I haven't the time to write anymore, but one final entry of consequence must be made. I have been teaching for the last semester here, and gather no enjoyment from it, though it is, no doubt, a good position. I will try and keep this brief, because I am in no hurry to contemplate further what I must write here. Committing it once to these pages, it cannot be relived in the mind, or seen through a pensieve. I mean to burn this tonight.

Albus – I now call him by his given name, as we are all faculty here at Hogwarts, though it was strange to get used to at first – asked if I would do him the kindness of returning to Godric's Hollow, where he grew up, and retrieving something he had left with his brother Aberforth. I agreed because I could do nothing else, and thus I found myself on a warm summer's evening in the tiny wizarding village, when I once again, inexplicably, encountered Lily Potter. My thoughts had not left her all this while, in spite of all. My love for her reaches further than time. Strangely enough, it is her love which drives me to do what I do, though I know that she would hate it if she knew.

I overheard a conversation in the Hog's Head inn between Albus and the newly-hired divinations professor, a woman of little wit and less wisdom, that has brought my thoughts more and more to her, as the dark lord is now concerned by my report.

"Lily," I began, shocked almost beyond the power of further utterance. "What in Merlin's name–"

"Severus." Her eyes were wide. "Who told you –"

"I am here on Hogwarts business for the headmaster," I supplied. "I had no idea..."

"James and I – we've come to live here for a time," she stammered. "It's not supposed to be widely known, not since –"

Fear was painted on her face. It was all I could do not to take her hand, but habit is a hard thing to break, and I have never indulged the expression of emotion, so I could not overcome my instinct to remain as I was even now. It was a strange battle with both sides waging equal strength. I often feel like a man of many opposites.

"Since?" I inquired, knowing my status as a Death Eater was likely to prevent her confiding in me, but risking the kindness nevertheless, for old time's sake. Then I realized what she meant. Since the birth of her child. She no longer bore the altered swell in her abdomen, and her slim, lithe form had returned entirely to its original state.

She nodded, reading my face as she is wont to do, a face which no one else can seem to penetrate. I felt a rising resentment at this, and a thousand other things. A man of opposites. Ah.

"We've named him Harry," Lily spoke at last.

Harry. Harry Potter. I could scarcely resist the sneer that came to my lip. "At least you ought to have given him a decent name. Name him for his father," I spat.

"I can't," Lily said almost voicelessly.

"Why not?"

"He doesn't know."

I froze. Suddenly my voice failed me as well, as what she implied took root in my heart. Fool that I am. Fool that I am.

"His hair," I managed. "What color?"

"Black," Lily whispered. Potter's is indifferent brown at best.

"And his eyes?"

"Like mine," she returned, looking away.

I could scarcely breathe.

"So you think..."

She nodded mutely. I felt cold all over. Fool that I am.

I fled her presence that day. Nothing can be proven. Nothing can be proven. The dark lord thinks the one to fulfill the prophecy of his downfall will be this child. If this is so, then Lily and the child are in great danger. I would do anything to protect them. Anything.

It is too dangerous to write of things like this now. In these days a mere look in the wrong direction at the wrong time can send you to Azkaban, let alone a tome filled with incriminating voicings of the soul.

I commit this journal to the flames. In spite of all, I would have Lily know that I love her. After all this time, and always. But no one can know.

No one

Can

Know