If anyone saw Severus Snape on that cold October morning, unusually pacing the corridor next to his dungeon, they would have felt inclined to call Madam Pomfrey at once. For not only did Snape look uncharacteristically disgruntled but there seemed to be the beginnings of tears in his eyes.
(Snape POV)
The beginnings of a headache was slowly starting to affect me and it was almost as if I could literally feel the soles of my favorite pair of Italian leather shoes wearing down as I spun around for the twentieth time in ten minutes. But I didn't care. The only thing the my mind was preoccupied with was the bombshell that Dumbledore had just dropped on me.
I, Severus Snape, had a son. And as if that wasn't enough shock for me, Dumbledore informed me that my son was Harry Potter. The same boy that I had spent the majority of 3 years hating and doing my best to make his life a living hell. How could I have done that to my own flesh and blood?
In just half an hour, my entire perception of the boy had changed. I found myself studying and going over every inch of his face and personality, trying to find any hint of myself in him. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't. Lilly had brewed that potion to perfection.
I suddenly felt a pang in my heart and knew what I had to do. Harry was my only living relative and though I would admit it to noone, I had always wanted a child. I knew that if it was the last thing I would do; I would make amends with him.
I groaned thinking about the roads we would have to travel and the mountains we would have to cross in order to have even a semblance of a decent father-son relationship. Would Harry even want me as his dad? He grew up idolizing James Potter, how could I take that away from him. How would he react to finding out that this 'greasy git' was actually his biological father?
I felt like slapping myself. I had never mistreated a student as much as I had to Harry. And why? Because I thought his father was James bloody Potter. I knew that I could never justify my actions. What a fool I had been.
My mind wandered back to that fateful day all those years ago. There had a been a huge party and I was having a few drinks. I had just needed to forget about stupid James Potter and his multitude of nicknames for me. The words 'snivellus', 'greasy', and 'loser' all fluttered around in my head before being drowned out my constant shots of ale.
The next thing I knew, Lilly was in front of me. My sweet, beautiful Lilly. From the looks of her, she seemed to be on the verge of passing out. Suddenly I felt a tug on my arm. Her eyes said it all. I knew it was wrong, she was taken for Merlin's sake! But for 6 years I had watched and pined over Lilly from afar. My inebriated brain slowly turned off all streams of doubt from my conscience and the last thing I can remember from that night is being pulled up a flight of stairs.