Severus Snape held the letter close to him as his tears fell slowly down his cheek. He had sat in that same place for hours on end and yet had no desire to be shifted, as much as he had no desire to return to any place that held false sanity in which he had been brought to live in. This letter was what had brought him down to earth; it was this letter that made him realise that he was simply a puppet in Dumbledore's show, someone who has wasted his entire life for someone who didn't even like him.
He found that he was rocking back and forth upon where he was crouched, and he struggled to make his face grow back to the enigmatic features that he previously renowned himself proud of. He wished for the tears that were staining his face to cease so he could get on with something of vague importance, and yet the irony was that nothing he did what of any real importance to him. Harry was to die anyway, his only living memory of the one he loved lost to Dumbledore's foolish plans; he would never see Lily again, not in a real sense at least. He looked down once more at the letter in his hand, reading it over for what hoped was the final time, his eyes finally coming to rest on the love that Lily had given to a man who had tormented him in his early years of schooling.
It was strange to imagine Lily writing this, after years of coming into acceptance that she was dead. She would be leaning over the parchment, her tongue slightly between her lips as it always was when she was concentrating. She'd pause every so often, softly nibbling the end of the quill as she thought about what to say, perhaps flicking that gorgeous red hair out of her face. He remembered the times in which Lily complained about her hair accidently being caught in her mouth, which always made him laugh at the mental image of Lily coughing up a hairball. Lily would go slightly pink with frustration and her eyebrows would become knitted as she shoved him gently, annoyed but holding back amusement.
He missed those times.
He doubted that he was even on her mind on the night of her death. She was with Harry most likely, and the man that seemed to love to make his life a misery simply for being close to Lily. Sometimes he wandered if things would still be like they were if it hadn't been for that Potter boy and his ever-irritating crew. There was a time when Lily hated him as well as Severus did; when she would fume at Potter's latest attempts at winning her over, her shouting at how she was just so angry about how Potter was treating her.
He missed those times too.
He supposed he didn't notice that she was gradually beginning to like him back. He should have noticed. He knew she was being told by her friends that she should stay away from Severus, that he was a load of trouble and so on. He found it ironic that they hated the war and yet the bullying of Severus was just a microcosm of it all; they hated him because of his beliefs, his house and even his looks. He couldn't help it if he was jealous of Potter because of his looks, his confidence, his intelligence – any sane boy would be envious. But it was made more obvious because of Severus's attachment to Lily, as he seemed to be just as jealous of him. Except, he was popular and Severus wasn't. If he cursed Potter, at least six other wands would be pointed in the poor Slytherins direction. If Potter cursed Severus, he would be laughed at and ridiculed. Life seemed to enjoy tormenting the little unfortunate Snape boy.
Somehow, Lily seemed to begin to like this monster. Maybe that's why he didn't notice it; he was so convinced that Potter was pure evil that he hadn't even taken into account that maybe, just maybe, Lily might actually like that. That the pranks and childish behaviour was, like Severus laughing at her hair falling into her mouth, actually causing her to show hidden amusement about the whole situation. Sometimes she would giggle softly when Potter ever did something especially arrogant, or despite sticking up for Severus having a sparkle of laughter in her eyes when he was cursed.
He did not like those moments at all.
He pinched the top of his nose, hoping that with some concentration he may put a stop to this emotional mess that he was becoming. He knew this was because of Lily and Potter and Harry, the boy he was supposed to be defending. And how was he doing that? By pretending to be a murderer, that's how.
He shook himself. This wasn't doing any help. He may as well help Lily's child, even if he was to be killed before the year was out. He tore the love that Lily had left upon the letter off from the rest and folded it up, breathing heavily in an attempt to regain his dignity. He had a feeling there wasn't much left of it.