A moment that should have (but didn't) make Deathly Hallows. Seems a lot of great Snape moments were passed over… This is my quick take on Snape's first time alone in the Headmaster's office after his appointment to the position.

In His Shadow

The heavy door of the Headmaster's study closed with such finality that it startled him. This is it, he thought. While he could not deny that his situation had always been unbelievably precarious, it was nothing compared to what it now was. He had to conform to Voldemort's wishes yet protect hundreds of students without arousing the suspicion from the Death Eaters assigned to the staff.

He was alone. More than he had ever been before.

The previous Headmasters were snoring peacefully in their portraits, with the exception of one.

'Severus!' said Dumbledore from his painting, clearly delighted to see Snape. 'I couldn't have chosen a better man myself to be my successor.'

Snape said nothing at first. He didn't deserve to hold such a high and honourable position, nor did he feel adequate for it. He was glad to see Dumbledore, even if only in this manner, and a flood of guilt consumed him. 'It is my hope I can protect the students as you asked.'

'Do not doubt yourself, Severus. I have faith in you.'

'So does someone else,' he said darkly as he looked around the study. Everything was as he remembered it, with the exception of Fawkes, who, he had assumed, left after Dumbledore's death.

He walked around the room, looking at all the things Dumbledore had left behind. He spotted a stack of Muggle knitting magazines and remembered that he had loved knitting patterns. He smiled in spite of himself. Snape always wished he could see the beauty in life despite the darkness he lived with. But too much had happened for that to be possible. He had lost too much to be able to see the world through eyes that didn't cast everything in some shade of black.

He looked to the Headmaster's seat, a large wing-backed chair with plum cushions. He eventually made his way to it and sat down, feeling as though he had usurped the position. He didn't want to be here. Not like this. A crushing sense of hopelessness swept over him, and he felt acutely aware of his own shortcomings. In times like these, there was only one thing that could keep him from drowning in his own despair.

He reached in his pocket for a photograph. It was half of a photo he had found at Grimmauld place. He knew that if he was ever to find one, that would be the place to look.

Lily smiled at him from the photo, a vision of loveliness at age twenty-one, forever captured in all her beauty. She was the reason why he continued to fight, and he was determined to do right by her and her son, wherever he was now. Slowly, tears began to blur his vision, and he tried to suppress his sobs.

Thankfully, all the Heads were asleep, and Dumbledore, who had no desire to intrude on Snape's private moment with his memories, pretended he was sleeping too.