wasn’t one to visit the hospital wing lightly, but something was clearly wrong.

Now, sitting on the edge of a bed in the pristine, sterile room, she anxiously awaited Madam Pomfrey’s return. The soft hum of the enchanted ceiling above, designed to soothe patients with a gentle twilight glow, did little to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. Severus was busy in his dungeons, likely unaware that she had even left the greenhouse, and Y/N couldn't shake the nagging sense of dread building in her chest.

When Madam Pomfrey finally entered, her expression unreadable, Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, Professor Snape,” Madam Pomfrey began, her tone gentle but professional, “I’ve reviewed the results of the tests I performed.”

Y/N leaned forward slightly, her hands clenching in her lap. “Is it… is it serious?”

Pomfrey’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Not in the way you might think.” She paused for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully before continuing. “You’re pregnant, Y/N.”

For a heartbeat, Y/N didn’t react. The word hung in the air like a foreign concept, something distant and impossible. Pregnant? She blinked, confusion clouding her thoughts. Her mind raced through the possibilities, the implications.

“You’re sure?” she finally managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Pomfrey nodded, her eyes warm with understanding. “Quite sure. Based on the symptoms you’ve described and the tests I ran, I’d estimate you’re about ten weeks along.”

Y/N felt the world tilt around her, as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. Pregnant. She placed a trembling hand over her abdomen, where a tiny life was beginning to grow. This was real. This was happening.

“I… I didn’t expect this,” she murmured, more to herself than to Pomfrey. “I didn’t even think… Severus and I… we never talked about having children...”

The weight of those words settled heavily in her chest. Severus. How would she tell him? They had been married for nearly two years now, and though their bond was strong, they had never once discussed starting a family. In fact, she vividly recalled Severus’s past comments about children—his distaste for their unpredictability, his general discomfort around them. He had always preferred the solitude of his potions lab, the quiet precision of his work. A child would shatter that carefully constructed world.

Would he even want this? Would he be angry? Disappointed?

“I don’t know how to tell him,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “What if… what if he doesn’t want this baby?”

Pomfrey’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Y/N, I can’t speak for Severus, but I do know that he loves you deeply. Whatever his feelings about children may have been in the past, this is different. This is your child. His child.”

Y/N nodded, but the anxiety still twisted tightly in her chest. She thanked Pomfrey quietly before slipping out of the hospital wing, her mind spinning with the weight of the news she now carried.

The following days passed in a blur. Y/N moved through her classes on autopilot, her mind always half-distracted, her heart heavy with the secret she held. Each evening, she would sit with Severus in their private quarters, sharing quiet meals, but the words she so desperately needed to say remained lodged in her throat. She couldn’t find the courage to tell him, not yet.

It was during one of these particularly restless days that Minerva McGonagall caught her lingering outside the Great Hall, her eyes distant as students bustled past her. Y/N had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the Transfiguration professor approaching until Minerva’s voice broke through the haze.

“Y/N, dear, you look a bit peaky. Is everything all right?”

Y/N blinked and forced a smile, though she could tell by the narrowing of Minerva’s eyes that it wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine, really. Just… tired.”

Minerva’s lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp gaze piercing through Y/N’s weak facade. “You’ve been looking more than tired lately. I’ve seen you lost in thought during meals, and you’ve barely spoken to anyone. What’s going on?”

Y/N hesitated, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. She trusted Minerva, perhaps more than anyone at Hogwarts aside from Severus. But saying the words aloud—admitting the truth—felt too terrifying.

Minerva, however, was not one to let things lie. She stepped closer, her voice softening. “Y/N, I’ve known you for many years as one of my student then as a colleague and friend. I can see that something is troubling you. You can tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes before she could stop them. She hadn’t realized just how much she had been holding back, how much the weight of this secret had been wearing on her.

“I… I’m pregnant, Minerva,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Minerva’s sharp intake of breath was immediate, her eyes widening in surprise. “Pregnant?” she repeated, her voice filled with astonishment. “That’s… well, that’s wonderful news, my dear!”

Y/N shook her head, wiping at her eyes with trembling hands. “I don’t know if it is. Severus… he doesn’t like children. We’ve never talked about having them. I’m terrified that he won’t want this baby.”

Minerva’s expression softened with understanding as she gently placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Oh, Y/N,” she said quietly. “I can understand why you’re afraid. But Severus loves you. And love has a way of changing even the most stubborn of minds.”

Y/N sniffled, but the knot of fear in her chest remained tight. “What if he doesn’t want it, Minerva? What if he resents me for this?”

Minerva squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Give him a chance. He may surprise you. You’ve brought so much light into his life already, Y/N, you've chnager him in so many ways. A child… it could be a new kind of hope for him.”

