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severusish · 2 years

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Discourse: how quickly do wizardkind or half-wizardkind actually age and how long do they live, and to what extent does their blood status affect the former (if applicable/if at all)?

TW: mentions of d*ath, d*ying, and the word d*ie/d*es, and the word tr*umatic.

Um. The HP fandom Wiki says that Wizardkind have a longer life expectancy than Muggles. I have known this for some time, and many of you will also have. But I wanted to investigate further. So here it goes!!

Source

Wizard life expectancy in Britain reached an average 137¾ years in the mid-1990s, according to the Ministry of Divine Health,[18] although the oldest wizard on record reached the age of 755 in late 1991;[19] wizards in general have a much longer life expectancy than Muggles,[20] usually living two or three times as long as their non magical counterparts, some living even longer than that depending on circumstances. In addition, seeing as James Potter's parents had him "late in life,” witches likely have significantly longer childbearing years than Muggle women.

I’m terrible at maths and I’m probably doing this wrong so please forgive me in advance AND do not hesitate to correct/roast me for my incorrect calculations, but anyway, here’s me giving this a go.

Now, obviously, life expectancy isn’t a fixed point. Just because you’re born in 1950 doesn’t mean that your life expectancy is fixed to the average life span from 1950. Medicine is always improving, and so is technology, so it could be that by the time you die, you end up living a lot longer than the average lifespan of your region/country/area predicted. And with Wizardkind, Mediwizardry was probably evolving as well, helping Wizardkind to live longer.

The life expectancy in Britain went from about 70 at the time Severus Snape was born (1960), to just about 77 at the time he dies (1998). So at the time he died, his life expectancy, had he been a Muggle, should have been 2-3 times the average of 70 and 77, and he would have fallen ridiculously short of it.

[Muggle Life Expectancy] x [2 or 3] = [Wizarding Life Expectancy (WLE)]

When I say Muggle Life Expectancy (MLE), I mean at a specific Given Time X.

[LE at time of birth + LE at time of death] ÷ 2 = MLE

******(NOTE: in order to calculate average, you have to add up a group of numbers and then divide by the number of numbers that there are in said group. Therefore, MLE is a calculation of the average between LE at time of birth and time of death for a given character).

Therefore ∴, Snape’s MLE is:

(70 + 77) ÷ 2 = 147 ÷ 2 = 73.5

So, if we use Snape’s MLE then here’s an example of the equation in action:

73.5 x 2 = 147

73.5 x 3 = 220.5

So... I mean. Snape died at 38. 38 is 25.85% of 147. He only lived 25.85 % of the life he could have lived, had he survived the Battle of Hogwarts. If we consider that if he had lived to the year 2022, he’d have been 62 — but that is still only 42.18% of his WLE. He could have lived for SUCH a long time!!!!

This Wizarding Life Expectancy (WLE) for Snape would also apply for any of the other characters who were born around 1960, which include:

- Lily Potter née Evans (1960), died at 21, her life span was 14.29% of her WLE.

- James Potter (1960), died at 21, his life span was 14.29% of his WLE.

- Sirius Black (1959), died at 37, his life span was 25.17% of his WLE.

- Remus Lupin (1960), died at 38, his life span was, like Snape’s, only 25.85% of his WLE.

All of them, Severus Snape included, died in the canon before the end of the story. They could have lived SO much longer (if we accept the information given in the HP Fandom Wiki.) I’m not even including Tonks, Fred, Moody, and the countless others that died in the fight against the DE and Voldemort.

Now just for my entertainment let me use two other examples:

1. Albus Dumbledore (1881) (died in canon)

2. Rubeus Hagrid (1928) (did not die in canon)

1. Life expectancy for Muggles in Britain at the time Albus Dumbledore was born was around 44 years (YIKES ONLY 44). And at the time of his death, it increased to around 77.

SO!

