A/N: A good portion of this chapter should look familiar, as it will be the memories revealed in The Princes Tale (ch33DealthyHallows) ... but through Draco's perspective to tie together this stories plot... (obviously) some scenes/conversations will be slightly altered. / Enjoy&REVIEW
Chapter Playlist:
Flight : Johannes Bornlof
Willow : Jasmine Thompson
Near Light : Olafur Arnalds
Hey Now : London Grammar
Lily : Alan Walker
reverie : isaac gracie
Nocturne in a Minor. : Chad Lawson
*River Flows in You : Yiruma
Experience : Ludovico Einaudi
Circle : Ludovico Einaudi
Draco glanced behind him to where Hermione and Theo were standing on the lower level within the attic of the safe house, and then back at Potter who stood before him on the raised platform where a stone Pensieve lay upon of a stack of wooden crates.
"Ready?"
Harry nodded at him, and Draco inhaled a deep breath before tipping the contents of the small vial into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge.
After being exposed to everything Potter's connection to Voldemort, Draco was finding his thoughts unbearable, and with the amount of effort he was putting into silencing his unwanted thoughts, he imagined diving into this pensieve, into someone else's head, would be an enormous relief… he wondered if anything Dumbledore had hidden away for him and Potter to view could be worse than what they had already endured.
Between him and Harry, the memories swirled, silver, white and strange, without another moments hesitation, feeling almost eager to abandon reality, if only for a moment, as if by doing so it would assuage his torturing anxiety and guilt, Draco nodded at Harry and they both began lowering their faces towards the silver glaring back at them.
"How long have they been in there you think?" Hermione asked Theo after a long stretch of silence passed.
She and Theo had moved to sit in the corner where two sheet covered chairs sat near an arched window. Well... she sat as Theo paced just before her, then sat for a moment, his knee bouncing anxiously, then he was up out of his seat once more and pacing the length of the window and their seating area, his fingers fiddling with his wand at his side.
Theo lifted his gaze to Draco and Harry, running his hands through his hair.
"Not sure. Twenty minutes, maybe longer?"
Hermione sighed and returned her attention back to her notebook filled with all the information she collected on Horcruxes sitting in her lap. Theo stopped pacing then and sat before her, inching his chair closer to look over her notes.
"Distract me."
Hermione couldn't suppress her small smirk as his knee continued to bounce, his hands gripped tightly as he rested his weight on his knees, causing his arms to bounce as well. She wouldn't say it aloud, she knew if she did he would disregard her or simply change the subject, veering from the topic of his ability to care— but it was glaringly obvious to her now… she wondered why she hadn't picked up on it before: Theo cared for Harry. She was wondering if their comforting one another last night hadn't been the first time as she observed them interacting earlier with more attention.
She thought back to the moments when Theo would bring her potions back in Draco's room… the way he would tense and seemed to scurry off whenever she tried to mention Harry.
She thought back to the moment Draco decided he wanted to help her find Harry and asked Theo and Blaise to join him, and Theo's outburst of emotions as a response, which was certainly not the most rational response in her opinion.
She thought of all the times where she spoke of Harry around Theo and she was realizing that maybe she had misread his tense nature— thinking it loathing instead of longing, which was quite apparent now. She had felt his reasons for helping Draco ran deeper, but she thought perhaps it was a conscious thing— that perhaps he didn't want to be a Death Eater, or wanted to do the right thing— which might have been partly true… but now she felt foolish for never noticing it before. She felt even more foolish for not realizing that perhaps Harry felt similarly. He was very best friend.
"Can I ask you something?" She said after a long moment of Theo glancing over her notes. He lifted his gaze then, his features conveying his usual bored expression, but she knew him better now, could see the chaos dancing wildly behind his eyes, the desperation and fear that she couldn't place before seeing him around Harry.
"I suppose... though, whether I decided to respond depends entirely on what it is you ask."
She decided it may be better to lead up to her true intentions of curiosity. Start off with something light hearted. She shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter.
"Draco told me you kissed him when you two were younger... that he was your first crush."
Theo let out a soft laugh, smirking at her, "Worried I'll steal your boyfriend, Granger?"
Hermione blushed, but decidedly ignored his attempts to get under her skin.
"No. I'm certain you've no intentions of doing so."
Theo lifted a suspicious brow, "Oh?"
"Though I do believe you may have your sights on someone else close to me…"
She let her sentence trail off, knowing he normally stopped her with a snide comment about her being nosey or that his personal life was none of her business; which is perhaps, why she was confused when he said nothing at all. His gaze drifted behind her to where Harry and Draco were and then down his fumbling hands in his lap.
"You have for while, haven't you?"
He didn't look up. She noticed his Adam's apple bounce in his throat as he swallowed, his brow pulled together slightly.
"I needed you to distract me, Granger," His voice was low as he spoke into his lap. "—not remind me why I need a distraction in the first place."
"I'm sorry." Hermione shifted back in her seat, feeling the same painful tightness in her chest that she felt when they overheard Theo's father yesterday. "I, um, I was just going over my research on the Horcruxes— specifically how we're going to destroy the cup."
Theo seemed to relax slightly, leaning forward to look over her notes with her again.
"How'd you destroy the last one?"
"Sword of Gryffindor... which could be anywhere now. Harry said Griphook took off with it, but he was— um, I saw him—"
"In the memory. He was one of the Goblins the Dark Lord murdered?"
Hermione nodded.
"Brilliant. So no sword. Is that the only way?"