Though her words were kind, Y/N still couldn’t shake the lingering fear. She thanked Minerva for her support, but as the days passed, her anxiety only seemed to grow.

It was three days later when Y/N was summoned to Albus Dumbledore’s office. She had been sitting in the greenhouse, mindlessly trimming the leaves of a Flutterby Bush, when a house-elf appeared with a note requesting her presence. Her heart sank immediately. Had Dumbledore somehow found out? Did he know?Did Minerva told him?

When she entered the Headmaster’s office, the usual warm glow of the room seemed more oppressive than welcoming. Fawkes let out a soft trill from his perch, but Dumbledore himself was quiet, watching her with those piercing blue eyes from behind his desk.

“Y/N, please sit,” he said, his voice kind yet commanding.

She obeyed, her hands trembling slightly as she folded them in her lap. Dumbledore watched her for a moment, the silence stretching on before he finally spoke.

“There is something weighing heavily on your mind, my dear,” he said softly. “I have seen it in your eyes these past few days. Would you care to share what troubles you?”

Y/N bit her lip, her eyes fixed on the floor. She didn’t know how to explain the storm of emotions inside her. But this was Albus Dumbledore—he had a way of knowing, even when she didn’t want to say anything at all.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, the confession falling from her lips like a weight she could no longer carry alone.

Dumbledore’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but his expression remained calm, thoughtful. “I see,” he said gently. “And this news troubles you.”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “We all know that Severus doesn’t like children.Plus we’ve never talked about having them. I’m afraid… I’m afraid he won’t want this.”

Dumbledore leaned forward, his hands clasped together atop his desk. “Severus Snape is a man of many complexities, Y/N. But if there is one thing I know about him, it is that he values you above all else. This child may be unexpected, but love has a way of blossoming even in the most unlikely of places.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her fears still gnawing at her heart. “What if he doesn’t want to be a father? What if this ruins everything between us, everything we've built during those last two years?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with that familiar warmth as he spoke, his voice filled with the wisdom of someone who had seen more than most. “Severus has spent much of his life building walls around his heart, but you, my dear, have already found a way through those walls. This child will not tear you apart—it will bring you closer.”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes once again, and this time, she didn’t try to stop them. “I don’t know how to tell him,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and crossed the room to stand beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Tell him the truth. Trust in the love you share. And remember, Y/N, that life is not a series of planned events, but rather a garden full of unexpected blooms. This child is a gift—a new beginning.”

That night, Y/N finally found the courage to tell Severus.

They were sitting by the fire in their quarters, the soft crackling of the flames filling the space between them. Severus was reading, his sharp eyes focused on the text before him, but Y/N could barely concentrate on the warmth of the room. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands clammy with nerves.

“Severus” she began, her voice trembling slightly. He looked up from his book, his dark eyes immediately locking onto hers with concern.

“What is it love?” he asked, setting the book aside.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I… I have something to tell you.”

Severus’s brow furrowed, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. “Are you unwell?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…gosh this so hard to say.... I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air between them, heavy and uncertain. Severus stared at her, his expression unreadable, and Y/N’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She had expected him to say something, to react, but he was silent, his gaze fixed on her as if he were processing the information.

Then, slowly, Severus rose from his seat and crossed the room to her, kneeling down in front of her so that they were eye-level. His hands, usually so precise and controlled, were trembling slightly as he reached out to cup her face.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re pregnant?”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she searched his face for any sign of rejection, any hint that he didn’t want this.

But instead, she saw something she hadn’t expected—joy.

Severus’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, his dark eyes softening as he looked at her. “You're carying....A child,” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “Our child.”

Y/N let out a choked sob, relief flooding her as she leaned into his touch.”I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sonner, I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this,” she confessed, her voice shaking. “I know you don’t like children, and I didn’t know how you’d feel about—”

Severus silenced her with a soft kiss, his hands cradling her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world. When he pulled back, his gaze was intense, filled with a depth of emotion that took her breath away.

“I don't like children who aren't when they are insufferable eleven years old students...I never thought I could have something like this,” he said quietly. “A family. With you.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling with love for the man who had once seemed so distant, so unreachable. “Are you… are you happy about this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Severus’s smile widened, and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes—a hope she had never thought possible.

“I’m more than happy,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m honored, I'm proud. I can’t wait to meet our child.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as the fire crackled softly in the background. She had been so afraid, so certain that this news would drive a wedge between them, but instead, it had brought them closer than ever before.

In that moment, as Severus held her in his arms, Y/N knew that everything would be all right. They would face this new chapter of their lives together, hand in hand, ready to nurture the life growing between them.

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