Prologue

Albus bit his lip. This was not how he wanted his day to be.

Rose slowly walked over to Albus, with a peaceful look on her face, but it seemed forced. Her eyes, though, were blazing, and her cheeks seemed on fire.

"Albus—Severus—Potter!" Rose yelled. A few people turned their heads to get a look at them, but Rose didn't care.

"What in the name of God—"

Albus backed up.

"—where you thinking?" Rose's face flushed with anger.

Albus didn't change his expressionless face.

"If I knew you would be overreacting like this," Albus said quietly. "I'd have been more careful."

Rose laughed coldly. "This is overreacting to you? Well, I haven't even started."

Albus backed up even more, but Rose closed in on him before he could escape.

"I told you not to go there, I told you!" Rose roared with tears now forming in her eyes. "I told you! It would have been better for you! If only you weren't the ignorant, stupid idiot I have to put up with!"

Albus could not face her. He turned his back on her.

Rose continued angrily. "If you think you can escape me, you are so—"

Albus turned to her.

"Go—away." Albus said quietly. "Go AWAY."

He could not stand it anymore. He ran away from her, away from the bus station, from the people around him, who were now very interested in the fight. He was very aware of Rose chasing him, but didn't even care, after all, what did Rose care for him? He could imagine Rose trying to catch up with Albus (who was very fast) with a hard look in her face, and when he turned around, ready to yell a bit more, Rose ran at him and kissed him.

There are small apologies, there are big apologies, and there are the apologies that seemed to make up for everything. Rose did not even care, care what he would say, care what his parents would say, what her own parents would say, and put all her emotions into that little apology, that, even only lasting a minute or two, was the best apology Albus could have gotten.

It seemed to have lasted a few sunshiny days, before they broke apart.

"I'm sorry," Rose whispered, "I shouldn't have."

She walked away without looking back. Albus stood there, stunned. It would have taken a few hours to dig him out...if he was in a hole. And indeed he felt like he was.

"Hey,wait!" Albus yelled after her. "Wait!" He was too late. He watched as Rose Weasley disappeared in the crowd.

Chapter 1-The Beginning

Before we see what happens when Albus went home, we should see first where the story starts.

Rose Weasley and Albus Severus Potter were both in 5th year at Hogwarts, Albus being 15 and Rose fourteen going on fifteen. They were the best of friends, always sticking together. You could frequently find them laughing over a joke book in the library, racing each other on the lawn near the lake, or studying together in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Naturally, when they got word of the next Hogsmeade visit date, they planned to go together. After a week or two, everyone gathered in the courtyard and headed off to Hogsmeade in pairs and trios.

"We could go to the Three Broomsticks," Albus said. "Or Honeydukes, I heard the new flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans just went on sale there."

Rose wrinkled up her nose. "Probably some flavor like ink or fungus, I'm not that willing to try it out."

"Or," Albus continued. "We could go exploring."

Rose smiled. She was always the adventurous girl, like her Aunt Ginny was.

"That sounds fun," Rose laughed as she surveyed a new quill on sale at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop as Hogsmeade appeared before them." We really should. We always go to places like the Three Broomsticks and Honeyduke's, it's getting boring. And," She said as Albus opened his mouth to speak. "Fungus flavored beans are not at the top of my priority list, thank you very much."

Albus grinned.

"That's my girl. Where should we start?" He said.

Rose pointed at the Shrieking Shack. "There, of course."

They headed in, seeing the clear inch of dust on the floor of the shack. It was deserted; no student had come in today. Albus shuddered.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked as she breathed in like it was fresh sea air.

"This was where my namesake was killed." Albus said quietly.

A cold wind seemed to have swept over him.

"But you hardly knew him, right? Let's try to find a cabinet full of treasure or something; it'll be ten times a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks." Rose said earnestly.

Albus agreed with a nod, even though he felt like he wasn't supposed to be there. He looked around and got on his knees, scrambling around. When it seemed like there was nothing except for a lot of claw marks, he gave up. Suddenly, he found a golden S scratched into the wooden floor. He examined the mark; it seemed to be normal, but it troubled him. He then accidentally touched his wand to the mark; it opened up into a hole that seemed too small for a 15 year old to climb into. Albus murmured Engorgio, and the whole became wider at once.

He looked over at Rose, who was looking through a pile of battered books she had found. I don't need to tell her, He thought. I could just slip in, check it out, and climb right out. There were a number of rocks on a side of the hole that he could use to climb up. This was his big chance to find something about his middle-namesake, Severus Snape.

Here goes nothing, He thought as he slipped right into the hole. It was like a slide, except for he couldn't see the end. He ran his fingers against the walls, they were marble and smooth; it did not seem like a monster's lair or anything of the sort. He suddenly felt onto the cold, marble floor.

He lit up his wand, not knowing what would happen next. Searching the dark room for something, maybe treasure, maybe a dead man's tomb, he hit against something rock hard, and round. He put his wand against the thing and tried to figure out what it was.

It was a Pensieve from what his father had described, having used one himself in his 6th year at Hogwarts. A cauldron of murky substance lay in the collections of tiny bottles were put in cabinets along the wall. He took out a single bottle, which held a golden streak of light inside it, and tipped into the Pensieve.

The Pensieve started to swirl very fast, almost like a whirlwind, maybe, and suddenly formed a picture of a greasy haired boy, with a long nose, and a girl with long red hair.

What the heck, He thought, as he put his head into the Pensieve. He was suddenly sucked into the cauldron, sucked into the nothingness that seemed to never fade.