"I love the people who can make me laugh during the moments when I feel like I can't even smile."

Unknown

A/N - inspired by the song 'Travelin' Soldier' by The Chicks.

Cokeworth
1957

The dimly lit bar buzzed with the sounds of clinking glasses and murmured conversations. It was a typical Friday night in Cokeworth, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of unspoken worries and hidden desires. But for Tobias Snape, it felt like the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders as, seated alone at a corner table, he nursed his drink, his gaze fixated on the blue ribbon wrapped tightly around his hand.

Each thread seemed to weave a story of its own - a tale of courage, sacrifice, and the unspoken bond between father and son.

At just a few days shy of eighteen, the young man felt he was standing before a crossroad; torn between the pull of duty and the fear of the unknown. The son of a Squib who had fought valiantly in the Second World War - a proud soldier who'd surpassed his own misgivings in life, lingered in the teen's mind like a ghost; naught but a silent reminder of the sacrifices made in service of their country.

He remembered the stories his mother had told him, the tales of bravery and sacrifice that painted a picture of a man he had never known. And as he clutched at the blue ribbon tightly in his hand, Tobias couldn't shake the feeling that enlisting in the army was his destiny, his way of honouring his father's memory and proving himself worthy of the legacy that was Snape.

But it wasn't just his father's legacy that drove Tobias to consider joining the army. The events of his childhood, of the very last few years, had left an indelible mark on his psyche and reshaped his worldview in ways he could scarcely comprehend.

Memories of the London bombings flooded the young man's mind, the sound of air-raid sirens and the deafening roar of explosions still fresh in his memory. He had been but a child then, huddled in the darkness with his mother as the world around them crumbled. The loss of his father, a soldier who had never returned from the battlefield, had left a void that could never be filled. And now, as Tobias faced the prospect of another war, he couldn't seem to shake off the feeling of helplessness that had consumed him in those dark days; of the uncertainty and fear, the nagging doubt that did whisper of the dangers that would await him on the field of battle - of the very things that had taken his Da from him.

As he sat in the dimly lit bar, Tobias glanced around, his dark eyes lingering on the other patrons as they went about their business; completely oblivious to the turmoil raging within him. There were men and woman of all ages, their faces drawn and weary, their laughter tinged with an all-too familiar bitterness and regret that Cokeworth was known for.

Yet it was in the background, the crackling of static before a voice managed to filter its way through, that drew Tobias' attention; an announcer on the radio who revealed the latest updates from the front lines that did manage to send a shiver trickling down his spine.

The announcer's voice was grave as he detailed the latest developments in Vietnam, painting a grim picture of a war seemingly without end, and Tobias listened intently to each and every word, his heart heavy with a sense of foreboding.

It was in moments like these that the eighteen-year-old felt the pull of destiny tugging at his heartstrings, urging him to take action, to make a difference in a world gone mad. The war in Vietnam had been raging for just two years, but already it had claimed countless lives and shattered countless families, leaving naught but a trail of destruction in its wake.

He thought of his father, a soldier who had given his life in service to his country, and he felt a surge of pride and determination wash over him.

Was this not his chance to honour his father's memory, to prove himself worthy of the legacy he had inherited?

"Is everything alright, love?"

A soft voice interrupted Tobias' reverie, breaking through the haze of his thoughts and causing him to startled, head jerking up to find a young woman dressed in a simple waitress uniform, the nametag pinned to her chest reading 'Eileen', standing beside his table. She was petite, with her dark hair pulled back into a neat bun and warm, expressive brown eyes that seemed to see right through him.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," the seventeen-year-old mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat; his fingers tightening around the ribbon in his hand as if it could somehow anchor him to reality.

Though the action had brown eyes flickering to the blue strip of fabric before returning to Tobias' features, Eileen asking with a voice that was gentle and inviting, "Mind if I join you for a moment?" and clearly not believing a word that had left the teen's mouth.

Tobias hesitated, caught off guard by her kindness. However, "I... I suppose not. Could use the company," he did finally reply, his voice a bit steadier as relief mingled with curiosity.

Eileen pulled out the chair across from Tobias, her eyes never leaving his face. "You seem troubled," she observed softly, her tone filled with empathy. "Is there something on your mind?"