Therefore ∴, Dumbledore’s MLE = 44 + 77 ÷ 2, which = 60.5

60.5 x 2 = 121

60.5 x 3 = 181.5

OKAY. Now for Dumbledore, he’d have been 116 at his time of death. What that means is that he lived more than twice the MLE in Britain from when he was born. Which according to the Source I linked above, is pretty much spot-on for Wizarding Life Expectancy (WLE). Dumbledore made it 116 years old, which is 95.87% of his WLE, which is 2 times the MLE calculated for his character. That is solid. Dumbledore WON in life.

Edit: @wellpresseddaisy made an excellent point about the Dumbledores and infant mortality rates in Britain in the 1880s affecting their MLE, which needs to be addressed so here is my information on that point:

Around the time when Aberforth and Albus were born, there were 329.04 child deaths per 1,000 live births. That means that for every 1,000 live births, there would be 670.96 babies that survived the odds at that time, and the rest would likely — and tragically — not make it.

Aberforth and Albus are part of the 670.96 children per 1,000 who survived past birth at that time. So their life expectancy needs to be calculated taking into account the fact that their survival is somewhat of an anomaly/exception.

See @wellpresseddaisy’s reblog, but basically: Dumbledore still lived for a hell of a long time, just shy of the x 2 LE, as @wellpresseddaisy said. So maybe slightly less long than what I calculated, if we take into account infant morality rates in the 1880s.

2. Now for Hagrid. Life expectancy for Muggles in Britain when he was born was between 58 and 59 years old; for now I’ll go with 59. He did not die; if we assume he would have lived until today, he’d have been 93 years old. MLE in Britain today is around 81-82 years old. For now I’ll go with 82.

Therefore ∴, Hagrid’s MLE = 59 + 82 ÷ 2, which = 141 ÷ 2 = 70.5

70.5 x 2 = 141

70.5 x 3 = 211.5

Given he didn’t die in canon, we can assume Hagrid still isn’t dead yet and won’t be dying any time soon. He could be among us now (mysterious music). Jokes aside — if he were alive today he’d be 93. 93 is 65.96% of the projected Wizarding lifespan he could have, based on my calculations.

So Hagrid, wherever he is, is out there chillin’, and he’ll be alive for a very long time. Then again who knows how many years Giant blood can add to or remove from the WLE.

NOW this is where things get complicated.

How do tr*aumatic injuries/events affect the lifespan of a Wizard/Witch?

(I’m thinking of George, McGonagall, Bill, Harry, and Severus. Potentially any Death Eater turned good, such as Draco, would also experience lifelong aftereffects from the Dark Mark).

That’s something to thing about.

Also —

My next question is: do Wizards/Witches have a less long life expectancy if they’re a Halfblood? Or is it enough for you to just have magical blood, and then you live two or three times as long as you would have had you been a Muggle?

Edit: Also, about status. Something I think about all the time is that Snape is a Halfblood with one of his parents being a Muggle and the other being a Pureblood Witch. Tom Riddle had the same situation — Muggle father, Pureblood Witch mother. But what about Harry? He had a Muggleborn mother (i.e. Witch of Muggle descent and not ‘pure’ Wizardkind descent) and a Pureblood father. Are you still a Halfblood if one of your parents is a Muggleborn Witch/Wizard, or are you a Pureblood because both of your parents are both Wizardkind with magic coursing through their veins? Or is Purebloodedness only measured by the ‘purity’ of your lineage over the course of generations/hundreds of years? I never could wrap my head around that nuance/technicality. Edit: Are you still a Muggleborn if you had like, only one Wizarding ancestor from several hundred years ago? Or does that immediately make you a Halfblood, if you have any Wizarding ancestry at all? What if that Wizarding ancestor was a Pureblood/Halfblood/Squib/Muggleborn themselves, how would that change your blood status? Are you only a Muggleborn if both of your parents have had entirely Muggle ancestors since the dawn of time, or can there be exceptions? Is being a Muggleborn Witch/Wizard a complete anomaly or is it just probability? If you are the first Muggleborn witch/wizard from a 100% Muggle family, does that mean that the Wizarding gene appeared randomly in your family starting with you, or does it already exist inherently in your blood or somewhere in your family history without anyone knowing? Is magical ability a dormant gene or something that’s passed down even if it has to skip loads of generations to get to you? Does your existence as a Wizard/Witch in a 100% Muggle family increase the odds that other newborns in the family may also be wizardkind? JUST SOME THOUGHTS.....

