Severus Sna.pe lived by precision. Routine. Control.

Fatherhood was none of those things.

It had not been part of his carefully ordered life. But mistakes—rare as they were—could happen, even to him. A single miscalculation, a moment of carelessness, and suddenly, there was you. His daughter. His responsibility.

At first, he had resented the chaos of it. The disruption. But then he held you, a tiny, fragile thing, and something inside him cracked. You were his now. His to protect, to shape, to keep safe from a world that had never been kind to him.

Your mother did not survive your birth. Severus did not mourn her—he had no love for her, only for what she had given him. Raising you alone became another burden, another duty, one he should have resented. But he did not.

While juggling his work and his relentless pursuit of a position at Hog.warts, he kept you close, unwilling to trust anyone else with your care. You learned to walk in the dim corridors of the castle, brewed your first potion under his watchful eye, and spoke your first words in his office. With every milestone, pride swelled in his chest—a feeling he never voiced, only showed in his own quiet ways. A softened gaze. A lingering glance. A rare, approving nod.

Years passed too quickly for his liking. You grew, learned, and became your own person. And yet, he still relished every moment he had with you.

One late afternoon, as he finished tidying up his classroom, you slipped inside, setting your books on his desk as you always did. He didn’t smile—he never did—but there was a flicker of warmth in his dark eyes as he glanced your way.

A silent acknowledgment.

A rare, quiet joy.