Snape x Reader: Medicine

(F/n) was utterly and absolutely miserable. This was most definitely due to the horrible cold/flu that had taken her by storm several days prior, but knowing didn’t pacify her in the slightest. The woman was plagued by a nasty fever, chills, a sore throat, and a lung wrenching cough that was quite similar to a death rattle. She had visited the doctor sometime ago, but he had told her that other than rest there was nothing to do but wait. Which she had accepted. . . Until she had been woken up by a looming figure. . .

From where (F/n) currently lay beneath a pile of quilts in her lovely bed, the woman gazed groggily at the person that now hovered above her with apprehension. Though she was somewhat out of it due to how crappy she felt, the woman was well enough aware to flash an off-looking grin at the tall figure that looked down at her with unamused obsidian eyes.

“Hey handsome,” (F/n) croaked as a way of greeting to the wonderfully familiar man that now watched her with an unmoving expression.

For several seconds it seemed like the man wouldn’t answer before he spoke- completely ignoring her welcome.

“I leave you alone for four days. Four days (F/n); and this is how you care for yourself?” The annoyance and disbelief behind the deep drawl made the woman grin again- though the action was somewhat hindered as she had a horrible coughing fit at that exact moment.

As she gasped for air and cringed at the pain shooting through her chest and throat, the man quickly muttered a strange word under his breath. Within moments a small bottle had flown into his hand (called by magic) and he was pulling out the stopper and offering it to the now quieting woman.

“(F/n) you know where I keep my potions. Why haven’t you dealt with your illness?”

(F/n) shrugged underneath her fortress of covers and didn’t move to accept the healing potion that he proffered her.

“I have to be careful Severus, you know that.”

“Oh by Merlin’s beard . . . What are you going on about?”

(F/n) looked at him purposefully before lowering her gaze to her torso. “I can’t take anything that’ll hurt him.”

As she said this, the woman watched as understanding shone through her husband’s beautiful obsidian eyes. She had been told by her doctor that she was lucky to be pregnant at all, after having a strangely shaped womb, and the woman would be buggered if she’d do anything to jeopardize her little boy’s life now that she had him.

Slowly, Severus sat down on the edge of the bed, and put a steady hand to his wife’s bulging belly. Though the old Potion’s Master had never been much of a romantic, he had a definite love for his wife and their unborn son, and it was clear now as he looked at (F/n) with a softer regard.

“The potion will not harm him.”

“But the doctor told me no medicine-”

“A Muggle doctor. Muggle medicines,” he interrupted as he gestured for her to open her mouth and take the strangely colored liquid. “Potions do not have the same effect on pregnant women, or so I have learned. In fact, rather the opposite.”

“Opposite?”

“Indeed. Certain potions are considered healthy for a fetus and will help with growth and formation.”

(F/n) thought on this for a long moment. “So there aren’t any side effects for taking it?”

“Other than getting well?”

(F/n) gave him a skeptical look and he sighed. “No, (F/n). No side effects. Now drink it before you get worse.”

For a minute it seemed like the woman would protest, but after another long staring contest with her husband, she opened her mouth obediently. With a deft hand, Severus poured the contents of the bottle down her throat and replaced the stopper back firmly into place.

There was no immediate cure - it would take at least five hours for her to regain all her faculties- but the woman could already feel a pleasant warmth spread throughout her chilled body. Slowly the potion began to work on her battered throat and groggy head with a relief that made her smile. And for the present she was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice when Severus shed his cloak and outer robes and moved to lay beside her under the comforters. It was only when (F/n) felt his hand go around her waist that the woman was able to focus again.

“Your feet are cold, sweetheart.”

“No,” he drawled as he casually drew her closer to him. “You are just boiling hot. . . And no wonder, with all these blankets and the heating spells turned on high.”

(F/n) laughed hoarsely before she snuggled deeper against him. It had been almost a week since the woman had seen her husband- which wasn’t unusual seeing as she was unable to enter Hogwarts during the school year. Being a muggle with no magical talent (though her mother had been a witch and she had been raised with the knowledge of the Wizarding World) (F/n) wasn’t allowed on the grounds. Which meant that Severus had to leave her company for the week of lessons that he was obligated to teach. But each Friday after the school week was concluded, he would come back home to the little house they shared and spend the weekend with her. And as more time passed and (F/n) drew closer to her due-date, the Potions Master spent less and less time away. (Which the woman was absolutely grateful for as she missed him terribly.)

“How were the lessons?”

“Unproductive and disappointing, as always,” came the bored reply, though the woman knew better. Severus was far from an easy man to understand, but his passion for brewing potions and the darker facets of magical knowledge were easy enough to spot. And the lack of talent or interest his students showed always dampened his spirits.

(F/n) placed a hand to his as she began to slip back into a foggy sleep, despite her wishes to spend time with him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. . . You’ll be able to teach our little one soon enough, and then we’ll have another prodigy in the family for me to chase around.”

(F/n) was almost asleep as the slurred words passed her lips and the potion began to have a more potent effect on her. But if she had been alert in that moment, the muggle woman would have seen the hint of a smile in Severus’s eyes.

“Not a prodigy,” he whispered as he let his hand rest firmly against the spot where his son currently slept. “I believe a ‘Godsend’ would be more appropriate. . .”

In her sleep, (F/n) smiled- for her cold was beginning to dissipate and she was cocooned by the two loves of her life: her son and her snarky yet surprisingly lovely husband.