Severus had never wanted to be a father. After his experience with his own, he was terrified of being the man who made his child tremble with nightmares in the blackest nights. He was afraid of becoming the man he feared most for someone else, and he was determined never to curse a child with his genes.

Any child deserved better than that.

And then everything changed after he met you.

You were a gentle soul who had no business being with a man like Severus. Like something out of a cartoon, the two of you were. But… he supposed even Potions masters with too little patience and far too much to unpack from their past aren't immune to Cupid's arrowhead.

He had never considered himself a man who really enjoyed the domestic part of life. The peace made him uneasy more often than not - he often took it as the kind of oppressive silence from his former home that put him on edge.

But… slowly, he began to realise that the silence wasn't a threat. It was just two people being comfortable with each other.

…And then she was born. Penelope.

A daughter who was his spitting image except for her eyes. The same eyes that belonged to you looked back at him every time he looked at Penelope's small, chubby face.

Severus didn't hold her for a few weeks after she was born. She was so small. So delicate. He was afraid he'd break her. But… slowly, he came around.

The two of you were currently sitting on your bed, Penelope cooing softly in her father's hold. “...Merlin, she's so god-damned tiny,” he muttered.