"Not exactly… in second year Harry destroyed Riddle's diary with a basilisk fang. That's why the sword worked actually… it was impregnated with basilisk venom." Hermione smirked at Theo playfully, "—you don't have any basilisk's laying around do you, Nott?"
"I know this may come as a shock to you, Granger, but my resourcefulness does have it's limits…" Theo replied, leaning back in his chair, seemingly lost in thought. A moment later his gaze darted to Hermione's. "Wait... Harry... the Chamber of Secrets. He killed the basilisk there!"
"Right…" Hermione nodded, uncertain why he suddenly looked so alert.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I hardly think Dumbledore or anyone else removed that large of a beasts skeleton from the chamber without anyone hearing about it…"
Hermione bolted forward, her smile growing across her face. "Of course! To destroy the cup we just have to go to the Chamber and remove one of the basilisks fangs! Theo! That's— That's— you're—"
"Brilliant?" Theo offered, nodding with a sigh. "Yes. I know."
"This is perfect! Once we get to the castle Harry can search for the next horcrux while we destroy the cup in the Chamber! Oh, this is wonderful— I can't believe I didn't think of it before— it's obvious— so completely obvious—"
"Don't strain yourself, Granger." Theo patted the back of her hand that was now curled in her hair near her temple. "You can't always be the brightest in the room. Share some of the glory, will ya?"
Hermione laughed then. "Right. You're right. Oh, Theo—" She let out a long relieved sigh, glancing back towards Harry. "You should be the one to tell Harry. He'll be very impressed with you."
Theo smirked then, "I'm not sure this is more impressive than what I did for him last night, but—"
"Nott!" Hermione's eyes widened, a heat of color rushing to her face.
"As if you have any right to act bashful, Granger. You're very vocal while in the throws of passion. Lucky for you, Draco's into that sort of thing. Pretty sure it soothes his insecurities of never being enough. Your moans probably drown out the darker 'she could never love someone like me' banter happening inside his head as he shoves his head between your—"
"Let's stop talking about this now! Yes?" Herminoe shifted in her seat, glaring as Theo began to slightly laugh at her.
"You started it."
Hermione's stomach grumbled then, though she was grateful for the interruption it also reminded her that she had hardly eaten anything in the past two days.
"Come on." Theo said, rising to his feet and nodding towards the attic door. "They'll come find us when they've finished. I'm starving too."
Hermione was going to protest, but her stomach grumbled again and she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
"Fine." She relented and glanced at Harry and Draco once more before following Theo out of the attic and down the staircase.
Hermione was surprised to see Lupin sitting across from Pansy and Daphne, with Ginny and Luna sitting next to him at the small round table in the kitchen near the piano when they sauntered down the stairs. There were a few recruits on the far side of the room sitting on the long lounge chaise going over some books Hermione imagined Remus gave them on werewolf transformations. They seemed relaxed enough, though she was certain that had more to do with the calming draught she could smell wafting from one of the cauldrons she and Theo passed as they moved to join the others. Blaise noticed them approaching first, he was leaning on the wall behind Ginny's seat, Neville on his right, behind Luna's chair.
"Find those answers then?" Blaise asked them lifting a glass of water to his lips.
"Draco and Potter are still sorting it out in the attic. Granger and I came down to grab something to eat. Any of Mink's sandwiches left?"
"You left Malfoy alone in an attic with Harry?" Ginny asked, slightly stunned.
"You would think she would have caught on by now." Pansy drawled lazily, speaking more to Daphne than anyone else, though she was hardly whispering. "Honestly, is stupidity a trait passed within the Weasley clan, or is it just her and the Weasel? I mean the twin Weasels', even I can admit, are clever enough—"
"Watch it Pansy." Blaise countered before Ginny could retort.
"Hello again Hermione! Hello Theo!"
Luna's voice sprung out over the rest and Hermione moved to hug her. Her smile slowly faltered as Neville approached her next.
"Neville…" She lifted her fingers to graze the scar along his forehead, but he only shrugged.
"It's not so bad… besides I've given as good as I got." He pulled her into a hug. "It's good to see you Hermione."
She squeezed him back tighter and nodded, "It's good to see you too." When she pulled back she nodded at the scar, "Is that from the Carrows?"
"Yea... got it from refusing to torture a first year. No big deal though. They're locked up now. Can't harm anyone else as long as McGonagall's in charge. You should have seen her dueling them both at once."
"It was scary good." Ginny added.
Hermione tried to force a small smile, but failed.
"We were just discussing how many Order members have made it into Hogwarts." Remus said then. Hermione glanced at the table, recognizing the large piece of parchment and frowned.
"The map! But how did you—"
"It's an earlier edition. Not as detailed as the first we made, but it shows us whose made it in." Remus explained, shoving the parchment towards her. Her eyes scanned the names, her heart fluttering slightly as Ronald Bilius Weasley appeared along with other members of his family.
"This was one of the first maps we attempted… It only shows the Great Hall and Gryffindor Tower... Sirius burnt the other half during an experiment with a toad if you can believe it." Remus added fondly.
Her eyes scanned over the rest of the names, stopping on a few she vaguely recognized, one standing out among the rest that she thought she recognized engraved on the potion bottles she used to drink while in Draco's room. She turned to Blaise.
"Marcus Laurent? Isn't that you're step father's name?"
"Blaise managed to recruit some international soldiers of his own." Ginny answered instead, causing Hermione to turn to her. "His step father is pretty influential in the underground trade market in France. Blaise convinced him to spread the word about You-Know-Who and Greyback… turns on there's an entire clan of Russian Vampires who despise Greyback as much as Pansy does."
