AN-My first HP fanfic in a long time. Hmm.
Disclaimer-I do not own, blah blah

Dumbledore's office (even though it was his, Snape still thought of it as Dumbledore's home) was quite silent, as it often was, and Severus Snape found it unnerving. Since taking the role of Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the lone man felt so out of place in the only real home he'd ever known. He had spent hours in this very room having endless discussions with Albus Dumbledore. He had, on more than one occasion, broke down in this room and cried.

As he looked around at the familiar portraits, and the still fairly new slumbering one of Dumbledore, he sincerely missed his old dormitory. He did not earn the title of Headmaster, nor did he want it. He knew why he needed to keep the position though. As horrible a Headmaster he was, either one of the Carrows would be ten times worse. He was lucky that they were at least keeping students alive, for the time being.

"You know, young man," wheezed the old portrait of Phyllida Spore, a Headmistress from the late 13th century, "I once saw Headmaster Dumbledore place a letter in that very draw." She pointed weakly at one of the many draws that lined the left side of the chamber, a few spots away from where the sorting hat rested.

"Oh yes?" Severus asked, "I believe he placed many letters in many draws."

"No need to be smart, boy." She glared a little, "This particular letter had yourname on it."

Snape tried not to roll his eyes. There was probably thousands of papers in this cluttered room with his name on them. Why was one measly letter worth mentioning?

"And I don't believe it to be written by the deceased Headmaster, but by a different deceased."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked the witch. That was a strange thing of her to say.

"Well I've seen Albus Dumbledore's writing, and it isn't quite so...elegant. And he placed it there a good eighteen years ago, or round about that. And he also told us, Under no circumstances will you let Severus Snape lay eyes on this paper, understand? But, he is gone, yes? And, honestly, I've been dying to know what that letter holds!"

After her speech, Snape sat almost gaping. A letter that he was not to see, written in feminine handwriting, placed there eighteen years ago? It must be from Lily Evans. Who else would write to Severus Snape? What woman would write to Severus Snape!

"Aren't you going to get it, then?" asked Spore impatiently.

With a blink, Severus rose from the Headmaster's chair and went looking to the draw. The sorting hat was snoring quietly a few paces away. He had to use the step ladder to reach the old draw, which he was surprised to find unlocked. Albus, he thought to himself, such a strange man you were.

The draw pulled back with a small creak, and inside rested an old, wrinkled letter. It was folded over in half and in a pretty, neat script that he easily recognised his name was present, Sev.

Stumbling, he went back to the large, comfy chair and simply held the letter before him. She had held this letter. Another piece of her for himself. What did it say? When was it written? Why did Albus keep it from him? He unfolded the paper carefully, and started to read:

3rd of October, 1981

Dearest Severus,

James and I are well aware that Voldemort is on his way to find us. Hopefully, staying in Godric's Hollow will buy us some more time. Hopefully, that is.
I've not told James this, but I believe this is the end. We have been lucky to escape him the last three times, and I fear that we won't be so lucky again. And I couldn't die knowing that I didn't let you know a few things about me.
Firstly, I do love you, Sev. I love you dearly. You were my first connection to the magical world I live in now and you helped me accept myself. You were my best friend for so many years and I'll never forget the fun we had together.
James Potter is my husband, and I love him more than life, but you will always be my best friend, no matter what becomes of you. I don't like or accept your choice to join Voldemort, and I hope someday you'll see the light and join us.
Severus, the most important thing you have to know about me is that I have a child. I have a son, Severus, a beautiful baby boy. His name is Harry, Harry James Potter. And he is so like James, and yet so like you at the same time. It was his first birthday a few months ago. James always goes on about how he has my eyes, but besides that he very much looks like James!
As I said before, I feel this is the end. I do not expect you to reach us in time and save us, I'll probably be dead before this letter reaches you, if it ever does. But I need to ask a favour of you, a favour I can only entrust to my best friend. Please, take care of Harry. My and James' deaths are not important. Just make sure Harry is alright. Think of him as your son, Severus, because if things had gone differently, he might have been.

With all my love, with everything I am,
Lily
xx

Snape's breathing was loud in the silent chamber. He felt his chest tighten, his heart beating erratically. He kept reading the words over and over, I love you dearly I love you dearly I love you dearly I love you dearly. His tears marked the paper and he read the letter twice more. Attached by a paperclip at the bottom was a photo of Lily and Harry. She was holding him in her arms, making his chubby baby hand wave at the camera, held tilted in laughter, placing kiss after kiss on Harry's cheek...

Snape's cold hands weaved into his oily hair and he pulled and pulled. He felt as if he might pass out. So many words, so much to understand...His heart ached to see her, to see his beautiful Lily. With a another hard pull at his hair, Severus let out a loud wail, waking up all the portraits in the room.

All the portraits, that is, except one.

Standing from his chair loudly and ungracefully, Snape stomped to Dumbledore's canvas and shook the frame forcefully, the letter still clutched in his hand.

"Wake up, you bastard! Wake up and talk to me!" he yelled angrily.

The peaceful slumbering Dumbledore awoke with a jump, his half moon glasses slipping off his eyes slightly. Fixing them, he looked curiously at Snape.

"Whatever is the matter, old friend?" he asked kindly.

"I am no friend of yours!" spat Snape, "What is this? Why did you keep this from me?" he shoved the letter at the painting.

"Oh." Albus' eyes fell down in shame, "Well, dear Severus, I hid that from you for many reasons. An obvious one is this reaction I am seeing now."

"I wouldn't have reacted like this if you had shown it to me when it was written!" Snape didn't fail to noticed the date. Lily had written this semi-love letter only a few weeks before her murder.

"You would have ran off, in a frenzy, and tried to save poor Lily. You would have been killed. I didn't find it until after her death anyway. When you picked up Harry, I naturally went back to check the house again, should I find anything important. I found the letter and decided it wasn't right to show you."

"But," Snape said painfully, leaving back against his desk, "It was mine. She...she meant it for me."

"I feared...," Dumbledore started, but hesitated, looking away from Snape.

"Feared what?" he prompted.

"That you would try and keep Harry."

"What?"

Dumbledore had suggested many outlandish things in the years that Severus had known him, but none quite so silly as this. Keep the son of his worst enemy? But, he was also the son of his love...

"She said, if I remember correctly, to think of Harry as your own son. I thought you might. I needed Harry to stay with the Dursleys, as you know it was a safe house, a place that Voldemort couldn't touch. Lily gave her protection to her son, to her family. Petunia Evans was her family, not you Severus."

Snape hung his head. This was true. What if he had tried to raise Harry as his own? Thinking back to those days, he very well might have done it. He could have raised Harry to be nothing like his father, and more like what he true father was. To know that Harry Potter could have been Harry Snape broke Severus' heart even more.

"The time for Harry's death is approaching," Dumbledore said quietly, "You know what must happen."

"Is it awful of me to say that I love the boy?"

Dumbledore had a faint smile on his face, "Awfully lovely, maybe."

Severus Snape sat back on his desk and held the photo of Lily and Harry Potter and tried to imagine himself taking the photo instead. Knowing that Harry had to die suddenly weighed Snape down more than it had twenty minutes ago.

He may not be my son, Snape thought, but he is the closest thing I'll ever have to one. I did protect him, Lily. I tried my best to protect our son.

AN- In truth, I'm not sure if Snape would be so attached to Harry, but it was an idea I wanted to play with. Thoughts?