And —

How is your life expectancy as a Witch/Wizard who’s Muggleborn? Or again, is it enough for you to just have magical blood, and then you live two or three times as long as you would have had you been a Muggle?

The main implications from this (Muggleborn life expectancy) ^ are:

If you are a Muggleborn, you will outlive your parents and likely some of your Muggle friends and other relatives.

And while I’m at it...

Squibs???? Life expectancy???? Um -

- Argus Filch (born pre-1951) (Caretaker of Hogwarts since 1968) (did not, I repeat did NOT die in the canon)

We have no idea when this absolute legend man was born. Pre-1951 is highly ambiguous. All I know is that he didn’t die in canon and he was born before 1951, and in the films he looks WAY older than Hagrid. So let’s (this is my new random Headcanon for Filch) say he was born in 1900.

Life expectancy in 1900 in Britain was 46.81. Life expectancy today is around 82.

Therefore ∴, Filch’s MLE = 46.81 + 82 ÷ 2, which = 128.81 ÷ 2 = 87.81.

87.81 x 2 = 175.62

87.81 x 3 = 263.43

Let me indulge. This mf (if we just accept my headcanon based on his older appearance in the films and not his canonical age which frankly would be fantastic) (but also he could be born in the 20s, 30s, 40s and I’d still be happy with this), if we assume he’d still be alive today, this guy would be 121 years old. And that is still not even how long he could live. He could live to be 130, 145, and so on, until the age of 175 and beyond. We know nothing about Filch, he’s a complete unknown and he is ANCIENT. (Edit: again, his LE may have been affected by child mortality rates, but for now my calculation is the one I’m using).

Conclusion: either way, being a Squib, at least in the case of Filch, definitely doesn’t equal a shorter life.

Next,

What about centaurs? Goblins? Merpeople? House-Elves? Veela?

AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE

If these characters had lived to the age of 147 (in the case of all characters who lived in the Marauders era and went to Hogwarts in the same year as Snape), then what would they look like as they aged? Would they look 60 at age 60, or would they look 30 at age 60? or 40 at age 60???? Because that changes so much for how we imagine the characters when we write them and draw them.

THERE IS SO MUCH TO CONSIDER HERE AND NOT enouGH DATA AND IT’S DRIVING MY MIND INSANE PLEASE HELP

SOMEONE CONFIRM MY IDEAS OR CONTRIBUTE TO THE DISCOURSE

I need to know what people think.................

@benjami-n, @st-severus, @yletylyf, @zephyrphnomeny, @snapeysister @utterlybyrone, @wellpresseddaisy,

I’d love to hear what you (tagged) would say, for starters!

Thank you, - Severusish.

P.S. - Just to make sure you all know I’m not making this up, my sources for life expectancy and infant mortality in the UK (and the approximate numbers I’ve been using) come from trusted statistical resource, statisa.com, so Here and Here. For the percentages, I’ve been using a percentage online calculator, and for all other mathematical operations I’ve been using my own (actual) calculator. Thanks!

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ebenelephant · 2 years

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A Cosy Feeling - Loved Ones

December 1990

Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock chimes four.

“Tea, Severus?”

Albus’s hands are slender and long, with knobbly knuckles; his skin is papery and creased. Severus can count three sunspots just on his hands. There is another low on his cheekbone, and he wonders idly how pronounced the tan line on his face would be if the old man were to shave. Albus holds out a cup – for he knows that Severus will accept – and Severus pretends not to notice how it shakes.

They sip the tea mutely.

