Draco Malfoy had always been the curious type. So when he found a silvery, glowing basin on his professor's desk in the middle of a seemingly abandoned dungeon classroom, he had to investigate. The swirling substance was probably some form of potion, but as he stared into it, it swirled like nothing he had ever seen. The closer he looked, the more he could swear he was looking into a different lifetime. He leaned closer still, suddenly flung into the Slytherin common room. But he couldn't be there. He had just been in the Potions classroom, hadn't he?

The dungeons looked different, kind of like they had in some of the old pictures his father had taken in his Hogwarts days. A young man with dark hair and a distinctive nose sat buried in a book. A girl with red hair was on the opposite side of the sofa, also buried in a book. Not too different from the Slytherin common room most of the time, especially when a big exam was coming up. But something was off. She wore Ravenclaw robes, and Ravenclaws weren't allowed in the Slytherin dungeons. If something was really wrong, a professor from another house might come in if they were searching for Professor Snape, but students from other houses weren't allowed in.

"Oi, there's the Pureblood Princess. Good to see you again, sweetheart." Someone else Draco didn't recognize appeared from the hall, attracting the attention of the two students sitting on the sofa.

"Don't call her that, Rosier." The dark-haired boy set his book down, he and the girl exchanging a pointed look.

Rosier? Rosier was dead. Rosier had been killed years ago, before he, Draco, had been born. He was just one of the old friends his father always told stories about. Rosier knelt down next to the girl, saying, "He fancies you, you know. Won't shut up about you when you're not around." Before the dark-haired boy could respond, Rosier disappeared, headed for his room.

Suddenly Draco found himself in a clearing. He assumed it was the boy standing next to him in Death Eater robes. The Dark Lord had his arm in a vice grip as he uttered the curse. He swept on to the next of them, all of the soon-to-be Death Eaters watching the young man sink to the ground and praying that they wouldn't be in that much pain.

It felt like a scalding cauldron burn, but much worse, much deeper. He could feel the curse searing into his bones, forever branding the image on his arm. It was a pain Draco was familiar with by now. The young man wanted to scream, to stop it, he would've done anything but if this was what it meant to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord, he would endure it. "Langlock," he muttered through gritted teeth, silencing the scream that was building in the back of his throat as the Dark Lord moved on to the next of them.

"You're really brave, Sev." Somehow Draco could hear what was going on in the young man's head. He could see the girl pulling him into an empty classroom, wrapping her arms around him even though they were both soaked in water from the Black Lake. The two of them had been lazing on the grounds, vaguely trying to study when two boys had hexed him from around the tree. She had been distracted, a few trees away talking to some girls in Gryffindor robes when it happened. He'd reached for his wand, hexing them as they levitated his books and dropped them in the lake. But the scrappy kid from Cokeworth knew more than that. One of the Gryffindor boys got a little too close, a well-timed punch landing in his eye. All wands were forgotten until the girls dashed over. One of the Gryffindor girls had the sense to try to freeze them all, but she only managed to hit a nervous Gryffindor who'd run over to join in. So she grabbed the boys, and the girl he'd seen before grabbed the young man, dragging the group apart.

Together they had fished his books from the lake, taking everything inside the castle as the Gryffindors began to talk, the girls raising their voices. "Sorry," the young man sighed as she let go, gesturing to both of them now covered in lake water.

"It's fine, Sev. It was two - and then three - against one, and I'm pretty sure Sirius is going to have a pretty nasty black eye." The two of them started spreading books out on desks, drying everything off as best they could. "'Property of the Half-Blood Prince'," she read, scanning his copy of Advanced Potion Making.

He shook his head, his eyes still glued to his History of Magic textbook. "It's dumb, I know."

"It's not dumb, I think it's fun," she smiled. "It makes all of your notes sound even cooler."

As he sat there, crumpled to the ground in pain, it was all he could think of. The way she'd called him brave, not a note of hesitation in her voice. The look of triumph on her face when they walked into the Great Hall for dinner and found that one of the Gryffindor boys - Sirius, Draco assumed (Sirius Black? The escaped murderer?) - was indeed sporting a black eye. How she'd kept him company as they dried out his textbooks, making sure none of the ink bled out of the pages with a couple of well-timed spells. It seemed like another lifetime. They'd been so young back then, though it was only a few years ago. Their biggest worries were so small compared to what stood in front of him. But now he was finally part of the Dark Lord's inner circle, and for that, he was grateful. As the pain ebbed, though, he had to admit that he missed how things had been.

Draco felt it too, the longing for a past he'd had - the fun times out in Hogsmeade and on the grounds with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Times when his biggest problems were History of Magic exams, Quidditch matches, and dealing with Potter. He understood the young man's longing for the old days, when things were much easier. Sev. She had called him Sev. There was only one man he knew with a name anything similar to "Sev." No... It couldn't be...