"Hm," Pansy hummed, "-maybe you have been paying attention, Weaslette, though, I doubt anyone can hate Greyback as much as I do."
"I'd wager there are quite a few who anchor as much fury for him in this very safe house." Remus said with a slight smirk, "—myself included."
"You're step father convinced a clan of Vampires to fight with us?" Theo asked Blaise, coming to stand next to Hermione, handing her a sandwich.
Blaise cross his arms over his chest, "You sound surprised."
Theo shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. "No. I'm just glad you were smart enough not to bring them here to terrorize my safe house unlike some other inconsiderate witches I know..."
Pansy rolled her eyes, "Oh, come off it, Theo… you can sort your precious furniture out after we win the war, yea?"
Theo only narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth still chewing. He swallowed then. "There are claw marks… everywhere — blood still seeping into my dinning table— and if I find one flee, Parkinson, I swear to Merlin—"
"For fuck's sake, Nott— we haven't got any flees—" Pansy groaned.
Theo flung his hand loftily in the air, turning away from them as he shoved the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth.
"I know a good repelling spell for that. It even ensures none of the fleas are harmed." Luna added brightly and Theo bowed politely in acknowledgement to someone giving attention to his trivial issues, thought Hermione knew now that this was his way of distracting himself from what was really bothering him.
"How many Vampires are intending to fight?" Hermione asked Blaise, ignoring Daphne, Pansy and Theo still grumbling behind them.
"Close to a hundred."
"That's… Blaise, that's incredible."
He smiled, nodding. "It is, isn't it?"
"Want to hear what McGonagall's doing to protect the castle? It's bloody brilliant." Neville asked her as they moved to take Pansy and Daphne's now empty seats. The two witches were standing beside the piano where Daphne was ushering one of the recruits from the piano bench and began demanding Theo show them how to actually play, as the others continued to inform Hermione of everything she and Harry missed since they left for their Horcrux hunt. She felt Ginny's hand in hers, squeezing it once, and they shared a quick smile. As she finished her sandwich and glanced around at the familiar faces of her friends, knowing Ron was safe at Hogwarts, Harry and Draco just upstairs... she felt full— she felt alive, and more prepared to fight than she ever had before.
After Draco and Harry dove headlong into the blinding brightness covering a vast open field, the images began to shift quickly before them, revealing memory after memory: Snape's memories.
Draco first saw two young girls in that open field, a large willow tree shading a playground as they swung on an old swing set. He could hear Harry's muffled whisper from somewhere outside the memory as he said, 'That's my mother …'
Draco watched as Snape, who couldn't have been older than nine or ten, as he spied on the two young girls. Lily and her sister. He listened as Snape approached them, explaining to her what she was, 'You're— You're a witch…'
And he watched how devastated Snape appeared to be when she ran away... The scene dissolved into another.
Then Draco and Harry were standing in a thicker field of trees, a river rustling off in the distance as Lily and Snape sat before one another and he described magic, the Ministry and Hogwarts to her.
'Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?' Draco felt Harry glance at him and they both listened with equal amounts of disbelief as Snape took Lily's hand and smiled at her, 'No. It doesn't make any difference.'
Then the scene dissolved and they were on platform nine and three quarters and Lily's sister was shouting at her, calling her a freak. Then they were on the train to Hogwarts and Snape was comforting Lily, until two boys sitting in their compartment overheard their conversation and turned to them. The boy looked identical to Harry. Draco didn't have to ask him, he knew. This was James Potter and next to him Sirius Black. Moments later Lily and Snape stomped out of the compartment, glaring as the two boys snickered after them.
The scene dissolved once more and Draco and Harry were moving along a group of students in the Great Hall awaiting to be sorted. They stood just behind Snape as he faced the candlelit House tables, lined with rapt faces. Professor McGonagall's voice calling out students after student. Lily Evans was sorted into Gryffindor, but not before sharing a sad smile with Snape before she sat next to Sirius Black. Snape was sorted, as the hat called out Slytherin and he made his way to the correct table Draco had to stop himself from running towards the younger version of his father patting Snape on the back. The sight of his father causing his heartbeat to panic within his chest. He couldn't remember a time his father looked so youthful, without pain etched into every line on his withered face; but before he could do anything the scene was shifting once more.
Harry and Draco were following behind slightly older versions of Snape and Lily as they shuffled through the castle's courtyard. They listened as Lily argued with him about his friends using Dark Magic and he responded by reminding her that James Potter were no better. Snape looked flustered and aggravated, but eventually softened as Lily told him she called James Potter an arrogant toerag. Draco hardly had enough time to wonder why these memories were meant for him to see and the scene dissolved into another.
Snape was leaving the Great Hall, wandering away from the castle, straying inadvertently close to the place beneath the beech tree where James, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew sat together. They began moving towards him, but Draco felt Harry firmly turn away from the scene, causing Draco to remain by his side, unable to move towards Snape to hear why they were teasing him, why James Potter was lifting Snape into the sky and why Lily was shouting at James to stop, coming to Snape's defense.
"I already know what happens." Harry's muffled voice said, his back still turned from the scene.
Distantly, Draco heard Snape began to shout. He turned his attention back on the ruffled looking Snape as he pulled from Lily's grasp, shouting at her in his humiliation and fury. Draco was about to ask Harry why he bothered to begin walking away, knowing they couldn't leave the memory until Snape wanted them too, but then he heard it, the unforgivable word he had used himself numerous times and could practically taste the hatred in his mouth, and he flinched as that very word sprung from Snape directed directly at Lily: Mudblood…
The scene violently shifted then. Draco could still feel the sting of the word bouncing around his skull as they stood in the dark lit castle, just before the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance of Gryffindor Tower. Two voices whispering heatedly back and forth.
