It was the darkest hour of the night and the castle was still. Fires burned low and all were deep in peaceful slumber. All save one.
Severus Snape sat at his desk in his dungeon office, his dark form unmoving. A heavy head rested on steepled fingers as he stared unseeing into the Pensive before him. Its flickering silver light played on his harsh features, reflecting in emotionless black pools. The silver substance, his memories, swirled around endlessly. Watching them, he wished he could forget them all.
Stiffening, the professor watched as flashes of his dark past came to him. His parents, red faced, screaming at one another across the table; James Potter, taunting and mocking him mercilessly; a tattoo, that horrible skull with a snake slithering from its mouth, being magically branded into his skin; a house, now a smoking ruin... Severus blinked, halting the tide of memories. He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes slowly. Why did such things come unbidden?
Rising, he moved slowly to a long mirror and braved a look. His clothes were rumpled, his hair a mess. Dark rings showed under his eyes. He wondered if they ever left his face; sleep no longer came easily, even with a potion. Tilting his head slightly, Snape cast one side into darkness while the other remained lit by a lamp on his right. He grimaced, the closest approximation of a smile that he could manage these days, at the irony of it. One side light, the other dark. He whispered a charm and waved his wand at the lamp. It went out, throwing his entire face into shadow.
An hour before dawn, Severus awoke with a start. He was still in his office, siting in a chair by the cold fireplace. Shivering briefly, he lit the wood with a flick of his wand and watched the flames rise.
As he closed his eyes for a moment, another memory stirred. Suddenly he was in another dungeon, one even less hospitable than the ones in Hogwarts. Snape found he held his wand trained on a captive. His own mouth snarled the incantation 'Crucio!' to begin torturing him. Screams came from the person on the floor, and the man writhed in agony. The yells of pain continued to echo in his ears even after he opened his eyes.
Shaking, Severus shot a murderous glare at the Pensive, still sitting on his desk. What was it doing to him? He remembered the dream that had woken him; it had been not unlike this 'vision.' What was it trying to do, make him relive his worst memories? He frowned. If that was the Pensive's aim, it was succeeding. He glared in its direction some more, clearly shaken.
"Jelly Slugs," intoned Severus, sneering at the password. Why Albus insisted on the names of candy he had no idea... The gargoyle jumped aside and he swept quickly by up to the Headmaster's office, a bundle under his left arm. At the door he knocked impatiently and, after hearing a soft 'Come in!' from inside, entered.
Dumbledore sat serenely at his desk among his many silver contraptions, staring intently at something only he could see. Snape crossed the distance from the door to the desk in a matter of seconds and stood stiffly, waiting. After a minute of silence, the old wizard was still lost in thought. The professor cleared his throat in an attempt to attract attention to his presence in the room; Dumbledore blinked and slowly turned his head to observe him with bright blue eyes.
"Ah Severus," he said. It would have seemed he was surprised to see his friend standing there if it not had been for the laughter in his eyes. "I see you have brought me something...?"
At this the younger man nodded sharply and in one motion held out the bundle, whipping off the black cloth. He set the item on Dumbledore's desk, who looked at it and then at Professor Snape questioningly. It was the Pensive.
"May I ask why you are returning this so soon? I understand you are still instructing Harry in Occlumency. I thought the purpose of my lending it to you was to ensure your privacy." The Headmaster looked over his half-moon glasses at the Potions Professor, his eyes peering into Severus' own.
Snape ran his hands though his black hair, his eyes shifting unconsciously to a painting behind the man staring so forcefully at him. He gulped involuntarily. "I— I cannot sleep."
Dumbledore arched an eyebrow at this, but said nothing. He waited for Severus to continue, watching the obvious signs of distress he usually did not see coming from such a composed person. It was very rare that the Potions Master and Order member showed his emotions, though the old man could usual tell anyway. Still, he found it surprising.
"Has the Pensive ever done anything, anything other than hold memories?" Severus asked, avoiding the unspoken question. His eyes continued to dart around the room, as if seeking the answer from it and not the man sitting at the desk. "I only ask, Albus, because of things I have been... seeing, of late."
"Such as...?"
"Memories. Memories I would rather forget, though it seems this Pensive has other ideas." Snape's voice was wrought with a sharp, bitter edge and he scowled darkly, regaining some of his lost demeanor. Suddenly he was the cruel hook-nosed Professor, ready to sneer and dole out snide comments at the slightest provocation. His mask was back in place, fueled by the anger at the Pensive and his fear of what it might show him next.