Severus relishes these quiet moments. The students have gone home for the holidays, and the corridors of the school are for the most part barren. The two men are in Albus’s quarters, a place free of paperwork, portraits, and silver instruments which ding and whir. Albus wore a cloak when they entered – pastel yellow, with finger-wide mustard stripes running horizontally; Severus likes it more than he will ever admit. He had shrugged it off immediately, revealing byzantium robes decorated with magenta stars and tassels, and now it hangs on a hook by the door over a smaller one the colour of coal that lay there forgotten for almost a week. Albus knows that when they leave later, his will smell of herbs stuffed into deep pockets; Severus is acutely aware that warm cinnamon follows him in a cloud after visits to the older man’s personal spaces.

“How is the tea, My Boy?”

He always uses that term. That endearing term. That possessive term. That term, which coils in his gut, and wraps around his heart, squeezing tightly, in a way just shy of painful.

“It’s good.”

It’s always good. It tastes of honey and blackberries, with a strange after-taste which Severus can only describe as ‘oak-ey’. Albus always refuses him when he asks for the blend – something Albus rarely does. It doesn’t stop him from asking.

“My own private infusion, Dear Boy,” he says with a smile and a shake of the head, “I can bequeath it to you upon my death if you are truly so desperate?” His ancient eyes shine with a youthful mischief, and the black-eyed man in the seat opposite snorts inelegantly. Severus picks up his cup, inhaling the aroma, then brings it to his lips and sips. He gives an exaggerated moan of bliss.

“Don’t say things like that, old man. I may have to kill you.”

Albus chuckles heartily; silver tassels and magenta stars jump as his robes shake from the shoulders. Severus smiles indulgently; his real smile, the one that reaches his eyes and doesn’t look predatory.

They talk long into the night, and when he returns to his quarters in the morning, Severus will smell of cinnamon and gingerbread.

The clock ticks on.

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pet-genius · 2 years

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Sacred Fire - Snolidays 2021

Here is my second entry for the Snolidays Winterfest of 2021! I hope you like it! Also on Ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/35433259! Thank you @dementedlollipop once more for your invaluable beta-reading skills! [Imagine a picture of Severus having an epiphany looking at a candle]

Severus sat on his threadbare sofa, at home in Spinner's End, frozen motionless. He remarked to himself that he must look like some sort of half-melted ice sculpture, legs and arms splayed this way and that, with his hair stuck to the back of the chair behind and him looking like spilled, congealed ink. Dumbledore was dead and Severus had killed him. Count on the two of us, to end up in this stand-off, the great Dark Arts hater begging me to kill him with the darkest spell of all. Severus knew loss and he knew familiar guilt. His preoccupation with the fate of his soul seemed now too little, too late, a childish delusion that the world wanted him to be okay in the end.

The air shifted, and Severus raised his head. Or rather, his head raised itself: the song emanated from the walls, from the floor, from the very world, and he recognized the sound. The phoenix, Dumbledore's bird. It came to him, it honoured his loss. It knew the truth. His legs were sore (he had recently been chased by a Hippogriff), yet he got up, and stood straight, trying to absorb the music like a sunflower basking in the sun. It was healing, almost like Phoenix tears might have been. Where are you headed, Fawkes? He wondered how long Fawkes had before he would be born again, and if shedding his current form - magnificent as it was - would be hard. He wondered if Dumbledore was truly gone if that bird still soared above them all.

Why a phoenix, why the Order of the Phoenix, why this phoenix?

He wished he could change places with Fawkes, burn to ashes and rise again, and escape, fly away while singing his song to the world. As the sound died out, he lit a memorial candle. A silly Muggle tradition, but he did not want the moment to end just yet.

As he watched the dancing flame, something ignited in his brain. Fire was perhaps the most magical of elements with, its endless beauty, its eternal and uncapturable form. Like magic itself, it was dual in nature, giving light and warmth and just as easily, destroying. Learning to control it was the beginning of all civilization; the delusion that one could control it spelled the end of many. Fire sustained life, and fire ended it; fire consumed wood and coal and petrol as it was used to cook food and sanitize and purify; fire filled the air with putrid smoke and was the witch hunters' preferred method of execution.

