February 14, 1997
Dear Half-Blood Prince,
I don't know why I'm writing you this, especially since I already sent a Valentine to Ginny. But it just doesn't feel right to not write you. To say thank you for all your help, for teaching me, for being a friend. So Happy Valentine's Day. Knowing what I think I know about you, you're probably enjoying the day with your wife, if you're still alive, that is.
Maybe I should tell you a little bit about myself. I'm Harry Potter. I'm supposed to be famous, but I don't like it, I really don't. I just want to be normal like everybody. Is this too much to ask? But you don't treat me differently. You help me because you're smart and I happen to be using your Advance Potions textbook. You know, you sort of remind me of my ex-Potions professor (now my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor). Oh, you're nothing like him, Snape's a total arse. But he doesn't treat me like a celebrity either. He never does.
So thank you. I wouldn't have survived Potions without you. I bet you're a Ravenclaw, or maybe even a Gryffindor. Hell, you could even be a Hufflepuff, knowing how much work went into filling up those margins in the textbook. But you're definitely not a Slytherin. You're too good to be one.
This is probably the longest Valentine you've received. Well, it's not like you're going to get this. I just needed to write my thoughts down. Thank you, Prince, for being a friend.
February 14, 1998
You Murderer, Traitor,
I take it all back. Every nice word I wrote and every nice thought I ever thought about you. You're nothing but a liar, a bastard, a traitor. I hate you.
One day, I'm going to use your own curse to end your pathetic life. I'll use Sectumsempra. You don't deserve a quick death. You will regret the day you were ever born.
February 14, 1999
What the hell are you playing at? I know you're evil and have the personality of stale bread, but carelessness? A slip of tongue about the location of Hufflepuff's cup? I take all the things I said about the Half-Blood Prince being smart back. You're just plain stupid.
Well, all the better for me. Expect to have your first Deathday party by next summer.
February 14, 2000
Dear Snape, (added later in slightly darker ink) sir,
I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry, sir. I really mean it.
I take back what I said about taking everything back. Does it work like that? Starting over, having second chances, like what Dumbledore gave you and how you remained faithful to him till the end?
Please wake up, sir. I can't bear to think that someone's in a coma because he stepped in front of a curse meant for me. I see it now, how you were always protecting me. Keeping me safe that night when Professor Dumbledore died, pointing me toward the locations of the horcruxes, sacrificing your life for me…
No, not sacrificing your life. You'll wake up, you'll heal, and I'll let everyone know that you're a true hero in the war. Then you can go back to hating me for the rest of your life. And this time, you'll have a valid reason for it.
We won, Snape. We did it. You did it. I only wish I'd known earlier which side you're really on.
February 14, 2001
This is the fifth Valentine I've written to you. I never sent out the others—the first one was for the Half-Blood Prince before I knew he was you, two were death threats, and the last one was written before you woke up—and before the Ministry had the gall to take you away from St. Mungo's by force.
I really admired how you handled yourself before the Wizengamot. I can't say I was surprised that you pled guilty to the charge of Dumbledore's murder, because you are. I was there that night, under the invisibility cloak. I saw you do it. But now I understand why.
I hope the new Azkaban is treating you well. I heard it's a much more livable place now that the Dementors are gone. If you care about me at all—even if all your feelings toward me is hate—please stay strong. You're a powerful wizard. You'll still be in your prime at 90. You've always been strong.
Happy Valentine's Day. I realise now that there's no one else I'd send a Valentine to. I owe you everything, so quite literally, I'm yours.
Please be well, sir. I'll see you in 2050.