Confessions

From the private journal of Severus Snape

I guess it was just fate that in my entire life, the only people I ever really loved would be forbidden to me. My green-eyed angels.

When I first met him, the boy barely even registered to me. He was just another one, another grubby child, another empty-headed brat with shabby clothes and dirt on his nose. A Weasley, but what was that to me?

As time passed, I found myself keeping an eye on him. The boy always standing off to the side. Did anyone else even see him, next to Potter?

Then I really started to look.

As he grew, so too did my admiration for him. What other boy would have the courage to stand with Potter? Who could be more loyal, more dedicated? If it was my fate to play the villain in this tale, it was his to be the solid anchor, weighed down by Potter's insecurities, bearing all that he could, to spare our hero what he could.

I got to know his many moods. One day he would be full of life. Vibrant, his hair like fire, all youthful exuberance.

But other days, especially if he and Potter were on the outs, I could see a different side of him. Vulnerable. Fragile. So many worries for such a young man. Sitting on the steps at the Quidditch pitch, his head in his hands, looking down at the ground as he thought about - what?

Wishing he was more like Potter, perhaps? That everybody loved him, not the golden child, for whom everything seemed to be so easy?

My foolish boy. My little Botticelli, with your russet hair.

My dear.

Can't you see that you have everything? A life ahead of you. Freedom. Out of all of us, you may be the one who makes it through this alive.

One day, when all of this is over…

When I'm dead and gone, then maybe you will understand. There's more to life than money, or fame, or being the big man. The greatest prize, the only real prize, is yours.

A home, a family, and a quiet, happy life. These are the things I wish for you, my love.