Yet, someone had once managed to isolate the chaotic and destructive side of fire, creating a flame that only ever destroyed. It took extraordinary skill to control Fiendfyre, and playing with it was rarely well-advised indeed. Severus wondered: Could the reverse apply? Could a flame burn that would only give life, and warmth, and light? Could a fire exist that consumed only the rot, leaving intact the healthy and whole?

And why didn't you think of it before, you utter dolt? He asked himself. Dumbledore with one arm, but ambulatory, vexing Severus with jabs, secrets and the odd compliment once every few years, would have been many times more useful than Dumbledore in his present state.

But then, Dumbledore had a phoenix. If the phoenix did not cry on his hand, cursed black and shrivelling, it could only be because it would be a waste of tears. And Severus knew all too well that ruminating on what he might have done differently was a mere distraction from the crashing sadness. Why, after all, start there? He could have chosen differently, realized something sooner, at so many other points. Who could tell if it would have made a difference? Life could be lived only forward. Nostalgia, anger, even guilt - all distractions. The road lay ahead of Severus, long and lonely, and all he could do was deliver on his promises to the dead. Though the phoenix’s song died out, Severus realized it still sounded from within his mind. He’d never considered himself very musical, yet the exact pitch and timbre, the beautiful melody, still echoed in his head, and the rhythm made it so Severus could move and breathe again. Keeping a beat as he walked along the road ahead - he could do that.

It had to be possible. If a phoenix could burn in a flame that consumed nothing else, and be reborn, purified and free of all the agony of his previous life, a sacred fire was not merely theoretical, and igniting one - Severus felt - would be a more appropriate way to grieve the greatest magus than sweating in his two-by-two, growing out his toenails and drinking the leftover elf wine from last summer.

***

“Music, a form of magic more powerful than anything we teach here,” Dumbledore had once said.

Hogwash. The old man had said many stupid things in his day, but none more stupid than this. But you tried everything else, Snape. Over weeks and weeks of experimentation ranging from futile to outright dangerous, Severus had tried every potion, every incantation he could dream up. He tried to set a Patronus on fire, for fuck’s sake. He had nearly burned the entire block down when he sampled different types of magical firewood. Granted, this could only make the place more sightly, but it was hardly what he was going for.

So be it, Albus, he told himself, and the song came to him as easily as it might have if Severus had made a recording. His wand vibrated, but nothing happened… I have to actually sing, don’t I?

Of all the dreadful things he had to endure, Severus supposed singing to himself would not be so bad. He struggled for a moment to hit the right key, his vocal cords better-suited for and much better-practiced in delivering insults than in singing to himself like a ponce. He closed his eyes and let the sound of his own voice envelop him. That way, he could imagine it was not him singing.

But this is not so bad, he found. Singing forced him to stay in the moment, lest he missed a beat; it forced him to feel, and it forced him not to crumple into a sobbing heap even as he felt them to the fullest.

The room grew warm, and he opened his eyes. A flame danced before him, and he caught it in his hand, and it grew bigger and brighter as he sang to it, yet Severus was safe. He would have loved it. She would have loved it. It grew larger, brighter, and he could not sing anymore - even he was just a man, and he had to breathe before he could sing more.

Yet, even in silence, the flame did not die. Severus passed his hand through it, and thought about his dad extinguishing candlelight between two calloused fingers. For lack of better words, the fire he’d created felt like thick air, his own song suspended before him. He remembered his childish delight at the way his breaths condensed in the cold, and here was his own breath again, tangible and distinct in the middle of August, mixed with particles of magic that kept it from disappearing into the atmosphere.

You are not guilty and you deserve to live, their voices sang back to him. The dead he had made his promises to, the dead for whom he lived. And he knew then that he had just outdone them all, all his enemies and all his masters. When all of this is over, maybe I’ll learn to play an instrument, Severus decided.