The scene shifted and Draco found himself in the Slytherin common room again, the room now suddenly full of people. It was a Slytherin party like no other. Dozens of people surrounded him, but he didn't recognize any of them. Until he looked closer. Some of them looked slightly familiar, like younger versions of people his parents invited over all of the time. But they couldn't be. Could they? Wait, was that Crabbe's dad?

He turned to look at the people next to him, wondering if he knew them too. The dark-haired boy was back. He held a glass of firewhiskey, refilling it with his wand as he talked to the girl, also a few years older than she'd been when he thought of her while he was being branded with the Dark Mark. "You don't have to go. You could come with me. Run. Get a job in London. Anything but… him."

"I can't. You know I can't." As soon as he spoke, Draco recognized the voice. It had taken him a little while to associate the two, but he knew that voice. And if his name was Sev... It was a voice he'd heard since he was a baby, one of the people his parents trusted the most. His godfather, the man who had been around his entire life.

"Professor?" He tried to get his attention, but it wasn't working. No one could see him. No one could hear him. He was stuck there, no matter what he tried. "Professor?"

But Snape didn't look at him. Instead he reached out, pulling the girl into a kiss. Draco was forced to stand there and watch, listening to the snippets of conversation every time they broke apart. "Please, Sev. There's still time. Unless… You haven't killed anyone for him yet, have you?"

The concern in her voice was genuine, but his response was equally as sincere. "No. But I can't turn back now. The Dark Lord would kill me."

"I start Auror training next week." There was a significant pause, Draco staring into the party as he desperately tried not to see the two of them. He was used to seeing things like this at parties, but his Head of House... that was a different story entirely. "I guess this is the last…"

"It has to be," Snape answered, though something in his voice suggested that he desperately didn't want this to be their final goodbye. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

Suddenly the lights got brighter. It was a scene he recognized this time, the Yule Ball from a couple of years ago. He could see himself off in the distance, talking to Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson. But now he was standing by the professors. Professor Ashmore had laid her head on Snape's shoulder, holding his hand as they watched their students spin around on the dance floor. "You have a leaf in your hair," Snape mumbled, trying to suppress a smile.

"It's your fault," she laughed, standing up properly so she could fix her hair.

"And I will need my cloak back at some point."

"Well I'm still cold," she teased, spinning him around as Dumbledore came by with a camera. "Look, smile!"

The song ended, the memory swirling into another one. Draco immediately felt uneasy. He could see very little in the firelight, but he could already tell that he wasn't supposed to. He wasn't supposed to be here, but he really wasn't supposed to be here. It was a room he didn't recognize, but from all of the black and green and silver he assumed they were Snape's rooms, and from what he could hear, he was almost certainly right.

The two people he could see were only shadows, and he was thankful. In abject horror that he was stuck in a memory he couldn't escape, he watched as his favorite professor - his godfather, his favorite pseudo-uncle, the family friend who he'd seen at Malfoy Manor throughout his entire childhood - snogged another one of his professors. A little more intensely than he'd seen at the party. "Sev, do you want to…"

"Bed?" he asked in a voice Draco had never heard before and never wanted to hear again.

"Yeah," she mumbled, hastily undoing the buttons on his shirt. "This alright?"

"Yeah."

Draco shut his eyes and plugged his ears, trying to tune them out. I am not watching this. Get me out of here. Merlin, get me out of here. Please. It seemed like that was all it took. Suddenly the room was full of sunlight, or at least the artificial sunlight Snape had conjured up so all of Slytherin House wasn't stuck in the low light that streamed through part of the lake. This memory was a much more mild one, Draco daring to open his eyes and take his fingers out of his ears. Professor Ashmore and Snape were just starting to stir. Snape, it seemed, had been awake for a little while. "Good morning," he smiled, giving her a kiss.

"'Morning," she yawned, propping herself up on her elbow. She stared at him for a moment, scrutinizing the dark eyes that seemed to be hiding something. "Sev?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too. But that doesn't seem to be what's on your mind."

"Oh Sev, you know I'm always thinking about how much I love you," she laughed, sitting up so she could wrap her arms around him. "Seriously, though, what's on my mind is what's on yours. You look like you've been up worrying about something for a little while."

He sighed, admitting that, "I had another one of those dreams."

Clearly she knew what that meant, because she kissed him and sighed. "I'm sorry, Sev. I wish… I know too many Potions for Dreamless Sleep are bad for you, but I wish there was something I could do. You haven't had one decent night of sleep this week."