I'm sorry.
I'm not interested.
I'm sorry.
Save your breath!
It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at Snape as he continued to apologize. She interrupted him harshly, reminding him that her friends don't even know why she talks to him, accusing him of wanting to become a Death Eater. He doesn't deny it.
Listen— I didn't mean—
—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?
They watched as Snape struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look Lily turned and climbed back through the portrait hole… It was then, watching this particular interaction, that it occurred to Draco why Snape might have wanted him to view these memories with Harry. The way she glared at Snape…
Believing yourself worthy of deserving the girl will only amount to your immense agony… She will never be yours, Draco.
She will return to Potter and when she does you will be openly rejected— If you care for her as much as I assume you do then I fear that when she does go to Potter, you will have to carry the weight of letting her go, placing her in harms way with no way to protect her because she will not allow you to—
Once she turns her back on you, that will be it— she will be out of your life forever and if she dies… it will haunt you until the end of your days…
Before he could dwell on that conversation for too long the corridor dissolved, and the next scene took a little longer to reform: Harry and Draco seemed to fly through the shifting shapes and colors until their surroundings solidified again and they stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The now adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for someone…
The fear seemed to be dripping off of him, his frantic state ebbing into Draco, causing him to feel equally as unsettled, though he knew no harm could be brought to them here— then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air, reminding him of lightening, but Snape didn't burn; instead he dropped to his knees and his wand was ripped from his hand.
Don't Kill me.
That was not my intention.
Seeing Dumbledore alive again sent a hot, sharp pain through Draco's veins. The old headmaster stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, his face illuminated from the below light cast by his wand.
Something deep inside Draco reminded him that understanding Dumbledore's involvement was their true purpose for viewing these memories.
Well Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?
No— No message— I'm here on my own account!
Snape was wringing his hands. He looked a little mad with his straggling black hair flying around him.
I—I come with a warning— no, a request— please—
Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though the leaves and branch still rumbled around them, silence fell upon the spot where he and Snape faced each other.
What request could a Death Eater make of me?
The— the prophecy… the prediction…
Ah, yes, How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?
Everything— everything I heard! That is why — it is for that reason— he thinks it means Lily Evans!
The prophecy did not refer to a woman, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?
I have— I have asked him—
You disgust me, said Dumbledore, and Draco was certain he had never seen the old man show so much contempt. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"
Snape said nothing at first, and merely looked up at Dumbledore, pleadingly.
Hide them all, then, he croaked. Keep her— them— safe. Please.
And what will you give me in return, Severus?
In— in return? Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Draco expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, Anything.
The hilltop faded from view, and Draco and Harry stood in Dumbledore's office. Something was making a terrible sound, like a wounded animal. Draco noticed then that it was coming from the slumped form of Snape in a chair as Dumbledore stood over him, looking grim. After a moment or two Snape raised his face, and he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery since leaving the wild hilltop.
I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe...
She and James put their faith in the wrong person, said Dumbledore. Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?
Snape's breathing was shallow.
Her boy survives, said Dumbledore.
With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly.
Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?
DONT! Bellowed Snape. Gone… dead…
Is this remorse, Severus?
I wish… I wish I were dead…
And what use would that be to anyone? Said Dumbledore coldly. If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.
Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore's words appeared to take a long time to reach him.
What— what do you mean?
You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son.
He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—
The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.
There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, Very well. Very well. But never— never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear… especially Potter's son… I want your word!
My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. If you insist…
The office dissolved but re-formed instantly. Snape was pacing up and down in front of Dumbledore.
—mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent—
You see what you expect to see, Severus. Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.
Dumbledore turned a page in the prophet within his grasp, and said, without looking up, Keep an eye on Quirell, won't you?
A whirl of color, and now everything darkened, and Snape and Dumbledore stood a little apart in the entrance hall, while the last stragglers from the Yule Ball passed them on their way to bed.
Well? murmured Dumbledore.
Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell. Snape looked sideways at Dumbledore's crooked nosed profile. Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns.
Does he? said Dumbledore softly, as two students came giggling in from the grounds. And are you tempted to join him?
No. said Snape, his black eyes on the students retreating figures. I am not such a coward.
No, agreed Dumbledore. You are a braver man by far than Igot Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon…
He walked away, leaving Snape looking stricken…
And now Harry and Draco stood in the headmaster's office yet again. It was nighttime, and Dumbledore sagged sideways in the throne like chair behind the desk, apparently semiconscious. His right hand dangled over the side, blackened and burned. Snape was muttering incantations, pointing his want at the wrist of the hand, while his left hand tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.
Snape demanded he tell him why he had put the ring on, knowing it carried a curse. Dumbledore's gaze flickered from his blackened hand to where Marvolo Gaunt's ring lay on the desk before him. He grimaced.
You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?
Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast. Snape hesitated, and then said, I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time.
Dumbledore smiled, the news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him.
I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus.
If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time! Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?
Something like that… I was delirious, no doubt… said Dumbledore. With an effort he straightened himself in his chair. Well, really, this makes matters much more straight forward.
Snape looked utterly perplexed. Dumbledore smiled.
Draco glanced over at Harry, but regretted it the moment Dumbledore spoke again, because he spoke of him...
