His quill was poised in hand as he struggled to form the words in his mind; words, he knew would destroy the very foundations on which Harry Potter's life had been built. How the boy would react to it, Severus could never imagine.
All the times he'd chastised the boy for wandering the halls late at night, pushing him in Potions, was all in an effort to protect the boy, yet every time he seemed to push Harry further away. Perhaps, Severus thought, it was easier this way, easier that feeling something that scared him, easier than looking at those emerald eyes, which often glared, angrily back at him, just as Lily's had done, when Severus had said the dreadful thing which had drove a wedge between them, destroying the only friendship he'd experienced at Hogwarts, or ever for that matter.
Lily had been the one ray of sunshine in his dark grey life, the one person who had given him more love than he could ever imagine. Lily Evans was the closest thing he had ever had that resembled the love he'd lived so long without and would never experience again – and how did Severus repay her? He'd called her "Mud-blood trash" in front of his Slytherin peers; a desperate plea for acceptance which had cost him dearly.
The emerald eyes which had showered him with so much affection instantly became clouded with hatred toward the boy who's severed her heart, so badly she felt she would never recover.
Those same angry eyes glared at him with that same hatred, from her child, Harry, when Severus delivered that fateful blow, which had ended the life of Hogwarts' principal and Harry's mentor, Albus Dumbledore, right before the boy's eyes while he was, stunned and powerless to stop it.
How would Harry cope with the secret which Severus had held onto all these years?
However he felt the truth must be told, for the boy was already feeling alone in this dreary world, with Sirius Black gone and now Dumbledore, not to mention his parents, it would seem to Harry that he had no one left. Harry needed something to care about again, some ray of hope that would give him the strength to keep fighting. Severus began to write the letter that would change everything that Harry had stood for.
Dear Harry,
There are no easy words to explain what I am about to say, except to start at the very beginning. When I was a child, a young Lily Evans, performed the one miracle that could awaken the deadness in me. She extended her hand in friendship, something which had made my years at Hogwarts, bearable when all others shunned me, including James Potter. It was inevitable that Lily and I would fall in love, in spite of her being sorted into Gryffindor, while I ended up in Slytherin.
I never fit in with my fellow Slytherins and I found myself clinging more and more to Lily for friendship, while all the while I was trying desperately to be accepted by those from my own house.
It was clear that Lily felt the same for me, and it may come as a shock to you that one night in Seventh, we took the next step as a couple.
That night, Lily was able to perform to miracles. One was to allow me to experience love beyond my wildest dreams and the other was you, Harry.
Yes Harry, I am your father, not James Potter, as you have always believed.
Harry Potter took the flask from Severus Snape, which contained his memories. As he turned to leave the dying professor, Snape gasped, "Potter! I need you to take one more thing." He handed a crumple piece of paper to Harry, the piece of paper that contained the note, which Harry had read later as he left the pensieve, swirling with the memories of an outcast boy, much like he had felt at many times in his life.
Tears trickled down Harry's cheeks as he read the words, which had suddenly made sense. Why the sorting hat had toyed with the idea of placing him in the Slytherin house, why the professor had been so hard on him throughout his time at Hogwarts, why he seemed to despise James, but why had Snape chosen to keep this to himself all those years?
This puzzled Harry more than anything, as the "why's" and the "What if's" circled his mind, just as the memories circled the depths of the Pensieve.
He read and re-read the words which had left Harry with feelings similar to the effects of the stunning spell.
"… Harry, I am your father, not James Potter, as you have always believed.
When Lily told me, she was with child; I had denied her and called her a "mud-blood", something I will regret for the rest of my life. I was scared, not so much of the Dark Lord's reaction, but of becoming someone I despised – my own father, who had shown me nothing but the monster he could be. I didn't know how to be a father. I was also scared because I was a mere boy, who had done something that was beyond what I would be capable of dealing with.
I am sorry for not being there for you as a child and for subjecting to the terrible life you were forced to live with the Dursleys.
I may not have showed it, but I am proud of the boy who radiated the beauty that was your mother and the young man that you are becoming, you loyalty and your bravery, the things I could not have influenced in your life."
Suddenly Harry was filled with a blinding anger for once again Voldemort had managed to destroy any hope of happiness for Harry. There was only one thing Harry could do and Harry was ready for it. He would kill Voldemort, even if it meant killing himself, before anyone else he cared for fell victim to the dark wizard's wrath. With purposeful steps he left the principal's office, which had once been Dumbledore's and began his march into the face of death.
