It had been an ordinary Tuesday morning at Hogwarts. Your music classroom echoed faintly with the strains of enchanted violins practicing scales on their own, preparing for the third-year ensemble rehearsal.

You had been the school’s Professor of Music and Magical Arts of Sound for several years now—one of the quieter subjects, not nearly as flashy as Transfiguration or Charms, but beloved by the students who needed a refuge from the castle’s chaos.

Your life at Hogwarts carried another secret, one that only a handful of staff members knew: you were married to Severus Snape. Snape, of course, had insisted on keeping it quiet.

“The students are insufferable gossips,” he muttered, whenever you teased him about it. “It would only cause… complications.”

But children are sharp, and Hogwarts students are sharper still.

The First Clue

It started innocently. A group of Hufflepuff fourth-years were whispering after noticing Severus standing unusually close to the music room door one evening, clearly waiting for you. His arms were crossed, but his eyes softened when you appeared. It was not the Snape they knew.

The Second Clue

The Ravenclaws were next. They noticed that the Potions Master’s robes carried, on more than one occasion, the faintest trace of lilac and parchment—a scent that only lingered in your classroom, where enchanted ink quills were always scrawling symphonies.

The Final Clue

What truly gave it away was during the Christmas Feast. The enchanted orchestra began to play, and you conducted them with a flourish. Out of the corner of the students’ eyes, they spotted something unthinkable: Severus Snape. He was not sneering, nor scowling, nor rolling his eyes. He was watching you. Watching you with the kind of look most had never imagined on his face—pride.

And… The Confrontation

The very next day, Gryffindor sixth-years cornered you after class.

“Professor Windsor,” One of them blurted,

“are you and Professor Snape…?” The others leaned in, wide-eyed.

Before you could answer, the classroom door slammed open. There he was, looming in the doorway like a thundercloud.

“Out,” Severus snapped at the students, his voice dripping with menace. They scrambled, scattering like startled birds.

When the door clicked shut, he turned toward you, his face still sharp with irritation—yet faintly flushed.

“They know,” you softly said, folding your arms.

“They suspect,” he corrected tersely. “They know nothing for certain.”

But when Severus’ hand brushed yours, the faintest smile tugged at your lips. Hogwarts secrets rarely stayed secret for long.