I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me.
Draco felt the lump stick to the caverns of his throat, unable to be swallowed. He felt Harry's quick glance on the profile of his face, but found he couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes in that moment. They both understood now. Why he and Potter were meant to view these memories together.
Snape sat down in the chair across from the desk. Snape seemed to be holding back from continuing his discussion on the curse in Dumbledore's hand, and only scowled at the desk.
The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price.
In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have, said Dumbledore. But do you believe the boy capable?
The question seemed to catch Snape off guard as he considered it.
No, he answered eventually. Not of murder.
Dumbledore sat starring at Snape for a moment, nodding.
But you do believe him capable of doing what is necessary to protect his family.
Snape said nothing.
You seem to know the Malfoy boy more intimately than I was aware.
Snape said nothing. Dumbledore seemed to notice his discomfort, or unwillingness to confess to such observations.
I should have thought the natural successor to the job, if Draco fails, is yourself?
That, I think is the Dark Lord's plan.
Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?
He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes.
And if it does fall into his grasp, said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts? With Minnie at your side when the time presents itself?
Snape nodded stiffly.
Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you—
—much less since his father has lost favor. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position.
Draco stiffens hearing this; that may have been what he thought of Snape at one point, but it certainly wasn't now. The blame belonged to no one beside his father and himself for not deciding to act sooner. Draco felt the pang of guilt again, for not telling Snape this truth, if it even mattered to him. Draco thought it might. Hoped. That Snape might have considered what Draco thought of him and wished it to be better than spite.
All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done it we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath.
Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, Are you intending to let him kill you?
Certainly not. You must kill me.
There was a long silence, broken by an odd clicking noice, as Fawkes was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.
Would you like me to do it now? Asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?
Oh, not quite yet, said Dumbledore smiling. I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight, he indicated his withered hand, we can be sure it will happen within a year.
If you don't mind dying, said Snape roughly, why not let Draco do it?
That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. If you could, Severus, would you prevent it from being ripped apart on my account?
Snape was silent. Both Harry and Draco noticed his gaze fall as a unreadable expression settled across his pointed features.
A small knowing smirk tugged on the corner of Dumbledore's lips as he nodded, understand that, yes, Snape would prevent Draco from such suffering if he could. For Draco, the ability to breath escaped him.
I'm intrigued, Severus, you agree his soul is worth saving… Dumbledore leaned forward slightly— peering across at him behind his half-moon glasses with the same piercing blue eyes that caused most students to wonder just how much the old man knew about them— or are you recognizing Draco will be granted to accept what you were never offered yourself? Is it, perhaps, that you see protecting Draco a way to right past wrongs? I have always viewed repeating patterns throughout history as a clever trick played on us no doubt...
The office began to dissolve again, now they were standing in a small living area on Spinner's End. Draco felt his breath catch as his gaze fell upon the blurred image piecing together before him. Narcissa Malfoy was watching Snape with a tight expression.
So… Snape drawled. You have known all along…
I have known since the moment my son decided to take his fate in his own hands. Yes.
And you did not think to stop him?
Narcissa did not respond. Her gaze far away.
He cares for her. He has for years now without even being aware that he was suppressing those feelings all this time— disguising them as hatred, lying to even himself… I've seen it in his memories. Hermione Granger is laced within them all.
Draco tensed, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat that formed the moment Dumbledore appeared within the memory. He felt Harry frowning curiously at him, but refused to turn away from the sight of his mother, who was now smirking at Snape.
Interesting, isn't it Severus? My Pureblood son falling for a muggleborn. Perhaps history is attempting to right itself this time around…
His mother's form and Spinner's End dissolved as both Harry and Draco were thrown into a dark blur of images before settling in a room far too familiar for Draco. They were within Malfoy Manor, in his mother's parlor. Snape sat near the window. His mother's face was sitting before him.
There is a reason the Dark Lord has suspected that Dumbledore's wand does not respond to him as it should…. Albus Dumbledore is the previous owner and your son… it's true master.
Draco? Narcissa scanned Snape's expression in disbelief. But you killed him, not my son.
Moments before his death, Draco disarmed Dumbledore. There are only three winds alive aware of this truth: myself, your son, and Harry Potter.
Why are you telling me this? Am I meant to pity you? Or are you telling me because you intend to save yourself, forfeiting my son of you protection and pacing him in the Dark Lord's path in your stead?
She paused, considering her friend for a moment, her anger leveling into understanding. No... no, you wouldn't warm me if that were true. So is it pity then? Shall I weep for you? I fear you and I are both past deserving to be mourned Severus.
My intentions have little to do with fear of my death or what anyone chooses to do following it... I only wish to impart on you the meaning of the final line in the prophecy and ensure you that while the Dark Lord uses the very wand that only responds fully to your son, no permanent harm will come to him.
The wand is prevented from killing Draco? He can't harm my son? She repeated, the relief in her eyes filling her features and Snape nodded in confirmation. Well, and? What is it you've discovered of the prophecy?
It's not what I have discovered, but what you have shown me... though I'm certain you were unaware at the time.
I haven't got the patience for riddle's Severus.
The answer seen in her reflection... it was under my first attempt to sort out the 'her' that it was referencing to be Ms Granger. Though, after some consideration I understand now that it was not referring to Ms Granger, but you, Narcissa... The word reflection, I admit, caused for pause on several occasions, that was until your husband came to me begging that I convince you to see reason. He showed me a memory, a memory of the two of you and you know what was revealed to me? A painting... A very gruesome painting, flooded with death and war and ultimately... victory. The woman standing in front of the painting was you, the lifeless woman within the painting unable to stare back was also you... your reflection.