Hesitating once more, Tobias was unsure where to begin. Did he even want to reveal his problems to someone who, if she did live in the hovel that was Cokeworth, would most likely already have their own. But as he looked into those warm, kind, knowing brown eyes, the teen felt an unexpected and sudden urge to confide in Eileen; to share his fears and uncertainties with someone who seemed to understand.

"I... I've been thinking about enlisting," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Of joining the army and-"

Though before Tobias could finish his sentence, the radio crackled to life, the announcer's voice cutting through the dimly lit bar with an urgency that sent shivers down his spine. "And in other news, British forces have been deployed to Vietnam in response to escalating tensions in the region," the announcer declared, his tone grave.

Tobias froze, his eyes widening as the weight of each word sank in. The bar seemed to go quieted, the murmurs and clinks of glasses fading into the background as the announcer continued, detailing the reasons behind Britain's involvement in the conflict, and Eileen, noticing the shift in his demeanour, was quick to put one and one together; her gaze once more dropping to the ribbon wrapped around Tobias' pale hand.

"You thinking of going," she said softly, more of a statement than a question, as her eyes rose to meet Tobias' dark gaze; the intensity of his own brown, almost black eyes revealing the turmoil that did rage within.

The teen nodded slowly. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice heavy with emotion. "It's- I feel like it's something I have to do."

Eileen studied Tobias for a moment, her expression thoughtful. She could see the pain in his eyes, the weight of responsibility he carried, and she understood. She had her own burdens, much like any other; yet hers was a past that she had fled, and it was easy for the runaway to recognise the look of someone trying to escape their demons by facing them head-on.

"Your father," she began to ask at the same time she reached across the table, her hand coming to rest next to ribbon that wrapped around Tobias' hand. She did not touch it, whether out of respect or something more. But as her fingers danced just above the fabric, a motion - had he actually felt it - Tobias believed would have been as tender and gentle as a whispered wind, the seventeen-year-old found his breath stolen as Eileen ended her question with the simple yet emotionally compromising, "He was a soldier, wasn't he?"

Tobias could only nod, the mention of his father bringing a bittersweet pain that did twist his lips. "He was," he said quietly, white-knuckled fingers loosening ever so slightly around the blue fabric. "He was- he served with honour. But he never came back."

"I'm sorry," Eileen said sincerely, her fingers stilling beside Tobias hand as the realisation for his turmoil hit her like the Hogwarts Express. And she added, "It must have been incredibly hard for you."

"It was... still is," Tobias admitted, "And now, with what's happening... I feel like it's my duty to follow in his footsteps, to honour his memory. But at the same time, I'm scared. I don't know if I can, if I could actually go and..." he trailed off, voice having become thick with emotion.

"It's natural to be scared," Eileen told him, her own filled with understanding. "War is a terrible thing. But you have to do what you think is right. If enlisting feels like the right thing to do, then don't let fear hold you back. But... if you have doubts, it's okay to take some time to think it over."

Dark brown met warm chocolate, Tobias searching for the reassurance he didn't feel himself within Eileen's eyes. "D-do you really think so?" he whispered.

"I do," Eileen nodded with a small, encouraging smile. "You have to follow your heart, wherever it may take you. But remember, whatever decision you make, just make sure it's one you can be proud of; one that you can live with."

As he absorbed her words, Tobias felt, for the first time that night, a glimmer of hope. Eileen's words were like a balm to his troubled soul, easing the turmoil that had been raging within him. And he returned her smile with one of his own, his grip upon the ribbon in his hand finally relaxing as he murmured a quiet, "Thank you," his voice filled with gratitude.

"No need to thank me," she replied. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, alright?"

Before Tobias could respond, a shout from across the bar interrupted their conversation. "Eileen! We need you over here!"

The waitress glanced over her shoulder, then back to Tobias, a look of reluctant acknowledgement on her face. "Duty calls," she said with a soft sigh.

Yet, and as she began to rise, something within Tobias panicked, and acting on impulse he reached out and grabbed her hand. The contact was firm yet gentle, a silent plea for a promise. And as Eileen's warm eyes returned to his, he could only tell her, "I will."