"Having you here certainly helps," he said, turning to kiss her again. Was this how they started all of their mornings? It was almost sickeningly sweet, especially for someone like Snape. Maybe this was why he was usually in a decent mood when they had Potions right after breakfast. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Sev..."

"It's true. And you know it."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, saying, "You know, Dumbledore was right."

"About what?"

"A couple of things. First… well apparently he'd been betting on us since we were in school. And second, that I am so incredibly in love with you."

"I think you've seen quite enough, Mr. Malfoy." He turned, shocked to see Professor Ashmore right next to him. Seconds later, they were back in the Potions classroom.

"Professor, I - I'm so sorry. I didn't - I was looking for Professor Snape and - I swear I didn't see anything. I shut my eyes and plugged my ears and I am so sorry," he stammered, Hazel watching him calmly. "I promise I didn't -"

She let him stutter for a few more seconds before cutting him off. "It's understandable. I was even more curious at your age than you are now. But I would be careful poking around and investigating things you don't know much about. Not all of them are as innocuous as memories."

"What is that thing?"

"It's called a Penseive," she explained, swirling the silvery memories with her wand. "Sometimes, when you've got a lot on your mind, or when you have things that you'd rather other people not see, you take them out and store them in one of these."

"Things you don't want other people to see?" he repeated, still staring into the glimmering silver pool.

"Yes. There are some memories you'd rather not have other people going through. Especially not when they are experts at it," she said, catching his eye. A rush of understanding hit him as she kept talking. "So you hide them, until you get back to where it is safe to carry them around in your own head again. Even the best Occlumens in the world can trip up at times, so it's better not to have the memories there at all."

Though he had connected the dots, he still had questions. "Why would he want to hide those? It's not like the Dark Lord - it's not like you're a Mudblood. You're from one of the best Pureblood families in Britain. Pansy looked you up," he explained as if it wasn't his idea the moment he'd seen her talking to Professor Snape a little more than the other professors did.

Hazel leaned on the table, telling him, "A long time ago, before you were born, Voldemort would do things to make people prove their loyalty to him. He would have them kill Muggleborns, torture Muggles, but he also had some of his followers torture and kill members of their own families. He would make them choose a child to kill, or tell them to kill their spouses or use the Cruciatus Curse on them… it was all a test of loyalty, to see how far they could bring themselves to go for him. Plenty of people did it. Plenty refused. When they refused, he would torture them both. If that wasn't bad enough, the ones who did it… you have to mean them, the Unforgivables. The Killing Curse and the Cruciatus Curse won't work if there's not enough hatred behind them. So the ones who did it, their loved ones had to go through that knowing…" she sighed, saying, "That's why Professor Snape does it. He's afraid that even though Voldemort trusts him completely, he might get asked to do something like that. So the more Voldemort doesn't know, the better."

Draco was uncharacteristically quiet, wondering if his parents had ever been forced to torture each other to prove their loyalty to the Dark Lord. "You and Professor Snape…"

"We've known each other since we were in school," Hazel explained, knowing that he had seen quite a lot. "We were friends, but we went our separate ways. He joined the Death Eaters and I became an Auror. But we never quite let go of each other. We couldn't. When I came back here, I realized what I had… what I had given up. How things could have gone. I'm glad I came back. And I'm glad Sev didn't hate me after everything I did with the Aurors. It's taken a little while, but here we are."

He started to pace around the room, still thinking about how the Dark Lord had forced even his most trusted to prove their worth to him. Was that what he was being asked to do? Was this his version of having to torture his family? "You love him… even though he's killed people?"

She knew where he was going with this. She knew - Sev had told her - that Draco had his doubts about what he had been tasked with. It was something monumental, he had told her, something she couldn't know about just yet for her own good. But both of them, Sev and Draco, had been worrying about it incessantly. "Yes. He makes me forget about the rest of the world, for a little while at least. Even when there's too much to worry about, it helps to know you're not alone. He's done bad things. But he tries to do the right thing when he can. I've killed people too. Death Eater or Auror, it's just as bad. But Sev, well, he understands, and -"

Snape had suddenly appeared in the door, looking like he'd practically flown down the stairs. The tension dropped from his shoulders when he saw Hazel there, ensuring the basin was undisturbed. "Good evening, Malfoy." He came to a stop in front of Hazel, giving her a kiss on the cheek without knowing that Draco had unwittingly seen a whole lot more.

"Mr. Malfoy has been looking for you," she told him as he started replacing memories from the Pensieve back into his own mind. "I'm going to head over to the library. Madam Pince says she has some new books that I might want to take a look at before she bothers shelving them. I'll see you later, okay?"

"See you later."

"And Malfoy, remember what I said. It's going to be alright." Hazel left the two of them to talk, heading for the library and thinking of how much had changed over the last three years. Three years. Wow.