Snape pulled a vial from his robes and lifted his wand tapping it once and the blank canvas behind them sprung to life, images rapidly creating themselves portraying the scene he was describing. Narcissa turned to the image with fear laced in her chest as she watched the imagines dance before her.
Draco and Harry watched along with her, and Draco wondered if this what his mother had seen— why she felt her fate had already been written and unable to be altered…
Draco... Narcissa whispered as the painting revealed his pale blood hair, his skin covered in fresh scars and dried blood. Who is he searching for?
Allegiance of Power need be shifted. Snape repeated once more.
Harry Potter...
Just as Draco and Harry shared a glance the darkness of Malfoy Manor disappeared, and now Snape and Dumbledore were strolling together in the deserted castle grounds by twilight. Snape was asking him why he was spending so much time with Harry in the evenings.
I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it it too late.
Information, repeated Snape. You trust him… you do not trust me.
It is not a question of trust. I have, as we both know, limited time. It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do.
And why may I not have that same information?
I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, articulately not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort.
Which I do on your orders!
And you do it extremely well. Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you.
Yet you confide much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre, and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!
Voldemort fears that connection, said Dumbledore. Not so long ago he had one small taste of what truly sharing Harry's mind means to him. It was pain such as he has never experienced. He will not try to possess Harry again, I am sure of it. Not in that way.
I don't understand.
Lord Voldemort's soul, maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry's. Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame—
Souls? We were talking of minds!
In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other.
They were approaching the Forbidden Forest now, no sign of anyone near as Dumbledore lowered his voice to continue.
After you have killed me, Severus—
You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me! Snarled Snape, and real anger flared in his thin face now. You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!
You gave me your word, Severus. And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?
Snape looked beyond furious.
He rejects my help! He's stubborn— and— and far too brilliant for his own good. He's nearly discovered what it will take to have the cabinet issue resolved and I've known very few in my life time capable of such a task. Draco believes he does not need any assistance!
Careful, Severus, you are beginning to sound as if you may be growing to admire the boy as only a father could.
Snape said nothing.
Dumbledore sighed.
Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you…
The scene shifted and they were standing in Dumbledore's office, the windows dark, as Snape sat perfectly still and Dumbledore walked around him, talking.
Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?
But what must he do?
That is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time— after my death— do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to question the allegiance of his wand.
For his wand? Snape looked astonished.
Precisely. If all goes as planned and Draco is truly who you believe him to be. There will come a time when Lord Voldemort stops believing the wand can do his bidding, he will summon you to right this false appearance of error, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.
Dumbledore is holding the very snitch that contains the memories both Draco and Harry are currently in, eyeing the empty vial within.
Tell him what? Snape asked nervously, eyeing the snitch as Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemore's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.
Draco and Harry seemed to be listening to the two men through one end of a long tunnel, he sounded so far away from them, their voices echoing strangely in their ears.
So the boy… the boys must die? Asked Snape quite calmly.
And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.
Draco could feels Harry's posture go slack next to him as his own only tensed.
Another long silence. Then Snape said, I thought… all those yers… that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.
We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength, said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth. Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.
Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.
You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?
Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?
Lately, only those whom I could not save, said Snape. He stood up. You have used me.
Meaning?
I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter—
But this is touching, Severus, said Dumbledore seriously. Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?
For him? Shouted Snape. EXPECTO PATRONUM!
From the tip of his wand burst the silver dow. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were brimming with tears.
After all this time?
Always, said Snape.
And the scene shifted. Now, Harry and Draco saw Snape talking to the portrait of Dumbledore behind his desk. Telling him plans for the Order, suggesting that they use decoys. Polyjuice Potion. Identical Potters. Dumbledore's portrait telling Snape to try Confunding Mundungus Fletcher. Telling him if he is to be apart of the chase, to play his part. Snape does as he's told. Harry and Draco follow Snape as he moves through these actions until they are flying, Harry is directly alongside Snape on a broomstick through a clear dark night. They watched as Snape's Sectumsempra spell, intended for the Death Eater's wand hand, missed and his George instead—
Then Snape was kneeling in Sirius's old bedroom. Tears were dripping from the end of his hooked nose as he read an old letter from Lily. The second page carried only a few words: Lots of love, Lily—
Snape took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped a photograph in two, discarding the faces of a baby Harry and young looking James Potter holding him, to leave only Lily's laughing face.
Now, Snape stood again in the headmaster's study as Phineas Nigellus came hurrying into his portrait.
Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood—
Do not use that word!
—the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag! I head her!
Good. Very good. Cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmasters chair. Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor— and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him—
I know. Said Snape curtly. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.
And you still aren't going to tell me why its so important to give Potter this sword? Said Snape as he swung a traveling cloak over his robes.
No, I don't think so, said Dumbledore's portrait. He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap—
Snape turned towards the door.
Don't worry, Dumbledore. He said coolly. I have a plan.
Draco staggered backwards, gasping for breath and reaching out onto the railing behind him for support. His chest was rising and falling in rapid movements, but he felt completely detached from his body. As if everything that was just reveled to them had officially caused his consciousness to remove itself from his body, once and for all, no longer capable of bearing another moment. Across from him Harry was in a similar state, hunched over sightly, blinking numbly into nothing, his fingers still gripping the crates beneath the pensieve for support before stepping slightly backwards and sinking to the floor, slowly catching his breath.
