"You were a student?" Harry's eyes went wide, trying to force the image of the bat-like man snogging a young girl in uniform down in the dark dungeons from entering his mind.

Katherine nodded slowly, smiling as she recalled the memories she held so close to her heart. She kept her eyes on her husband. In his eternal slumber, Snape looked peaceful. Pleasant, almost. A simple serenity that relaxed his face and made it looked as if he were in fact sleeping. "I was a seventh year. I was 18, a little older than everyone in my class. I have a September birthday," she explained, "He was 22, his second year of teaching here. I was in his rivaling House; Gryffindor. Like you and your friends. We loathed one another," she laughed softly, Harry smiling, "So many memories," she whispered.

"I am so sorry," Harry said, unsure of how many times he had repeated that simple phrase.

"He wasn't awful," Katherine said, turning towards Harry. Her eyes bore into his; wet brown into clear green. She spoke with a strange accent; a mixture of strong Irish dialect, but a hint of the American accents Harry remembered hearing on Dudley's television set. "I know what you kids thought of him. And I know what he has done. My husband," she paused, chewing her lip, "He made his choices. He made his mistakes, but he was a good man. He was kind and loving and full of life. He did what he did to protect us; you, your mum, me. He was a good man. Yes, he was strict. He was harsh. But he wasn't awful." Her voice wavered, rivulets streaming down her round cheeks.

"You didn't see him for who he was. You only saw him as a fighter; a strategist, an agent, a soldier. As a professor. I saw the true Severus. I saw the friend, the husband. The husband who loved me unconditionally; who went to great lengths to ensure our happiness and security. Who, even though his sense of rhythm was nonexistent, danced with me in the library. He was so kind. So selfless. You never saw the friend he was to your mother. Even when she didn't return his friendship,"

Katherine rose her wand to her temple, Harry watching as she drew the long silver thread of memories from her, taking a goblet from the table her husband rested on, and tapping it into the cup. "And now," she said, holding it out to Harry, "You will know Severus, for who he was."

Harry looked at the woman, her eyes pleading him to take the goblet from her hand. She smiled weakly, almost as if to beg him. In the candlelight of the Hall, her wedding band glimmered brilliantly. A simple, yet beautifully intricate silver band, its vintage design hinting that it may have belonged to Severus's mother before she so elegantly wore it upon her slender finger. He wondered as to how he presented her with it. Did he ask on the grounds? Or somewhere intimate; somewhere that held importance to them? His mind swam with questions.

And so, he took the goblet.

Katherine nodded, smiling at him. He returned the smile, promptly moving from her side. Katherine returned her attention to her husband, this time staring at the wicked gash upon his throat.

Her stomach churned and throat knotted."Oh god," she cried out, throwing herself over his body and knotting her hands into his robes. Minerva returned to her side, rubbing her back as the woman sobbed over her lost love.

The cloudy substance of the Pensieve welcomed Harry for the second time in the short period, Katherine's memories swirling in the shallow basin. He took a deep breath, recalling on the archived thoughts of Snape and the absence of his wife from them.

He wanted me to understand, Harry thought, why he did all this. Not to share his family life with me.

But he thought to what Katherine had said to him. Of Severus and his friendship to his mother. He owed this to him, to understand who Severus Snape really was, and to share his story with others.

And with that, Harry delved into the Pensieve.

The fall of 1982 was unusually warm. The late September days were filled with sunshine, leaving students to roll their shirt sleeves and to spend their weekends and free periods on the castle grounds, spread out on blankets with textbooks and friends, studying and chatting.

But the nights remained blazingly hot, not even the cool dungeons were safe from the steamy temperatures. Severus had left his bed sheets in a heap on the floor of his bedchamber, thrown off of his bed in annoyance as he couldn't escape the sweltering heat himself. Determining he wouldn't find refuge, he had set off through the empty midnight halls of the school, hoping to find peace from the restless night. And the Astronomy Tower always acted as a lovely breezeway.

