Harry sits before me Saturday morning at ten-o-clock, squirming and awaiting the continuation of the story. I have one or two things set out before us on the little coffee table in front of the sofa. Some of them came from the box, others came from another collection of keepsakes of mine. There is a stack of letters and my dog tags.

I turn the tags over in my hands, examining Lily's writing.

"This is where she carved her note," I say to Harry, showing him the back of the tags.

"Can I hold them?" Harry asks quietly. I nod, and set them into his palm. They clink slightly, and I have to fight the memories that come with them.

He traces the back of the tag with his finger. First, Lily's name, and then he flips it over and traces mine.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you miss Mum still?"

"Every day," I say.

"I miss her too," Harry mutters, blinking quickly. "I wish I could remember her. All I really remember is green light, and ... and her scream. And even that ... maybe I'm just imagining it. I hope I am, but sometimes I hope I'm not, just so I can have one memory of her, even one like that."

I shudder slightly, watching as he sets the tags in the middle of the table again.

"I am so sorry I was not there to save her," I tell Harry when I find the words, trying not to tear up.

He nods. "It's okay Dad," Harry says. "It wasn't your fault someone betrayed her."

"I used to blame James Potter for it," I say, trying to keep the trembling out of my voice. "But I can't anymore. He was at least good enough to hide her for me. I guess I never could hate him after he gave up his life protecting her. He lost his best friend too, Sirius Black, who had been Secret Keeper. The Dark Lord got to him. Did you know that he refused tell the secret? He flat out refused. The Dark Lord tortured him, but he never gave in."

Harry looks stunned, and I shake my head, guilt rising up within me. I hated Sirius Black as much as I hated James Potter, but now, that hatred is gone. I owe him for what he did. I owe them both, but there is no way for me to repay them. It haunts me in ways I never would have imagined.

"But Dad, if Sirius Black didn't tell Voldemort, how did he know where to find Mum?"

"He killed Black eventually," I say quietly. "And Peter Pettigrew knew of the location because he had visited. When the Secret Keeper dies, all who know the secret can share it. Pettigrew was one of three that knew where they were. Nobody guessed he was in with them."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"Me too. I just wish I could have been there for her. I suppose I owe it to her to finish telling you why I couldn't be. Which leads me to continue my story."

Harry perks up, and after a sip of water, I begin to speak once more.

***

"You alright, Severus?" Joey asks curiously as I sway on the deck of the ship. "They're serving dinner; if you're feeling a little off I can try and save you something."

I swear heavily, and sink down against the railing of the ship, the letter clutched in my hand, addressed to me from Dumbledore. Fawkes the phoenix had appeared and dropped the note when I was alone on the deck.

"What's eating you?" Joey inquirers again, looking worried.

"Joey, can I have ... a moment alone?" I say, glancing down at the letter again. I know that even his good sense of humour will not help me with this.

He nods, says goodbye and walks along to the other side of the ship, saying he'll try to save a dinner roll or two for me if he can.

My heart hammers with fear, and I can hear the thundering of boots below deck, getting their evening meal. I have no appetite, however. I wish I could have confessed to Joey exactly what was going on. But how could I explain about divination teachers, and spies, and prophecies? I want to kill whatever rat had been eavesdropping on Dumbledore and the new divination teacher. I lower my eyes to the letter yet again, and phrases jump out at me.

Lily is safe ...

... James Potter has promised to hide her. He is in the Order and has the money to stay home to make sure she is safe, and we have put his home under the fidelis charm.

... know you do not like him, however ...

James knows you are the child's father ...

Lily misses you and ...

The deck is empty, and like a sleepwalker I edge my way to a stack of crates, and wedge myself between them. I lower my head to my knees, shaking and trying to fight the roiling, fearful feeling in my gut, the letter safely tucked in my pocket. I am glad Dumbledore was able to deliver it to me immediately, but I can barely breathe.

***

"You must have been worried sick," Harry says, half in horror, half in awe when he hears how I found out.

"You could say that," I mutter under my breath.

***

"Severus? Is that you?" asks Ben from behind me as I wipe my mouth, shivering as I lean over the railing of the ship, the thoughts of all the awful things the Dark Lord can do to Lily and my unborn child swirling in my head.

I wave weakly as I throw up again.

"I somehow doubt this is seasickness," says Ben rather dryly in his all-knowing sort of way. "You've been fine the whole trip, so why now, a day from the island? Anxious about where we're going? No shame in that. Everyone is."

I just shrug, not wanting to say anything.

"Joey was so worried he stopped cracking jokes," he continues. "He said you got a message. Must have been urgent to get to us here."

"Yes," I say, still bent over the railing and watching the sea sliding away beneath the ship.

"Care to talk about it?"

I look up as he puts his arms on the railing beside me.

"My wife is in danger," I say, taking a risk because I'm terrified, and I have to tell someone otherwise I think I might break. "She's had to go into hiding, because ... a - a murderer's supposedly picked her as his next target."

"Killed a lot of people, this murderer?" Ben asks curiously.

"Loads," I say, gulping as I try to keep from puking again.

"The world has been a dangerous place as of late," he mutters, shaking his head.