Draco couldn't speak. He could hardly think as he stared openly at Harry Potter…
Harry Potter who had been foolishly hunting down pieces of the Dark Lord's soul at an old man's request only to find out that he himself was one of the remaining to destroy. Dumbledore had given the task of chipping away at Voldemort's soul to the one person who would benefit from dying to try and complete the task. It suddenly made sense to Draco, why it seemed Dumbledore favored him all these years, and Draco realized with a heavy heart that his envy was beyond misplaced. He did not envy Harry Potter as he slowly felt his limbs begin to work again, and he shuffled towards where the raven-haired wizard sat, his fingers trembling. Draco sat next to him. Neither of them saying a word for what felt like an eternity .
Draco's clouded mind registered somewhere that his role in this was much smaller than Harry's— that though his part mattered very little, it mattered still.
It was a very odd sensation... sitting there with Harry. He felt… confident— sure of himself, certain that the two of them had always been two sides of a similar destiny, taking different paths, but ultimately winding up here. With one short in hale of breath, a breath that felt like his first full breath in hours, he slowly shoved himself to his feet. He extended his hand down to Harry, waiting.
Harry lifted his gaze to Draco's and he seemed… surprisingly calm?
"They trusted us to end this." Draco said, hearing the roughness in his voice as he attempted to cover how utterly terrified he felt for admitting this truth.
Harry eventually placed his hand in Draco's, allowing him to guide him to his feet. They stared at one another for a moment, a brief, but deep understanding floating between them; an understandering that they both knew all the truths of what led them here: Snape had protected them both because of his love for Harry's mother. Dumbledore had used them both because of his plan to end Voldemort. And now… there was only one decision left to make.
Draco was making his now as he stepped back and began lifting his wand slightly before him, nodding for Harry to do the same.
Harry hesitated, eyeing the wand in his own grasp, eventually lifting his gaze to Draco's.
"You won't tell anyone. This stays between us." Harry said strictly.
Draco's brow pulled together, but he eventually nodded. He watched as Harry took a long inhale of breath and something in his expression flickered, something almost… conflicted.
"What should we tell them then?" Draco asked, "We can't exactly tell them nothing. We've been up here for at least an hour, maybe two."
Harry was quiet for a long moment. Draco waited. He was finding his patience around Potter was increasing lately. He blamed it on the misfortunate endeavor they just plunged through together.
"We can stick to the prophecy— that Snape and Dumbledore confirmed that I needed to disarm you. I don't know if we need to share Snape's story just yet. I'll let you decide if you want to after— well— when this is over."
Draco tried not to flinch at the underlaying message in that sentence— after I'm gone.
So Harry had made his decision too.
"Suppose it's your move then Potter."
Harry nodded, slowly lifting his wand towards Draco, and held it there for a moment before speaking.
"For what it's worth… I don't think the way Snape cared for my mother is the same way you care about Hermione."
Draco frowned.
"I just mean that… the way he cared for my mother, it was selfish— I'm not saying I don't appreciate that he did, of course I do— I just think— well, you're not him. And maybe the reason my mum and him didn't work out was because he never gave up the idea that only he deserved her, that only he could protect her… You and Hermione aren't like that. Hell, Malfoy, you don't even believe yourself capable of deserving her. That's the difference I think. But I think you already know that, so maybe eventually you could— deserve her that is— I guess what I'm saying is... just— fucking cherish her, yea? If not I swear I will fucking torment you by becoming a ghost and haunt you every day into the rest of your miserable life."
Draco, despite the utterly bizarreness of this situation, laughed.
Then Harry did to.
"Consider her cherished you insufferable git— Can you just disarm me already—"
The next thing Draco felt was his wand slipping from his grasp and he watched it lift into the air and land directly in Harry's hand.
Harry lifted it, rolled it around his fingers, examining it, before glancing at Draco expectantly.
"That's it then? Allegiance of Power shifted?"
Draco felt around his torso and arms. He didn't feel any different. He shrugged. "What the bloody hell do I know, Potter? I suppose we'll find out though, won't we?"
"Wonder why I'll need the wands allegiance if I'm meant to die…"
Draco couldn't hide his shoulders tensing at the casual tone in Harry's voice this time.
A small grin tugged on Harry's mouth, "Never thought I'd see the day where you were uncomfortable with the thought of me dying."
"You must have not been paying attention at the Manor. Wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of knowing I'd be the one who turned over the Boy Who Lived."
"Yea, suppose you've been on my side longer than I thought. Who knew?"
Draco only rolled his eyes, shoving past him to step down the few steps to the lower platform of the attic.
"Hey Draco."
Draco shifted slowly at hearing Harry use his first name.
"Yes, Potter…"
"Swear to me—" his voice broke slightly before he cleared his throat once more, "—swear to me that you won't tell Theo."
"Yea..." Draco simply nodded, trying not wonder why Harry mentioned Theo specifically, and not Hermione or the Weaslette. "Yea, Potter... you have my word."
Harry nodded, releasing a long breath.
"You go on… I just I need a minute."
Draco nodded and turned to leave Harry alone with the enormous weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders.
No amount of time could have been enough for Harry to gather himself after what he had just seen in Snape's memories, but Dumbledore had known he wouldn't run upon truths arrival. He knew he would keep going to the end, even though it was his end...
Because he had taken trouble to get to know him, hadn't he? Dumbledore knew, as Voldemort know, that Harry would not let do whatever he needed to not let anyone else die for him if he had the power to stop it.
