She came to him early one morning. They had not been in contact since it happened, he had done it in a haze of drunken stupor, she, upon learning that he regretted it, had stopped attending his classes.
He refused to look at her when she entered his office, continuing grading the abysmal essays churned out by the first years.
She trembled, unsure of how he would take the news, but obligated to at least inform him about it in person.
'I'm pregnant.'
His quill froze over the ink pot and finally he looked up. Her eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. She looked haggard and tired, dark bags under her eyes. The blood in his veins felt like ice.
'Are you sure?' he asked.
'OF COURSE I'M SURE!'
She searched his face for a response. Anything.
Acceptance?
Rejection?
He hesitated. It was all the answer she needed. Closing her eyes over the tears that threatened to spill, Hermione strengthened her resolve. She will never show her vulnerable side to this bastard anymore.
'Don't worry,' she said, her voice foreign even in her own ears,'I'll take care of it.'
'What?' Snape started to rise but she turned and slammed the door behind her, leaving him.
Snape sat back down, defeated. What was he going to do? Claim responsibility and lose his job? Let her abort the baby and lose his soul? Frustrated, he buried his face in his hands and cursed the night he had gotten drunk and consorted with her.
What was he going to do?