It does not bode well when your counterpart Disapparates immediately after you name the price for the favour you ask of him. It is nothing short of ominous when the favour in question is a desperate plea rather than a request or an offer. The only thing that can make the situation graver still is the knowledge of the price named.

It had taken me only a second to shut out the part of my mind that could have prevented me from uttering that dangerous word, that could have advocated thought, reason and caution... Caution? I cannot help but laugh hollowly at my own thoughts, not hearing myself over the wind that seems stronger than ever now that the small refuge created by Dumbledore has disappeared with him.

Caution implies some form of self-preservation, and what would be the point of that? Why would I care about my well-being, health, or life, if it meant risking her death? What life could I speak of, if she died? So, caution was thrown to the winds the very moment I had sent the message to Dumbledore - no, much earlier. When I learned that... When I realised what I had done...

No! I pull myself to my feet. There is no point in dwelling on that thought. It is not too late yet. I have done everything I could. Dumbledore will keep her safe. That is what matters. It matters not what I promised in return.

It is not knowing what will be asked of me that would give me a slight chill, were I capable of worrying about myself at the moment. Yet were I forced to go back in time to a few minutes ago, I would have given the same answer. There was only one thing I could promise in return for her safety. And that was 'anything'.

"Very well," he had answered, and left me alone on the hilltop, with nothing but my thoughts and the suddenly heavy promise. And... hope. Hope that outshone even the fear of the extent of the price I would yet pay.

I walk downhill, not caring about the direction, and find my thoughts wandering into my suddenly vague future. What will he have me do? Spy for him, most likely. I am, after all, perfectly expendable. Neither side would mourn me, were I discovered. This is the double-edged benefit of being me. My usefulness is firmly rooted in the fact that not a soul in the world is in any way attached to me.

What prevents me from being perfect in that respect is the inability to add the words 'and vice versa' to the earlier statement. For Dumbledore, however, it makes me a better candidate still. After all, how would I dare to as much as think of backing out on my promise, knowing it is up to him to keep her safe? I have now given him a grip on me stronger than anyone else had, ever.

He would not use her as leverage against me, of course... He would not... Would he? He is not the Dark Lord, after all. He would never stoop as low as to even threaten someone of his own. Now that he knows about the danger, he will take all necessary measures to protect her... along with those two.

I kick apart a few mounds of wet leaves as I walk. Blasted Potter. As if endangering her with that child of his was not enough, now he cannot even keep his eyes and ears sufficiently open to know what dangers are lurking in the shadows, what perils are hanging over his precious wife! One would think that after spending so many years constantly at his wits' end for new ways to woo her - not that it was ever that long a stroll, naturally - he would treasure her enough to be constantly on the lookout, fear to lose her enough to protect her at all cost, not drag her on missions with him, or have a strange fancy to have himself a son, now, in the middle of a war! And now that he has endangered her in every way possible, who ends up doing a tightrope walk over an abyss, caught in the cross-fire of Unforgivables? Our wonderful shining hero of a Head Boy, the brightest Phoenix in the Order? Oh no, leave it up to the greasy gits like myself to sneak, and spy, and lie, while occasionally succeeding at another feat utterly unattainable by some others - think.

Oh well. Should my guess as to my task with Dumbledore be at all correct, I will end up seeing some Order members eventually. Who knows... Who knows how things may change in the light of additional knowledge as to the roles of certain people in the protection of her son. After all, was it not me who, as of this moment, has done more than anyone in order to ward off the danger? Was it not me who learned of the danger first, and has done everything possible to prevent it, at a great personal risk, may I add?

Was it not me, however, who had placed her in danger in the first place?.. No, it was not! The prophecy could have referred to anyone - it was not me who defied the Dark Lord thrice together with her, it was not me who gave her that child! And for a change, it is not her who is rescuing me this time.

Not the best way to save her, of course. The best way, naturally, would be learning of the Dark Lord's intention and destination when it is almost too late - but still, not too late yet - and rush after him, and arrive in the nick of time to... To do what? I ponder a few scenarios in my mind.

I could arrive just in time to see Potter duelling with the Dark Lord, and help the former if the odds appeared to be not in his favour, as they naturally would... Actually fight alongside Potter - what a notion, but if it helped protect Lily... I would do it. I would.

Also, I could arrive a little bit later, to find Lily trying to protect the child, and throw myself between her and the Dark Lord, and hope that the duel with Potter had weakened him at least a little. I would, I definitely would have the strength to win, to be the rescuer and not the rescued, in her eyes, for the first time ever... And well... it would be too much to expect her to throw herself in my arms even then, but still... I would be the man who saved the life of her child. Surely, even if she refused to let me take care of her - of them both, that is - that would at least merit some forgiveness for the old misdeeds?

And were I not strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord and survive, but only enough to give my life to finish him, surely she would have realised... How my sacrifice was much greater than Potter's, because he would have given his life for his wife, his child, while I was ready to - and did - sacrifice myself for something that was never mine, something that he made sure was never mine. Hell, for that realisation alone I would agree to have Potter stay alive in the end. Someone would still have to take care of Lily, after all, and... he would never feel either grateful or guilty, but on her behalf, some gratitude would be in order. Some belated comprehension, maybe even remorse... Maybe later she would tell her son that she once had a good friend called Severus.

I find myself standing in the middle of a field, drenched throughout, frozen to the bone, and wearing an utterly idiotic wistful expression. Feeling heroic, Severus? You should have picked a different side to start with, then. That way, you would have been among the heroes recognised originally, not belatedly and reluctantly. And since when do you require recognition, anyway?

I Apparate home, throw the wet clothes off and climb under a blanket. Sleep seems to have been hovering just around the corner, only waiting for me to feel a little warmer. As I drift off slowly, I feel myself relax for the first time in what feels like years. Not even the feeble attempts of my mind to bring myself around can destroy the strange warmth within that has nothing to do with the blanket. There will be no heroics. There will, most likely, be no recognition or comprehension. There will definitely be trouble, sooner or later. And the hope I nurture so carefully - its survival chances are even smaller than mine.

No matter. Even if I never see her again, she will be safe. Dumbledore will make sure of that. Finally, I managed to do something right.

I find myself smiling in the darkness.