A/N I realized I haven't done a disclaimer yet, and since this chapter heavily overlaps DH, now is as good a time as any. I do not own Harry Potter. (I only wish I did.) Amelia is mine; everything else belongs to JKR.

Major spoilers for DH ahead. If you haven't read that, you probably shouldn't read this (as much as I want you to). Just so we are clear, this story follows the book, not the movies. (The book was better anyway!)

Please review! I love seeing your thoughts/reactions to my story. Thank you so much!

Screams echoed in the mist.

"What is that?" Sirius asked.

"I – I don't know," Amelia replied. A cold feeling was growing in the pit of her stomach: something bad was happening, something of enormous magnitude, something that wasn't a memory, something that was, instead, happening in the "real" world, on the other side of the Veil, the side they were trying to get back to. The only other time she had felt like this was when Dumbledore was murdered.

The sounds rippled across the grey landscape, fading in and out like a bad radio connection. Amelia tried to concentrate on the noises, tried to bring them into focus. There were voices, chaotic, overlapping voices, shouting mostly. Some of the voices seemed familiar . . . if Amelia could only focus on them . . . focus . . .

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU HARRY!" Ron's voice roared out of the mist.

"What?" Amelia exclaimed. She turned to meet Sirius' equally confusion expression. "Die for whom?"

Sirius just shook his head, looking bewildered. "No idea."

More indecipherable shouting and yelling, interspersed with crashes and bangs and screams.

"Sounds like a battlefield," Sirius remarked.

Amelia felt the cold expand abruptly, turning all her limbs to ice. Sirius caught her expression and the blood drained from his face. "No," he said, "it's not possible." He shook his head. "No – you can't really – a battle?"

Amelia felt stiff, an icy marble statue. "Harry has been in the middle of all of this since Cassandra Trelawney made that prophecy. And he's a Gryffindor, which means he goes charging into trouble. If it came to a battle, Harry and his friends would be right in the middle of it. And that – that does sound like a battle."

There was a loud explosion that reverberated through the mist, sending Amelia and Sirius reeling. Someone was screaming again. "No! Fred! No!"

The ice moved to her throat. It couldn't be Fred Weasley. It couldn't be.

The intermittent screaming continued

"HAGRID, NO! HAGRID, COME BACK!"

The curses flung between combatants echoed through like grey, just like the voices. Amelia wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried not to listen. Trapped in here, unable to do anything, forced to listen as people fought and died and she couldn't do anything –

Someone was shouting for Harry – and Harry was shouting to run – and then things got quiet, which was very unnerving after all the screaming and chaos.

Amelia strained her ears. There, at the edge, was a cold, high, indistinct voice. Then came a hissing. Amelia felt a dark foreboding come over her. She could hear a raspy, gurgling sound that she knew was someone fighting for breath – and losing.

"Look . . . at . . . me . . . " came the weak, almost familiar whisper. She knew the voice, but she couldn't place it. She'd heard too many voices distorted in the mist to place any one. This one, though, whoever this voice belonged to she knew was dead. She didn't know how or why, but this voice had died.

The high, cold, indistinct voice was back, followed by a piercing, horrible silence – and then the crying began. Somewhere, across the mist, people were wailing and shouting and sobbing and Amelia fell to her knees in the mist. All she could think about was how many people she had lost and how many she still could lose. Alastor, Remus, Tonks, Emmeline, the Weasleys . . . they were all in the Order and guaranteed to be on the front lines. What about her Mum? William? Sarah? Heather? How had they fared in the time she'd been stranded here?

Without warning the mist swirled around them.

The mist was still there, but now it seemed to be overlaid with – a park? There were shadows in the mist: trees and bushes and what appeared to be two children on swings. The voices were still indistinct but there were two girls, one was shrieking and one was giggling and Amelia thought she heard the name "Lily."

A boy's voice joined in.

". . . nothing wrong with that. My mum's one and I'm a wizard."

"Wizard!" the shrieking girl shrieked. "I know who you are! You're that Snape boy! They live down Spinner's End by the river."

Snape? How were they in Severus' memory?

The voices continued, gradually becoming more defined. Lily and Severus, discussing magic and Hogwarts and dementors. The third voice belonged to a "Tuney," who could only be Lily' older sister Petunia.

The mist swirled again, and now the scene was clearer, more familiar: Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, giving way to the Hogwarts Express. Petunia called Lily a freak, upsetting the young witch. Lily and Severus met James and Sirius, as Amelia had heard in the mist back in the beginning.

The landscape switched to the Great Hall and the Sorting. The scene changed before Amelia could hear her own name called.

Now Severus and Lily were in a courtyard at Hogwarts, arguing about their choices in friends. Severus insinuated Remus was a werewolf, for which Lily rebuked him. Lily called James a toerag again, before calling Severus' Slytherin friends evil.

The scene dissolved into that day on the lawn during OWLs week when James and Sirius ambushed Severus and the besieged, humiliated boy called his Gryffindor friend a Mudblood.

The scene dissolved again. With each memory, everything became sharper, clearer. Lily stood with her arms folded in front of a portrait of a plump woman and refused to accept her friend's apology.

This time when the scene dissolved it took longer to reform again. There seemed to be murky shapes in the mist – but then it became a cold, dark hilltop, the leafless trees rustling in the wind. Amelia spotted Severus, anxious and fearful, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. And – was there someone else? In the shadows?

There was a blinding jet of white light like lightning and Severus dropped to his knees, his wand gone from his hand.

"Don't kill me!"

"That was not my intention."

Dumbledore stood over Severus, his robes whipping in the wind, his face lit uncannily by his wand. "Well, Severus? What message does lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No – no message – I'm here on my own account!"