He had found the soothing quiet of the Astronomy Tower during his own days at Hogwarts. It had become his place on the castle grounds of freedom, where he could study and read and be free of the torment of his peers. Now, without the fear of being caught by a professor or a roaming Filch, he could allow himself the same luxury as a professor; silence.

The ever-spiraling stairway to the tower was quiet, Severus's soft footsteps and the rustling of his signature black robes mixing with the soft whimsy of the breeze. He held his wand before him, a flicker of light illuminating his thin pale face. He took the last few steps to the heavy wooden door, now with the slight tingling at the back of his neck. He suspected that he wasn't the only in search of cooler temperatures.

Severus gave his wand a sharp flick, the door to the tower swinging open. His suspicions were proven correct as he entered, welcomed by the Tower's other night visitor. She sat in the parapet, her long legs stretched out before her. In the pale moonlight her pretty face shone, allowing Snape to recognize her; a 7th year. Gryffindor. A chaser for the Quidditch team. A student in his afternoon Advanced Potion Making class. She didn't seem to notice him, focused on the brilliance of the starry skies. Unlike Severus's dark robes that seemed to cover every inch of exposed skin, the girl was still in her bed clothes. A thin cotton nightgown hugged her small figure, Severus noticing the girl's small body to be bit curvier than he had remembered her to be in uniform. A black robe was draped over her shoulders, doing a poor job of covering the skin left exposed by the nightgown.

"Miss Blakewood,"

Her head snapped forward, her wild mane of tight blonde curls bouncing as she turned to face the young professor. She gasped, startled, drawing her robe closer to her. "Professor Snape," she stood, wide brown eyes full of shock and fear.

"Do you have any idea as to the hour, Miss Blakewood?" Snape kept his voice low, speaking in a soft drawl.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'll be right off," she whispered. She didn't talk much in class, her small pointed nose usually buried in her textbook. But, in the few words she spoke Snape picked up a slight accent in her clear voice; a pretty Irish dilect, but something heavier. American, perhaps. She quickly tightened the sash of her belt, moving briskly with bare feet. She moved quickly, hoping the breeze past the Potions Master, but he spoke again.

"Not so fast, Miss Blakewood," Kate bit her lip, muttering a curse under her breath as she turned to face the man, "We are aware now that the Astronomy Tower is off limits to students, aren't we?"

"Yes, Professor Snape."

"And that students are to be in their common rooms during curfew and not in the restricted areas of the castle. Correct?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, her round cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment, "Yes, sir."

"So please, explain to me as to why I found you up here in the Tower in the late hours of the night sightseeing, Miss Blakewood?"

Katherine jerked her chin, "I could ask you the same, Professor Snape." She challenged, arms still crossed, her hip popped. She kept her eyes locked upon his own. In the moonlight, the shadows caught his face in a rather attractive way. He was handsome, almost. A nuisance to her silence, but handsome.

Snape's lip curled into a sneer, "How dare you speak back to a professor in such a manner? Your incessant sass is unneeded, child."

"Child?" she scoffed, "You're barely alumni. You're what? Two years my elder?"

"Return to your common room, Miss Blakewood, before I decide to deduct points from Gryffindor and possibly grace you with my presence for the next month in detention." Snape's glare was cold, and his words as icy as his look.

Katherine rolled her eyes, pushing past the professor. Snape stood, his own eyes catching the sight of the night sky. It was rather beautiful. No clouds to shroud the constellations, each star bright and alive. His long fingers curled around the parapet, eyes locked on the skies. He had almost forgotten about the interaction until her soft voice spoke once more.

"It's quiet up here."

The young man turned, facing the girl. She stood in the doorway, the massive entrance making her even smaller. Her curls fell behind her back, small wisps of hair kissing her cheeks as the breeze ruffled her hair again. She brushed them from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Her thin eyebrows were raised, awaiting his response. A strange feeling arose in his chest as he stared at her, his mouth going dry.

"Pardon?"

"It's quiet up here, Professor. I can… be alone." She said softly, her soft gaze boring into his own.

He nodded, "Goodnight, Miss Blakewood."

She offered him a small smile, "Goodnight, Professor Snape."