The witch’s brow furrowed, it was an interesting trio she had received from the Potions Master, himself. Inhaling a slow breath of air, Hermione looked up at the dark wizard.

“Sir, I see you as my best friend. As crazy that may sound, I do. You’re loyal, intelligent which is great for conversing with one another. Not only that, you are a very caring person to those you care about. As for Lucius Malfoy, well we have an interesting history and I highly doubt he would want a wife with my bloodline. So I would put him as my brother. So that would leave Remus to be my husband. Yes, I know he is a werewolf but I don’t mind that one bit. He is quite smart, loyal and I truly believe he would make a great husband for me.”

{{Since Hermione doesn’t have a relationship with your Severus she didn’t pick him to be her husband. (though she would have picked him to be her husband). I hope that is perfectly fine. She and I know you are happily married to Poppy.

(( This was an RP between myself and @masterseverussnape done in Google Documents & reposted here with permission. ))

“Papa, is Mr. Bricriu nice?” asked Abigail as she held her father, Severus Snape’s hand and skipped up the path to The Library entrance.

Abigail had picked out her favourite dress of white crinoline with yellow daisies embroidered on the hem and the puffed sleeves. She had told her mother, Poppy Pomfrey-Snape earlier that she had picked the dress out specifically for “Mr. Bricriu”.

“Calleo Bricriu is a fine fellow, Abigail. I believe you shall like him,” assured Severus.

“I hope he likes me,” smiled Abigail. “Do you think he likes yellow, Papa? It’s the flavour of the sun. Lemon, you know?”

Severus rolled his eyes heavenward and silently cursed the ghost of Albus Dumbledore for giving his child a taste for lemon, yellow, and most especially, lemon sherbet sweets.

“So I have heard, my dear,” Severus replied patiently. “Do you remember what I told you about The Library?”

“It’s full of priceless books and I don’t touch anything unless I am given permission.”

Severus smiled softly and brushed the raven curls that fell to Abigail’s shoulders. “Very good, my girl.” He then knocked upon the door that inexplicably was the only part of The Library to be seen.

Calleo re-read the short letter he had received by owl that morning as he took his breakfast.

Calleo,

I have analysed the “residue”. The analysis went quite smoothly, and it was further telling. Rather fascinating! I shall explain when my daughter and I visit this afternoon.

Severus

…and then came a polite knock upon the hidden door that  was seldom ever used.

Calleo smiled.

This should be interesting.

He’d spent time around younger cousins before, but none quite as young as Severus’ daughter.

It would either go smashingly well, or somewhat awkwardly sideways, but no use thinking about that now; it wasn’t as if he were going to be left alone to fend for himself with a small child.  He only had to keep her out of her father’s hair while he did a bit of reading, and that couldn’t be that hard.

“Hullo there!” Calleo bent down a bit to hold his hand out to Abigail, remembering that his mother had long since drilled into him that you greet the ladies first, “You must be Abigail, yes? That’s a very pretty dress you’ve got.”

Glancing up at Severus, Calleo gave a nod toward the door behind him, “Suppose we ought to go inside and let your father get to work.”

He straightened after giving Abigail time to properly greet him, “I look forward to the analysis of whatever was in that vial, Severus; as I mentioned, whenever the Department of Mysteries adamantly doesn’t want something, it raises several little internal alarms. They always have a reason, even if it occasionally turns out to be ‘it’s nothing useful’.”

“The way of government whether one is wizard or Muggle.” He could feel his daughter practically vibrating with excitement. “Perhaps we should get Abigail settled, Calleo, and then we might speak.”

“Papa?” asked Abigail as she crooked her finger to whisper at him. Severus sighed but bent down to lend an ear. After a moment he nodded. He then straightened and faced Calleo. “A ladies room, first, it seems.”

Calleo pointed and then waited as his guests were taken care of. When they emerged…

“I’m all better now,” announced Abigail. “Papa told me you have sea monsters, Mr. Bricriu!”

Severus glared. “I never…!”

Calleo snorted back a laugh, “I have Braxford, but he’s a bit too fat and not-scaly enough to be a sea monster. I do have numerous books about sea monsters, though; some of them even have pictures,” he added.

“They’re really only called monsters in Muggle books, though, since they don’t really understand them or are frightened of them.” Calleo stopped himself and gave a silent reminder that Abigail was only four and probably not interested in that sort of discussion, “Would you like to see some of the books that have pictures in them while your father and I talk?”

“I trust that you’ll be careful with them.” He stepped over to a shelf and carefully removed a couple of books that had more than enough illustrations in them to keep a small child occupied, “We wouldn’t want them to end up unreadable by anyone else, after all. Do feel free to ask any questions you might have.”

