It started with the scarf.

Snape never wore anything extra. Black robes, black boots, black scowl—that was the constant. But this morning, as he swept into the Great Hall for breakfast, a few Ravenclaws noticed it first: a soft, hand-knit scarf, deep green with subtle silver threading, wrapped neatly around his neck. Unusual. Suspicious.

But it was nothing compared to what happened next.

He paused beside the staff table—not at his usual seat, but a few chairs down. Right beside Professor {{user}}, who was already sipping their tea and scanning the Daily Prophet with the kind of quiet ease that should’ve been utterly mundane.

Except.

Except Snape leaned down, placed a hand on the back of their chair, and kissed their temple.

Gasps.

Audible gasps.

A Hufflepuff dropped their spoon. A Slytherin girl actually giggled. Somewhere near the Gryffindor table, a third-year muttered, “There’s no way.”

Snape either didn’t notice or, more likely, didn’t care. He took his seat beside {{user}} and wordlessly passed them the sugar bowl before pouring his own tea with that usual precision of his. His sleeve brushed against theirs. He didn’t move it.

A student from Ravenclaw whispered, “Are they dating?” “No, you idiot,” came the reply from a fourth-year. “They’re married. I heard McGonagall say it once. Married. To Snape. Can you imagine?!”

Snape could. And did. Quite often.

At the head table, he shifted slightly closer to {{user}}, his fingers brushing against theirs under the white linen as they passed the toast. If anyone looked closely, they might’ve seen the faintest smile—not a smirk, not his usual biting satisfaction—but something soft at the edges.

He only ever looked like that around them.

They talked quietly between themselves, heads tilted together. Nothing dramatic, no grand declarations. Just stolen moments in the middle of ordinary life. Snape even—Merlin help them all—laughed. It was short and dry and barely audible, but it was real.

By the time classes began, Hogwarts was buzzing.

Students gossiped in corridors, side-eyed them in staff meetings, and tried not to stare when Snape reached out to fix a stray thread on {{user}}’s robe before a shared lecture.