I look at him sharply. There's something about the way he says it that heightens my senses.

"How so?" I ask, unable to keep suspicion out of my voice. I know code. I have spied, I have lied, and I have said one thing while saying another for years.

"Well, like you said, there's a madman on the loose," he says with a shrug.

"Who?"

"No idea. Nobody can tell me his name."

The wording is clever enough that no muggle would know a bit of what we were talking about.

We pause for a moment, and then I continue.

"Well, at least you seem like you can hold your own if someone comes after you. Even if you do not know who is out there, surely you have some skill that you could defend yourself with?" I ask, because I see right through him. He had to have recognized the potion earlier. Perhaps that was why he had been so keen to hang around me since. I can't believe my luck.

"Not really, it's my sister that is the best at that sort of thing," Ben says, looking a little put out. "She was the talented one in the family. Got to go to a special school and everything. I'm not so lucky, but I hear a great deal about what she gets up to. I've been in the army since I was about your age, instead. You might know my sister though, as I believe you two have similar backgrounds."

"You are right, it seems. You have no idea how much a relief it is to know someone who actually understands anything about ... well, where I come from," I mutter to him. "Nobody here seems to know what it's like back home for me."

"If you belong there, then why on earth are you in the army?" asks Ben, his greying eyebrows furrowed.

"I was lying low with the other lot to help with the war effort, and I guess I played my part too well, because my people couldn't convince the higher ups that I was really doing it on our side's orders. No room for me in their system, so they sent me here. It was either this, or they were going to have me leave with nothing but a kiss goodbye."

Ben nods, and I am grateful that he understands the last part, because he shudders slightly. "Horrible way to go."

"Definitely."

"So, they probably did not know that you have a kid on the way, then?"

"No," I mutter. "Bit difficult to make an announcement like that given the situation."

"I cannot imagine," he mutters.

I gulp slightly.

"Does that seasickness cure work for illness in general?" Ben mutters, noting my sweaty complexion with slight concern.

"To some degree," I mutter, "but it doesn't exactly help for anxiety."

"She will be alright," Ben says. "You'll see. Before you know it you will be going home to her and your new baby."

"I hope so."

Ben grasps my shoulder, then leaves to go to bed.

"Wait ... thank you," I call to him, and he nods before going below deck, leaving me alone with the stars.

The wind feels cool on my cheeks, and I close my eyes, trying to imagine a day when I do get to go home. Right now, at the start of what I am beginning to realize is going to be a journey I will never forget, I can hardly imagine it. I walk along the ship, just for something to do, and I go to the back of the vessel and stand by the railing once more, watching as the rippling black waves of the ocean fall behind. They reflect the bright stars, for the ocean is like glass tonight. It seems strange to me that the stars look the same as they did only a few days ago, when Lily was still in my arms. It is as though I believe that there should be some visible sign in the heavens that our paths have diverged for the moment.

Suddenly, an intense pain in my chest makes me shudder from head to toe, and yet it is not a physical pain. It is the fear that our paths will remain apart, and so I reach down into my shirt and pull out my tags. I find the right one, and I flip it over, feeling her words with my fingers.

All my love, Lily

I press it tightly to my lips, and I try to forget the pain inside me ... the fear, the uncertainty. I wish that I too could send her all my love. My paper and pen lie dormant in my bag, because there is no sense in writing until they can get us to a permanent destination where they can actually send mail from. But most of all, I hope that in time I can really be there, not in pen and ink, but in flesh. Then I will take her into my arms, and I will never let go again.

***

"Ben knew all about the wizarding world?" Harry says, flabbergasted.

"Yes," I say. "I am sure there were a few more that did, but we did not have the luck to meet any more. Not an easy subject to discuss, really. I was right shocked when I found out."

"Do you think there are a lot of wizards who have fought in muggle wars?" Harry inquirers thoughtfully.

"Probably more in the olden days than now," I say, having wondered the same thing every so often. "I doubt that I was the only one that fought in the Falklands. Wizards don't always choose wizarding careers, and there were probably a fair few that were aware of the wizarding world, like Ben."

"What was it like when you got to the training camp?"

"Nerve wracking," I say with a grimace. "I had done my training to become a paratrooper, of course, but the things we did on Ascension Island were mostly strategy and preparation for the battles ahead; the things that came up were not always easy to think of. They had us do a number of things, such as go through various practise scenarios we might encounter in the field."

"Did it prepare you?" Harry asks.

"Son, nothing can prepare one for war," I mutter to him. "Nothing."

Harry does not say a word, and so I continue.