That—might have been a mistake, but the words were out, and it was too late to take them back now.

masterseverussnape (continuation of this ask thread)

A slight cold recently but taken care of with rest and stories read to me by Abigail. Poppy has immortalised the moment of our daughter reading to me from Winnie-the-Pooh whilst I consume chicken soup in bed.

Darling wife.

Abigail is convinced she cured me. She believes she will be a Healer now.

Darling child.

~Severus

That--is one hell of an image, I have to admit.

I’ve been lucky so far in avoiding colds or other various diseases, though I did accidentally mildly curse my right hand yesterday afternoon via not getting out of the way of someone else’s mistake fast enough. Still one spot that’s not quite gone just yet, but it is fading.

Other than that, I’ve been shuffled form the Archives to the Department of Mysteries on a--so I’m told--temporary basis, and talked them into letting @braxford take over my position; one of a very select few I’d trust not to completely cock it up, pardon my language.

Then, there’s that Hit Wizard, @r-preachanlann , that they’ve attached to me at the behest of a barmy old Auror who’s still convinced I’ll do I’m not exactly sure what. I don’t even know what @r-preachanlann does aside from nap in the chair by my temporary office’s door and occasionally get her wand out from in front of my face.

I suppose I ought to clarify that I’m not actually complaining; it’s all been quite interesting, if nothing else, and I imagine a bit of change keeps me from falling into a comfortable rut.

Tricky; most of the ones I adore on a personal level I also have memorised so losing the physical copies wouldn't send me into a spiral.

I think, at the moment, if I lost my access to the first edition of Æterna Discruciare I might come as close as I ever do to not wanting to face life for awhile, but only for the reason that I’m three fourths completed with transcribing it.

And the transcription is accurate (not meaning to come off as arrogant, of course, it’s more that I’m capable of copying word for word), unlike the existing translations, without having all of the nastiness of the curses, wards, and various hexes woven into the original text’s words and pages.

I’m not certain if I’d be upset by the lack of completion or the loss of access to the resource, but I suspect it’d be a bit of both.

(The owl itself, after having delivered the letter, will move to a safe, out of arm’s reach distance until it is either dismissed or given a reply to carry back. Should anyone attempt to pet it or feed it, it will hiss, back up further, and likely bite if the attempts continue.

The letter it carries is subtly, if not a bit heavily, warded. If intercepted or opened improperly, it will simply disintegrate. Clearly, the sender made the assumption that masterseverussnape would have no trouble figuring out how to get it open. The letter, of course, not the owl.)

Severus,

I’d apologise for the owl, but you’ve dealt with him before, I think. If not, my apologies. He has the personality of a severely hungover Scotsman.

But, I didn’t owl you to talk about my owl.

I would ask that you pardon the use of an actual owl, though. I couldn’t find a way to make the request short enough to be crammed into the little ‘ask’ without sounding terse. Brevity never was one of my stronger qualities.

As it turns out, during my very likely futile attempt to organise the disorganised, paper filled monstrosity that is the area on and around my desk at home, I came across some research notes on the analysis of the residue left by Nihilus that you’d done at my request. The residue came, in no particular order, from an inanimate, organic object, and a common rat; you had analysed it using magical means, and sent it off to a Muggle acquaintance who had experience in  their field of physics for his analysis on the material as well. Three blasted years ago. I know, I know, I’ve already given myself that lecture on keeping my work in order multiple times over the past week and a half.

I also noticed that I forgot to include those results as an addendum or, at the very least, set of margin or footnotes, on my own writings on the curse.

Given the nature of the writing, not to mention the subject matter, I would not wish to include your name, or even initials as they’d be very easily guessed, without explicit permission to so do. If you would prefer I not, I can either leave it unattributed, taking the credit myself by implication (which, from an academic standpoint, made me cringe even as an idea), or use a pseudonym in place of your name or initials.

One of those dodgy areas of “Do I want my name attached to this?” and all.

Feel free to publish this particular correspondence, if you wish.   Once the warding is undone it’s all normal paper and ink again, after all.

I thought it best to contact you in private in case it wasn’t something to which you’d want your name publicly attached.

Rules: Put your music device on shuffle and list the first 10 songs. No skipping.

Arabella- Arctic Monkeys

What's my age again?- Blink 182

Kill me- The pretty reckless

House is not my home- Zebrahead

Not ready to die- Avenged sevenfold

The city- The 1975

Na na na- My Chemical Romance

What's it feel like to be a ghost?- Taking back Sunday

Nobody's hero- Black veil Brides

When the sun goes down- Arctic Monkeys

I tag masterseverussape black-veil-edits hermioneshour thelonelyfruit getintunee bohemian-bums lost-in-another-daydream