#snolidays2021 #snapecelebration2021 #fic #severus snape #pro severus snape #snape fic #snape love

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shuaib1220 · 2 years

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In light of recent Snape winter festivities, I thought it would be appropriate to put my talent to work: I present a very festive Raisin Snape who has a cold. It exemplifies the beauty and complexity of Snape and Raisins 🥺

#snapecelebration2021 #snolidays2021 #severus snape #snape art

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myobscureimaginarium · 2 years

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Snolidays - Week 4: Celebration - Feast & Anticipation

11-year-old Severus had heard rumours of the Hogwarts' magnificent Christmas feast

#Also added clementines #The feast surpassed even his wildest dreams #Eyes sparkling with anticipation #severus snape #severus #snape #procreate #professor snape #my art #harry potter #myart #prosnape #severussnape #snolidays2021 #snapecelebration2021 #snapecelebration #young Severus

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chipartwork · 2 years

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Snowfall.

#harry potter #severus snape #snape #digital #art by me #snolidays #snapecelebration #snapecelebration2021 #spent forever on this

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snapecelebration · 2 years

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The Snolidays are almost upon us! ✨

The theme for the first week of December is “Light over Darkness”, and the prompts are (in no particular order): oil&sugar; few vs many; candle; identity; family; sacred fire; miracles.

This year, Hanukkah is 28 November through 6 December, and one of the fest organisers, who is Jewish, chose the most fitting prompts! However, works featuring any holiday, or simply winter-themed content, are welcome!

As a reminder, the themes for the following weeks are:

2nd Week: Snowfall (starlight, a warm drink, ball, blizzard, thin ice, snow globe, shivering)

3rd Week: A cosy feeling (traditions, ornaments, presents, the longest night, carolling, loved ones, fairy lights)

4th Week: Celebration (anticipation, mistletoe, reunion, feast, giving, coal or clementine, rebirth)

The themes and prompts are meant strictly as a source of inspiration, so feel free to combine them however you like! For example, a single piece could cover prompts from different weeks.

We're excited to see all of your creations, whether they be art, fanfic, headcanons, meta - including works that feature ships!

Happy Holidays! 💚💚💚

#severus snape #snape #pro snape #snape community #snolidays2021 #snapecelebration2021 #snape event

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hbprophetie · 2 years

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EDIT: THE ENHANCED VERSION IS HERE 🤗❄

First - what is coming is a work in progress, and it's really rought,

Secondly - I post it nonethless, as..."Merry Christmas" ❄

(You have to read it from right to left. You owe it to my too japanised brain, I'm really sorry I just noticed afterwards that I wrote it as if it was a manga....)

25.12.1981, Hogwarts grounds.

It's a bit angsty, yet comforting. Hope you'll enjoy this little messy wip.

Snape and Dumbledore just had an important conversation. I'm not a very good writter for dialogues, so what it was all about is very much up to you.

As the wizarding world painfully mends its wounds in the aftermath of the first war, Severus struggles to recover from the loss of Lily.

I have always liked to imagine how this period of Snape's life could have been like. I have tons of little thoughts and ideas that I would love to put on paper someday. I imagine it may have been an horribly hard time to get through. And it's interesting that Lily's murder happened only a few weeks before winter, which is both a season of silence and solitude, where days get colder and shorter and noises are covered by the snow, but also a moment of reunion and happiness with its celebrations - a mean for some to enlighten the darkness, especially in the aftermath of such cruel times. All of it gives me a lot of perspectives to wonder about. What a strange era it must have been for the wizarding word - so much peoples and families broken, so much to reconstruct. A time of sadness and mourning, yet hope for a brighter future.

I decided to go with a comforting Dumbledore for this snippet. I always consider different interpretations of his character when it comes to his behaviour towards Severus at this state of the story. I don't know how and if such a scene would take place in canon. Many find Dumbledore cruel in "The Prince's tale". All in all, Dumbledore still has a soul and Snape is obviously on edge and suffers from deep emotional grief. I simply don't think Dumbledore would outrightly ignore anyone who would be in such a state.

As for Snape, I don't really think he would display such vulnerability and indulge himself in crying in front of Dumbledore in any other circomstances, but he undoubtly was pretty depressed at the time. He surely wears his hood and his hair messy, black strands jumping in front of his eyes to conceal the turmoil, but he would certainly struggle to fight the tears if Dumbledore's words cut right to his soul.

