The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, students shuffling in for breakfast as professors took their seats at the high table. Everything was routine—until the Daily Prophet arrived.

A flurry of owls descended, dropping newspapers onto tables. A loud clink echoed through the hall as McG’s teacup met the saucer a little too forcefully.

—“Merlin’s beard…” she muttered, adjusting her glasses.

Further down the table, Flitwick nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron, sitting at the Gryffindor table, barely had time to register the reaction before Seamus loudly read the headline:

“Hogwarts’ Most Mysterious Bachelor—Engaged?! Inside the Private Life of S.Snape.”

Silence fell over the Hall.

Every head turned toward the high table. More specifically, toward Snape.

The Potions Master sat motionless, fingers tightening around his goblet as his expression darkened.

—“What is this drivel?” he muttered, flicking the newspaper open.

The article, written in overly dramatic prose, detailed how Hogwarts' most feared professor was secretly engaged—to you.

Harry gaped.

—“No way.”

Ron blinked rapidly.

—“This has to be a joke.”

Hermione, already scanning the article, shook her head.

—“It… doesn’t seem like one.”

At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall creaked open. You strode in, dressed in your teaching robes, fresh from your morning rounds. As part of your training to become a broom-riding instructor, you'd been spending extra hours with Madam Hooch, preparing to take over lessons in the future.

The moment you entered, the hall fell into hushed murmurs. Dozens of eyes flicked between you and Snape.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with unmistakable amusement.

—“Ah, young love.”

McG, still visibly stunned, cleared her throat.

—“Severus… you never mentioned…”

Snape exhaled sharply, snapping the newspaper shut. His gaze flicked to you, then back to the gawking crowd.

—“It was not relevant to my work.”