"We were only at Ascension island for a few days, but the training was very rigorous," I tell him. "Oddly enough, however, I actually recall those days rather fondly. Ben, Joey, and I trained together a lot, and so we got to know each other quite well. As well as that, I got a very good piece of news."

~~~

The long days of training sessions on Ascension island have left me exhausted. The rest of the men are the same, and it is finally starting to sink in that we are going into a war. Despite having done heavy training in order to qualify for the army this kind of training is like none I have ever done before. A lot of it is strategy, which we are to apply during practise battles. These battles are the closest thing to a real fight they can give us, and as we practise formations and combat we sharpen our skills, and do the necessary preparation with the newly formed platoons. Joey is in mine, and while Ben is in another platoon, his group tends to do practises with ours, which I am glad for, because he has quickly become a good friend to me.

It has long grown dark out, and our weary company plods toward the make-shift barracks, exhausted from a surprise practise in the evening which replaced inspection. We had been forced to try and capture a small hill that had been set up to mimic the dangers we would likely face, and after hours of strategy, formations, and adrenaline, at last we can rest.

Up ahead I can see a swarm of men talking loudly, waving envelopes in the air.

"The post got through one the latest supply ship!" Joey cries with glee, suddenly full of energy once more as he runs forward to go and see if there are any envelopes for him. I am not far behind him, and I wait with badly concealed anticipation until I hear "Snape" called out by the man with the postbag.

"Over here," I shout, and the men clear a path for me.

The envelope is thrust into my hands. Ben and Joey are waiting for me. Ben's got his letter tucked in his shirt pocket, and Joey's already devouring his letter. He almost bumps into one of the poles on the tent as we go inside, but I laugh and pull him in the other direction before he can. It is quiet, and a few men seem to be asleep already.

I sink down on my bunk and throw my muddy boots off, lying back with a moan of appreciation. Ben lights the little camp lantern and sinks into his cot beside mine, Joey on the other side. I hear Ben chuckle appreciatively as he pulls out a colour photo of his niece.

"Elly got her first tooth," he says, passing the picture to me. Joey gets up to admire it.

"Great picture," I say with amusement, handing the picture back to Ben, who tucks in his shirt pocket and continues reading his letter.

I unfold my letter, surprised to see that Lily's normally neat handwriting seems rather jumbled. With concern, I begin to read. I needn't have been worried however.

Darling,

It's a boy! Six pounds five ounces, born at 6:02 A.M. on April 19th, 1982. He's got your hair, and my eyes. He is a beautiful boy, and your father was quite taken with him. Your mother was in danger of flooding the house with her tears of joy - I have never seen her so hysterical! I wish I could write more, but I'm exhausted. I had to do a lot of convincing to get your mother to allow me to write this much before sleeping some. I'll try and send a picture in my next letter. I hope it reaches you.

All my love,

A proud mother!

I shoot up from my bed and run my hand through my hair, my face breaking into a grin.

"What are you so excited about, Severus?" Ben asks absent-mindedly as he carefully folds his letter up again.

I look at Ben, hardly able to speak, and finally I cry, "It's a boy!"

"When was this?" says Joey, looking almost as pleased as I am.

"April 19th! Harry Severus Snape, six pounds, five ounces!"

"Congratulations!" roars Ben, leaping up from his bunk and thumping me on the back.

"What's all the shouting about?" a man I know as Simon says groggily.

"Severus is finally a father!" Ben says jovially.

"Congratulations, mate!" Simon says with a smile before shutting his eyes and relaxing into his pillow, dead to the world in mere moments, a smile still on his lips.

"Hey Severus," says Joey in a conspiratorial tone. "What say we celebrate?"

"Aren't we already?" I say, grinning.

He laughs, and pulls something from his bag.

"Drinks are on me," he says in a low voice, lifting up a bottle of rum.

"You rascal, Joey," Ben hisses, thrusting his flimsy tin cup toward Joey. I do the same, and he pours us each a measure.

"To Harry," Ben says, raising his cup.

"To Severus!" Joey adds.

"To Lily," I say, and we all drink.

Joey grabs the bottle again, starting to pour another round.

"I say that we celebrate this new responsibility by being completely irresponsible," he says in a low voice, "and getting you utterly smashed. What say you?"

"Joey, we ship out tomorrow," Ben says, amused, setting down his tin cup before Joey can refill it too. "Do you really think a hangover will help your seasickness?"

"Can't make me much sicker," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Ah, one more," I say, grinning. "One can't hurt."

"Oh yeah, just one," says Ben skeptically. "If I have to force some of that seasickness cure down your sorry throats tomorrow ..."

***

"Well, did he?" Harry says. "Did Ben have to make you two drink seasickness cure?"

"Oh, no," I reply. "We were perfectly responsible."

~~~

Ben just about splits a gut laughing when he comes across Joey and I the next day, both bent double, leaning over the ship railing and clutching our stomachs.

"Well done, boys," he says, giving us each a slap across the back just to wind us up. We both moan, and Joey tells Ben to do something extremely impolite.

I hear a chuckle, and Ben looks calmly out at the still, blue sea.

"I hope it was worth it," Ben tells us, "because it is a beautiful day for sailing."

Joey looks at me, his green tinged face damp with sweat. I look him straight in the eye, and we both nod.

"So worth it," we say at almost the exact same time.

We both throw up spectacularly, and Ben just shakes his head, leaving the both of us to try and swallow some seasickness cure.

~~~

"Yes, perfectly responsible," I mutter again after a moment of silence, and Harry snickers softly, having guessed exactly what I neglected to say. I pin him with a glare that makes most first years turn a ghostly white, but he just snickers louder. I'll have to work on that glare of mine if I want to avoid getting letters from Minerva.