Dumbledore noted the abrupt change. The nervousness portrayed in Severus' odd behavior had disappeared to be replaced by the façade the Headmaster was so used to seeing. It was almost a relief to see him acting more like his normal self, more in control, despite how dark and angry he seemed.
"What memories?" he asked gently, yet firmly. "What have you been seeing?"
Snape leaned forward, his head in his hands, black tangles of hair concealing his face. "I see all that I wish to forget, to leave behind." His voice shook slightly, belaying fear. "The Dark Mark, hovering above smoldering houses, burnt bodies lying in the wreckage. Faces of witches and wizards, all marred, all empty of feeling, their eyes nothing but shuttered orbs of color, as they are tortured." He took a shaking breath, pausing. "Men, writhing on the floor of dungeons under the Crutacious Curse." Severus lifted his head to look into Dumbledore's eyes, his own full of pain and suffering, the cruel disguise gone once again. "My hand, my wand—" his voice broke, but he struggled to continue. "I am the one behind it all, all the destruction and death. Some are memories, real things I have done in the past, others just visions of what I might have..."
"Severus—"
"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE DONE!" Fury took hold of him, fury at the fact that Albus Dumbledore could never know the horror, the horror of knowing you had committed such crimes. Fury at his helplessness, something he scorned in others. Then, as quickly as it had come, the anger faded, leaving him empty. He was surprised at his outburst, even though the older man was not. He sat down, briefly wondering when he had jumped to his feet. Much more quietly he said, "I cannot live with this, Albus, the knowledge of these deeds of mine is slowly consuming me. No matter what I do I cannot redeem myself. The say that time heals. Hah!" He laughed, a harsh, bark-like laugh that held no joy or happiness. "Each day makes the realization worse and worse. My past haunts me, spreads throughout me like the intoxication of a deadly poison..." The Professor trailed off, his head back in his hands, no longer able to look at the person who had forgiven him for these same crimes that tortured him so.
Albus Dumbledore stared sadly at the man before him, wishing he could lift some of the burdens from his thin, hunched shoulders. Some time passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe ten. The only sounds were the quiet movement of the former Headmasters and Headmistresses in their pictures on the walls and the faint whirrings and clickings of the silver instruments that cluttered the office. When he felt it was the right time to speak, he cleared his throat, and stared at Snape with an intensified gaze.
"I know that most likely there is nothing I can do to ease your pain, Severus. But I do hope you realize that firstly you regret your decision to join the ranks of the Death Eaters, which means you are well on your way to redemption for any past actions. Also, the fact you came to me, offered your services, and have so faithfully helped me as a member of the Order and as a friend, more than outweighs any earlier decisions in my eyes." Snape raised his head to look into those blue eyes. There was no longer a haunted glaze to his own coal- black ones, Dumbledore noticed. He hoped fervently that his words brought his friend some peace. "Everyone makes mistakes, but only those who can begin to live with them can learn from them." Severus looked once again at the floor.
"... Now, about this Pensive. I want you to keep teaching Harry Occlumency, but I expect you want to retain some privacy, so it is obvious you must continue to use this." He paused, his eyes twinkling, which the troubled Professor found odd. "I trust you have tried Occluding your mind? If not, that is what I would suggest."
Snape nearly dropped his jaw at the simplicity. Of all the things! He was teaching it to Potter, or at least trying to get something to penetrate that thick skull of his, so how come it hadn't occurred to him? To hide his embarrassment he scoffed at the idea. "I doubt it will work, but I will try."
Hiding a smile, the Headmaster nodded. "If it doesn't work, don't hesitate to come to me again."
"That will not be necessary, as I would not want to trouble you." Severus stood stiffly, as if realizing how much of his true feelings he had shown. "I have classes to prepare for."
"Of course."
A/N Well, please review! Any comments would be welcome, just no flames please. If you don't like it, tell me why and maybe how I can improve.
I'm not very happy with the beginning paragraph... Any suggestions? I may update this later with a better introduction, one that sets the scene better after I've had some inspiration...
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful and 'bloody brilliant' world of Harry Potter, including all characters and places. :( They belong to some very rich people at Warner Brothers and J. K. Rowling herself. I write fanfiction for fun. No profit involved. In case I have forgotten to mention this in any other fanfics, the same applies to them aswell, whatever the story.