But Dumbledore had overestimated him. There were still two horcruxes that remained. Both remained to bind Voldemort to the earth, even after Harry had been killed. True, that would make it easier for Hermione and Ron… maybe even Draco and Theo, if they decided to keep helping her to destroy the others. That was probably why Dumbledore hadn't minded him confiding in Ron and Hermione… so that if he fulfilled his true destiny a little early, they could carry on...
Truth tasted heavy and dense, like led on the tip of his tongue, or a slow dissolving pill, not entirely settled but lingering there, awaiting him to accept it, and swallow it whole. The thought: I must die. It must end.
This thought circulated numbly within his mind as he took the steps slowly, one by one…
*There was an extremely pleasing sound reaching him as he descended the stairs… a soft, but melancholic arrangement of piano keys that seemed to capture his every conflicting feeling into one perfect symbolic melody.
The sound drifted over him, getting slightly louder as he got closer to the bottom stairs that led to the large sitting room attached to the kitchen. Harry paused in the shadows of the staircase to listen to the tune— unsure if the tears began to form before or after the sound began to soothe the numbing in his racing mind.
He saw Theo then, and took in his effortlessness as he produced one of the most beautiful songs Harry thought he had ever heard— though that may have had more to do with the state he was in and the person creating it… He allowed himself this lingering moment of studying Theo play the piano… the sobering thought that this very well be the last time he ever watches Theo do anything so peaceful, so perfect…
"Theo truly wrote this himself?"
Harry was brought from his lingering sights on Theo as he heard Hermione's soft whisper just on the other side of the wall he was leaning on. He didn't move to join her, desperate to keep his gaze on Theo as long as possible without having to look away.
"Yea…" Harry heard Daphne answer, her voice just as low. "I've only heard him play it once before… the night Cedric died, in the Slytherin common room… they were pretty close towards the end I think."
Harry took another step down at hearing this.
"Cedric Diggory?"
"The very one." Daphne said in a tone that made it obvious to Harry that she was smiling a sad sort of smile. "Theo doesn't know I know this, but I saw them together a few times…"
"We both did." Pansy's voice added in a hushed whisper a bit further away.
"—Cedric pulling him into the prefects bathroom during forth year—" Daphne listed off as Pansy added, "—Cedric waiting for him in the dungeons to walk with him to breakfast—" Daphne laughed slightly before adding, "—Cedric baking him those little— what were they Pans?"
"Snickerdoodles?"
"Right," Daphne whispered back snapping once, "—snickerdoodles… which you know, Theo hates, because he abhors cinnamon, but still— it was sweet…"
Theo continued to play and Harry felt his entire face flush as he continued listening to both him and the rest of the conversation.
"Were they… together?" Hermione asked after a moment.
"I don't think so…" Pansy answered. "It wasn't like Theo was ever going to open up to either of us. I'm not certain Draco even knew… but Daphne approached Cedric about it, didn't you?"
"What did he say?" Hermione asked.
"His response was pretty vague actually…" Daphne said a bit softer and Harry could feel himself inching closer, keeping his eyes on Theo all the while. "He just told me that Theo had never been properly held before..."
Daphne paused before speaking again, her voice lowering. Harry slowly peeked around the wall to see Daphne whispering to Hermione then as they both watched Theo across the room.
"But Cedric saw people like that, you know? I think he thought Theo was hurting and he needed someone… I think he was helping Theo get over someone else, but Cedric never mentioned who…"Daphne cleared her throat, "…I don't think I will ever forget walking into the empty common room that night Cedric died… Theo was playing this song, it was so— haunting and beautiful and sad… I was already a mess, but when he noticed me walk in he continued playing while I wept into the morning… He didn't say a word to me the next morning. He only woke me so I could return to my bed before the other students started waking…"
Harry saw the look of hurt flash across Hermione's face, wondering if his face revealed the same.
"I don't think they were in love or anything— or at least I know Theo wasn't— he hardly allows anyone close enough to consider it a possibility, but… he might have cared for him... it's always difficult to tell with Theo." Daphne was saying as the piano slowly began fade into the end of the song. "…I just think Theo deserves someone to stay, you know? After everything with his family… He just deserves something good. He's not as horrible as Pansy will have you believe."
"I never said he was horr—"
Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was only staring, and as if Theo could sense his presence he lifted his gaze from the piano and found Harry tucked in the shadows of the stairs.
Theo deserves someone to stay…
Theo's mother left him, his brother torn from him, and if he had cared for Cedric, just to have him ripped away too...
Harry tore his eyes away from his, stepping from the stairs and quickly moving towards the living area where Remus was gathering everyone. He couldn't look at Theo anymore, knowing what he was about to do— what he had to do. He wanted to leave right then. Alone. He needed to go before he changed his mind—
Promise me? Just— whatever way this all ends— I need you to not die—
Theo's voice was as clear in his mind—
Then another—
So the boy… the boy must die?
"Harry? Are you alright?"
Harry glanced up, stopping short before knocking into Ginny. He steadied his breathing and nodded.
"Yea— fine. I'm— I'm fine."
Before she could respond a loud gripping howl cut through the air around them, followed by a pack of others off in the distance.
Harry's eyes fell on Remus' immediately, his gaze wide and full of fear.
"Greyback."
A/N: So...now... we're... finally... in the action... I know this chapter took forever, but life has been strange and it was my birthday yesterday... and yea, life is so strange right now... our world is strange... and this was the best I could do under the current state of my mental wellbeing... which is not entirely well, but intact nonetheless—
=]
* River Flows in You : Yiruma (the song I imagined Theo playing)