It all started with a Pensieve

Chapter One

"This isn't going to work," Harry decided, as he, Ron and Hermione walked down the corridor to Gryffindor Tower.

"Of course it is," Hermione declared. She still had faith in her plan.

"Yeah, Harry. We've done this a million times before," Ron of course was referring to breaking into Snape's private storage and stealing ingredients for potions. How many times had they done this? Harry had lost count.

"Yeah, but that was in his storage cabinet. Now we're attempting to break into his private rooms." Harry sighed, and then a thought occurred to him. "And how exactly do we know that all this stuff will be in there?"

"Neville saw them when he had to clean all their jars for detention last week," Ron sniggered.

"I still say this won't work," He had his mind made up, and it wasn't going to change.

"Think what you will, when the Slytherins see what we're planning, they'll freak." Hermione couldn't help but love what they were doing, and despite her morals, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"I can't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face," Ron's face contorted up into a look of sheer and utter surprise and horror, then he doubled over laughing, as did Hermione. Harry smiled a small smile. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.


It was a long held tradition that the seventh year Gryffindores, and the seventh year Slytherins were to out do each other for pranks. When this tradition started wasn't quite remembered, but it was guessed that the Marauders probably had something to do with it. Harry of course, once hearing about this in his sixth year, found that his seventh year would hold even more to look forward to. So when his seventh year had rolled around, it was quite clear that Harry was enjoying himself, possibly more then he should, but nonetheless having fun.

The pranking was scored. When one side threw a prank at the other, whether it be one person in particular, or the whole house, a point was given. By the end of September Gryffindor was up by four, but Harry wasn't quite satisfied yet. He wanted to get back at Malfoy in particular, and their plan was going to be perfect, if only they could get the right ingredients.

With Hermione being Head Girl made getting things, which would have been previously unattainable, able to be found. She was now able to get into the restricted section of the library, hence being able to find the certain potion's book, which held the instructions for this certain concoction.

The ingredients had been more difficult to obtain. Some of them were bought at Hogsmeade, and others were stolen during potions class. Though Snape's private storage cabinet had been searched thoroughly, nothing could be found.

Hope for the perfect way to get back at Malfoy had almost been lost, but when Neville 'accidentally' blew up his cauldron during potions, he was sentenced to learn the jars in Snape's own quarters. Seeing the three missing ingredients held within, but being under too watchful an eye to steal them, he reported back, and the plot was hatched.


Friday afternoon proved to be most boring. Harry, having divination for the last to periods, was sitting next to Ron, predicting their deaths, when Ron brought up something.

"Harry?" Ron inquired.


"How are we going to stop Snape from being in his quarters?" Ron had a very valid point, that not even Hermione had thought of.

"I have no idea," Harry admitted. For the rest of the afternoon Harry's mind was occupied with the constant thought of getting rid of Snape. The plan was scheduled for that night, and if someone didn't think of something soon, they would have to find another way to get the last ingredients.

Unfortunately, no such idea struck Harry, or Ron that day. With classes over, and the trio sitting in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was consulted.

"Any ideas?" Harry asked smugly, gloating over the fact he knew something was going to go wrong.

"Oh, stop being so smug," Hermione chided. "We'll go down at dinner. We won't have much time, but it's the only chance we're going to get tonight." Harry, still not sure, but wanting to get even with Malfoy, agreed to the slight change of plans.


Dinner, as always was loud and crowded, thanks to this no one missed the three vacant seats at the Gryffindor table. And even if the odd Gryffindor did, nothing was said to draw attention to it.

Down, many floors below the Great Hall, three seventh year students, under a stifling hot invisibility cloak, moved silently. Harry, being in the middle, checked his map. Everything was as planned. Snape was in the Great Hall, sitting on the Headmaster's left side, at the faculty table. Filch was in his chambers, as was Mrs. Norris. Peeves was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, presumably playing his new favorite game, flushing Myrtle into the lake. And to add to that, not one other soul was in sight of the dungeons.

Neville had conveniently marked off on the map where Snape's chambers were. "Leave it to Snape to have chambers on the very bottom dungeon of Hogwarts." Ron remarked, quietly, as they trekked down yet another flight of stairs. The three of them had lost track of how many floors they had gone under, and were now relying heavily on Harry's map.

"I think we only have two more flights to go," Hermione pointed out, showing their position.

The further down they went, the colder and wetter it got. Dripping sounds could be heard coming from above and below them. At some points, Harry got the distinct idea he could see his breath. They went down one more flight of stairs, and then another, until they came off of a flat landing.

"Merlin, how can Snape stand it?" Ron asked blankly, rubbing his hands together. This was one of the spots where they could see their breath. "So where are we supposed to go?" He asked, looking around to only see a carving of a serpent on the right side of the wall.

"Three guesses to where his chambers are," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at the snake's pointed fangs.