I'm sorry that I couldn't clean up the whole thing on time - but I wanted to post it for Christmas. I focused a lot on the expressions instead of delivering very well constructed characters and backgrounds.

I'll put further work on it after Christmas and deliver a more polished version. Do not hesitate to give me your thoughts, I'm still not sure of how I want it to finally turn out. For now, I hope you'll like it.

And I wish a merry Christmas to anyone who will read those words, whoever you are and however you spend this day. ♡ A very, merry Christmas, my fellow Snape fans. ❄

#severus snape #harry potter fanart #harry potter #pro snape #snape community #fanart #snape fandom #snolidays2021 #snapecelebration2021 #albus dumbledore #snape and dumbledore #hogwarts #wip #winter #christmas #merry christmas

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paynesnape · 2 years

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Liquid vapors slipped up from bubbling brews. Dark shadows slipped to and fro around the room. The hissing and popping of the fires would make others jump considering no other sound was heard. Not even from the two stationed by the workbench in the center.

Golden rays danced from vials laid out on the table, a kaleidoscope of colors flickered upon the ceiling. It was all eerie and mysterious. The taller of the two figures gently sprinkled the last ingredient in, sweat slipped down both their brows and the youngest of the two brushed it away quickly. Not wanting it to fall into the potion.

Yes, a potion. Perhaps the most dangerous one in the world.

"It's changing papa," the smaller ones voice said.

"Mother of pearl sheen," the older male said as spiraling steam came off the potion.

"The fire, quickly put it out."

The younger did as she was told and waited until he sighed in relief "It is finished."

"It worked then?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes child, you did good." His baritone voice was hinted with pride, a small lip twitch made her think he was going to smile but it never came.

"Amortentia, this is amazing," she said moving closer, his hand stopped her as he arched a brow "do you really wish to test this theory that werewolves are immune?"

She nodded her head and inhaled slightly "I read that the scent is multi faceted. That even if it's a love potion it's based on what someone likes. So if someone smells fish does that mean their love is a mermaid?"

"I have..never considered that question Sirin, I do not find myself brewing this often if at all." Severus called the potion bottles to the table "Test this theory quickly so that I may dispense the potion and label them. "

She walked up and sniffed, The smell of falling rain, of earth that has been dug up and.."Bacon."

"Bacon…" He arched a brow giving her a questionable look.

"I smell bacon, fried just right. Dark and crunchy.." she said smiling.

"In your twenty some odd years, have you ever met anyone that smelt of bacon?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"nope! so as i said we are immune!" she replied.

A knocking was heard upon the lab's door, she moved to allow him to answer it and began carefully spooning the potion into the bottles.

She heard voices but could not make out what they were saying. His lab at Hogwarts had been small and inefficient , this lab was the size of a quidditch pitch.

"Remus, to what do we owe this honor?" Severus asked, opening the door and instantly regretting it.

"I uh, I brought Payne some lunch, you to if you don't mind burnt bacon," Remus said chuckling.

"Burnt…." Severus ran a hand over his face, as clever as his daughter was , somethings were right before her and she did not see them.

"Sirin! Your date has arrived. Be gone before the lab smells of burnt meat!" he called and heard her squeal with glee and the call of food. She hugged him tightly which made him simply pat her head "yes child. have ...fun."

She looked up and beamed at him, he could still picture her as a child waddling behind him. His lips twitched again.

"Oh papa?"

"Yes Sirin?"

"Happy Valentines day,"

"Hmph, if i must return the sentiment , Happy Valentines,"

"Oh and papa?"

"Child, you do not ususally keep the wolf waiting…"

"i know i know but..I love you papa!'

For several minutes he didnt reply. It was not often they spoke of feelings. She knew he loved her, he knew she loved him. She might not be his blood but she was every bit his.

Her hand was on the door ready to close it when he called out "Sirin?"

"Yes papa?"

"I love you too.."

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