December 13th.
As dawn's light flooded the room, the twin boy and girl woke almost in unison, leaping from their beds with boundless energy.
"Good morning, Sofia! My dearest sister, happy birthday!" the boy shouted, throwing himself at the girl in her negligee, hugging her tightly and planting a kiss on her cheek.
Sofia, with a playful pout, said, "I lost!" but returned the hug just as fiercely, kissing his cheek. "I wanted to say it first! Good morning, Luis! My precious brother, happy birthday!"
Cheeks pressed together, they squeezed each other tight, then clasped hands, fingers entwined, and dashed down the hall, their slippers slapping the floor. Luis kicked open a door, Sofia pushed it, and the poor thing crashed to the ground, hinges shattered. Unfazed, they trampled the fallen door and burst into the room, leaping onto the figure still wrapped in blankets.
"Good morning, Father! Thanks for this day!" Luis cried.
"Father, still sleeping? Today's a special family day!" Sofia added.
"—!" The bed's occupant, their father, Severus Snape, groaned, clutching his aching sides as he sat up.
"…Luis… Sofia… are you trying to crush me to death?" he said, his cold, piercing gaze enough to intimidate most.
But the twins, undaunted, flashed beaming smiles and kissed his cheeks again.
"No way! We just wanted to celebrate this day as soon as possible!" Luis said.
"Exactly!" Sofia chimed. "Hey, Father? I'm craving your sweet blancmange!"
"No fair!" Luis cut in. "I want pudding! With bitter caramel sauce!"
"Please!" they pleaded in sugary tones, clinging to Severus's neck. He rose, feeling their weight—a tangible sign of their growth that brought a faint smile to his lips.
"…Very well," he said.
"Yay!" they cheered, planting quick kisses on his cheeks again.
"Luis, Sofia… happy birthday," Severus said, his voice soft with affection and love, returning gentle kisses to their cheeks.
The twins blinked at each other, then pressed their hands to their faces, eyes sparkling, and tackled him with hugs.
"Thank you, Father!" Luis said.
"Thank you for giving us life!" Sofia added.
"…I didn't birth you," Severus said with a wry smile.
They ignored him, jumping off the bed and pulling him out, their faces radiant with joy. Their excitement wasn't just about their birthday—it was about spending it with their father, as a family.
Severus, a Hogwarts professor and Slytherin's Head of House, rarely came home. His duties—patrols, handling endless issues—kept him at school. As young children, the twins had resented him for tending to strangers' kids, throwing tantrums out of jealousy. Now, sadly, they'd grown used to creeping into his cold, empty bedroom on sleepless nights.
Still, they cherished his returns during holidays, no matter how often he was called away. This eleventh birthday, a milestone, fell on a weekend. Severus had informed Dumbledore late the previous night and returned home to celebrate with his beloved children.
In their nightclothes, the twins raced to the living room, squealing at the pile of colorful presents. They didn't open them right away, savoring the happiness, and sat at the dining table, smiling at the gift mountain.
They stole glances at Severus preparing their requested "dishes"—sweets, really—and giggled together. A day like this, with their father and each other, was rare and precious.
"…Have you two greeted her yet?" Severus asked.
"Oh!" Luis gasped.
"We forgot! Sorry, Mother!" Sofia said.
They scrambled from their chairs and rushed to a small round table by the sunlit window, where a photo frame stood. Kneeling, they clasped their hands as if in prayer.
"Good morning, Mother! Sorry we're late. We're eleven now!" Luis said.
"Good morning! Hogwarts is coming, and I'm gonna leave tons of legends!" Sofia declared.
They spoke to the woman in the photo—red hair, gentle green eyes—captured in a magical image that moved, cradling a baby with a loving, joyful smile. The twins only knew their mother through this single picture. She'd died when they were infants. Severus's pain when speaking of her kept them from asking why—illness, accident, or… murder? It might seem callous, but without memories of her, they loved Severus most and never wanted to see him hurt again.
They chattered at the photo, their voices bright and conversational, as if she could reply. Severus, with their voices as background music, finished preparing pudding, blancmange, and a light breakfast, setting them on the table.
"Breakfast is ready," he called.
"Okay!" they replied in unison, bounding to the table, eyes gleaming as they dug into their favorites. Watching them, Severus's stern expression softened.