Amelia listened in shock as Severus spoke of the prophecy, of Voldemort's intentions for the Potters. Dumbledore was colder and harsher than she had ever seen him before, but Severus persisted. "Hide them all, then," the desperate Death Eater croaked. "Keep her – them – safe. Please."

Amelia stood transfixed as Severus promised to do anything to protect Lily – and by extension James and Harry.

But – this – that doesn't make any sense –

Didn't it?

The stream of memories continued. Severus, in Dumbledore's office, looking empty and tortured as he and the Headmaster discussed Lily's death.

"Her boy survives," Dumbledore said. Severus' head jerked. "Her son lives," Dumbledore continued. "He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans' eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" Severus bellowed in pain. "Gone . . . dead . . . "

"Is this remorse Severus?"

"I wish . . . I wish I were dead . . . "

Amelia heard a sharp intake of breath, reminding her of her companion. She glanced over at Sirius who was watching with wide, astonished eyes.

Dumbledore asked Severus to protect Lily's son. Not Harry Potter. Lily's son. A lump was rising in Amelia throat.

"Very well," Severus finally agreed. "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 asked with a sigh, looking down on the anguished man. Amelia felt a tear roll down her cheek. "If you insist . . . "

The mist continued to reform as more tears fell, dripping off her chin. Severus and Dumbledore were talking, discussing Harry and Quirrell and Karkaroff, but Amelia wasn't listening because she knew. She knew that Severus Snape was dead.

The mists reformed again on Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat at his desk, his right hand burned and blackened. Severus did his best to call the silver-haired wizard an idiot without actually saying that word. Amelia listened as the Potions Master informed Dumbledore that he only had a year to live – and Dumbledore didn't seem to care.

"Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward. I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me."

Amelia was locked in place, too much in shock to be able to even think of moving as she listened to the calm discussion of Voldemort's plans.

"Are you intending to let him kill you?" Severus asked with raised eyebrows.

"Certainly not," Dumbledore replied. "You must kill me."

The world dropped from beneath Amelia's feet. There was a buzzing in her ears and their voices seemed to come from a great distance away.

"If you don't mind dying, why not let Draco do it?"

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

The mist was in her head again, making everything distant and blurry and unreal. She couldn't focus. Everything was coming too fast.

"I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly 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 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!"

This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be hearing this.

"After you have killed me, Severus – "

"You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me! You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

"You gave me your word, Severus."

Amelia could hardly see through her tears as everything crumbled. But the memories weren't finished and the worst was still to come.

"So the boy . . . the boy must die?"

"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus."

The buzzing reached a new level and she almost missed it. The silver doe. Lily. Lily was Severus's patronus. Oh, Circe –

"After all this time?"

"Always."

Amelia gasped and the tears rolled faster.

Severus was talking to a portrait of Dumbledore now. The words penetrated her haze though she fought them. These words weren't as painful. Moving Harry from the Dursleys. Decoys. Mundungus Fletcher. Polyjuice Potion.

Broomsticks on a clear, dark night. Death Eaters flew after Remus and Harry. Was it really Harry? No, it couldn't be. The Order would never pair Harry with Remus as his only protector. It had to be a Polyjuice Harry. A Death Eater raised a wand toward Remus – Severus' spell went awry, hitting the side of Harry's head instead of the Death Eater's hand.

Severus was crying in – Grimmauld Place? Amelia didn't think she had ever seen Severus cry before. He was crying over a picture of the Potters, which he ripped in two, keeping the half with Lily's laughing smile.

Dumbledore's office again. Only now it was – Severus' office? Phineas Nigellus called him "Headmaster." How had Dumbledore been replaced by the one who killed him?

Severus removed a sword from where it had been hidden behind Dumbledore's portrait. Why did it need to be given to Harry? And why were Harry and Hermione – and presumably Ron – in the Forest of Dean? How much time had passed? Had they graduated Hogwarts already?

". . . they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap – " the portrait cautioned the former Potions Master.

What mishap? Had George been the Polyjuice Harry with Remus on the broom?

Severus walked to the door – and Amelia saw, for an instant, someone else in the room. There was Severus, in his memory; Sirius and herself through the Veil; and bridging the gap – Harry. He did not seem to have grown much, but his face – he had aged. There was a blank expression, but it could not disguise the haunted pain in his eyes. The boy knew he would have to die. How many had he seen die in the battle? Had he seen Severus' death? How could he have Severus' memories in a Pensieve?

Amelia forced her shaky legs to move. She looked into Harry's eyes. The boy didn't see her, but she saw – she saw –

A snake in a floating bubble attacked Severus. As he fell, a cold, high voice said, "I regret it," without a trace of emotion for its iciness. Harry crept up to the dying man, hands feebly pressed to the gaping wounds in his throat. That terrible rasping, gurgling.

"Take . . . it . . . take . . . it . . . "

A silvery blue substance gushed from his eyes, his mouth, his nose – and there was Hermione conjuring a flask for Harry to store Severus' memories.

"Look . . . at . . . me . . . " Severus whispered. And as he looked into Harry's eyes – Lily's eyes – a peace came over the former Death Eater – and Amelia watched the last flicker of life leave him.

The memory jumped further back – she saw the Great Hall. The Weasleys crowded around a body, Molly across the chest, Arthur stroking his wife's hair as he cried, one of the twins kneeling by the head of his brother. The living twin was missing an ear – George. It had been Fred Weasley, then. Percy was there. He had reconciled with his family? Bill stood near him, beside the Beauxbatons girl from the Triwizard Tournament. The cluster of people shifted, revealing two more bodies, pale and still beneath the enchanted sky –

Amelia pulled away, unable to witness anymore.

Harry left the Pensieve and the mist lost its shape, the greyness spilling over them.