Lilly Evans was supposed to be mine. We were best friends until James Potter came along. He stole her heart, which she had promised to me when we were eight. I loved her with everything I had. I heard she joined the Order. I joined Voldemort. I hated Potter for everything he had taken. She came to me the night before her wedding. I have never told anyone this. She told me of a love she had lost in her short life. A love for a best friend who was always meant to be more if she had given him the opportunity. I realized immediately that she was talking about me. I made my move. I kissed her tentatively, hoping she wouldn't reject me. She didn't. She kissed me back hard, so hard and full of her pent up emotions that I wanted to cry from knowing that this woman could have been mine. Our kiss progressed and I believe you can guess what followed. I woke up the next morning to an empty bed.

I received a month Lilly Potter. She wrote that she is with child, my child. I trust she is being truthful, seeing as she is studying to be a medi-witch. She writes that I mustn't tell a soul, but that she thought that I would like to know. She asks me to write back and what I would like to name my child. After gathering up my confidence, I write back. I tell her that we are complete idiots for forgetting a contraceptive potion, but that my dream of having a family is halfway coming true. I tell her that I have always wanted to name my first son Harry, after my long dead Uncle who used to read to me as a child. We correspond repeatedly after this, but I never heard anything else about my child.

Eleven years later and here I am, still teaching at Hogwarts for another year. Harry James Potter is expected to begin today. I worry about how I will react to seeing my son for the first time. He mustn't know about me, for which I am thankful. I don't think I could handle anything to do with Lilly today. It is the anniversary of our splitting ways exactly eleven years ago. My heart still aches with the knowledge that she could have been mine, if only one of us could have been brave enough to take the risk. I realize I had zoned out and slowly come back to reality. I see the first years come into the Great Hall and see four recognizable students. A Malfoy, must be Lucius' boy, Draco. His platinum blonde hair clashes with the red head in the group, whom I believe must be another Weasley. Standing next to him are two black haired boys. I recognize a Longbottom. Poor boys must be the son of the victims of Bellatrix. That Botch ruined this poor boys life. I focus my attention onto the other black haired boy, whose green eyes are staring at me. Harry. I have heard that his eyes are exactly like Lilly's, but I see now that they aren't. They are shaped like hers, but the green is off. Way off. At least to me. His eyes are the shade of green that mine used to be, until I changed them to differentiate myself from my father. I find myself staring at him. He is perfect. He is my son. Lilly's son, who I have sworn to protect as if he were my son. Dumbledore's words, not mine. If only he knew it were true.