Everyone assumed he missed Lily. Everyone knew he hated James. They never expected him to be sad about James dying.
He took a week to recover. A week to resurface. To be able to look anyone in the eye, hear them say they were so sorry about what had happened to the Potters', to that poor boy. The poor boy who was only a year old, and had managed to defeat the darkest wizard of their age. Who was being raised by Muggles.
He had raged at Dumbledore for that. Told him time and time again that Petunia wasn't a good person, that she didn't deserve to raise a child of her own, let alone the saviour of the wizarding world. He didn't like the Weasleys', but he petitioned on their behalf more than once. He told Dumbledore he would help them pay for the blasted child if that was what it took. Dumbledore refused every time, claiming something about love.
Love. What good would it do? It hadn't saved Harry. It hadn't saved Lily. It hadn't saved James. It hadn't saved anyone during the war. There was barely a person who hadn't lost someone during those terrible years. Even the Weasleys' had lost a child, though it wasn't well known. Love couldn't do anything other than break your heart.
When he saw the child for the first time, his heart skipped what felt like a thousand beats and he forgot how to breathe. He looked like James. To Severus, who thought he would never see him again, beyond the few photographs he had allowed himself, it was like a punch to the stomach. He couldn't help but hate the child for being such a painful reminder of what he had lost.
Sometimes he wondered if Dumbledore knew. He would say things that could be seen as him having guessed. Severus didn't want him to know, couldn't take someone else knowing. It wouldn't be his then. He managed to keep up the façade of it being Lily, even to Sirius and Remus, who must have known. They must have.
He learnt to tolerate the boy. There was enough of Lily in him that tears stopped flooding his eyes every time he saw Harry come around a corner because he strutted the same way James had, and he stopped feeling like his stomach had been ripped open every time he heard Harry laugh because for a split second he had been back in the room with James, James the way he truly loved him, open and free. This boy had Lily's skill with Potions and Charms, her easy way with everyone. All the things everyone thought he hated him for, Severus felt gratitude. Every time he did something just like Lily and Dumbledore looked at him with pity, Severus felt relief that he wasn't that like James. That he had some respect for others.
He found himself helping Harry. Joining the light once again in order to make sure that Harry, the last bit of James left in the world, stayed alive. Severus died with a smile on his lips and one thought in his head. Always, James, always.