"He really does have some fascination with snakes, doesn't he?" Hermione commented, approaching the snake. She stretched out a finger and pressed it closer to the snake, only to have the snake bite at her finger. Luckily, she pulled it away it time to save her finger from being bitten off.

"How did Neville say to get in?" Harry asked, checking his map once again, to make sure everyone was still in place.

"Password," Hermione told them. She stood in front of the snake again, keeping her distance enough so they it couldn't reach her. "Slytherin," With that the snake let out a threatening hiss, causing Ron to jump back slightly, and it coiled inward, then slithered up the wall, leaving a stone doorway.

"Ron, will wait here, and I'll go up to the next landing with the map. If I see anything I'll motion for Ron to tell you, Harry. Keep the invisibility cloak with you, and hide you and Ron. I'll talk my way out of it" Hermione was much more confident about breaking rules, now that she was Head Girl. She started up the stairs, and then turned back, "And remember to be quick. We don't have much time," With that she bolted up the stairs, map in hand.

Ron nodded at Harry, "Good luck," He said with a smile.

Harry turned and entered the chamber. His first impression was how cold it was. It must have been even more freezing then the outside of his chambers. Harry, wrapping his Hogwart's robes around him more tightly, looked around. The entire chamber was stone: the floor, the ceiling, the walls, and even all of the visible furniture, except perhaps a plush green chair, located in front of a massive fireplace, which by the way had no fire in it. Harry almost had the urge to go and lit a fire, even if it was just for a few seconds, so he could get some warmth. A desk sat at the far corner, with parchment, quills and books scattered messily atop of it. To the left of the fireplace was a door, peering inside it proved that the room was a dinning room of sorts. A bathroom was located at the other side.

Harry exited the dinning room, and went to the door found at the head of the chamber. Snape's bedroom was where this was. A huge bed, covered in green, tattered bed sheets, which looked to Harry like some sort of moss, with matching curtains, hung around the bed. A night table sat beside the bed, with nothing on it other then a book marked book. With no other place to go in Snape's chambers, Harry went in the door, behind Snape's desk.

This was the workroom. A discarded cauldron, on a large stone table, sat in the middle of the room, amongst stained old parchment, which looked like they were rotting at the corners. Shelves upon shelves of bottled up liquids, and some solids hung on the walls. Harry took in a deep breath. This was going to take a very long time. He pulled out the list of what he needed: one bezoar, one Romanian Longhorn Dragon horn, (sliced into four parts) and Jobberknoll feathers.

Harry began to pour over hundreds of jars and bottles. All of them were neatly labeled in Snape's sharp script. Harry hadn't been through many when he found the Jobberknoll feathers. The bezoar was found only minutes later. The Romanian Longhorn Dragon horn took considerably longer, being it was on the top shelf, which apparently Neville had forgotten to dust, because it was covered in dust and a darker black powder that smelled odd. Harry collected the three ingredients in separate jars he had brought along with him, and made his way for the exit. Checking his watch, he was happy to see that they still had a little over a half an hour.

He was just about to leave when something caught his eye by the workroom door. It was a pensieve, Harry was sure, but it looked much different from the one in Dumbledore's chambers.

The one in Dumbledore's chambers had seemed light, silver and happy, not of course that all the memories concealed inside it were happy, but Harry had got the distinct impression that in general most of them were more happy then sad. This one seemed much different. The liquid steaming in it was pure black, except for the images that swirled around it. Faint screams, as if they were coming through stonewalls radiated from it. The present image that swirled at the top was of a man, cloaked in solid black, as well as a hood, ran through a forest, as if being chased. Harry couldn't make out who it was, but he was sure, for one reason or another that it was Snape.

The image swirled and got lost and mixed up in the sea of blackness. Another one appeared this one was of a child, probably eleven, or maybe twelve. He was being pushed down a high set of steep stone stairs, by a group of boys. Harry recognized the stairs were the ones by the potion's classroom. As he tumbled down them, and landed painfully on his arm, a sickening, yet faint crack was hear amidst the still present screaming, as the other boys laughed and turned away, leaving the one boy, holding his arm at the bottom of the stairs, tears streaming down his face.

Harry forced himself to look away. He wanted to see more, go into the pensieve and see these scenes more in detail, but time was running short on him. He was about to leave, when a face in the pensieve caught his eye. It was him. He looked closer, to see that it was unmistakable. He must have been fifteen. But why was he in Snape's pensieve. Then he noticed that it couldn't have been him. The boy in the pensieve didn't have green eyes. They were a deep blue, with huge amounts of light reflecting in them. Harry took a step back, momentarily relieved that he wasn't in Snape's pensieve, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him, in the pitch-black liquid.

It must have been his father, was what Harry concluded. He watched as his father was saying something, he couldn't make out the words, they were being spoke in an icy whisper. What was clear was that he was threatening Snape. Another boy, most likely Snape, by Harry's guess, was standing in front of his father. Then with no precaution at all, his father took a hard punch a Snape, landing it square in the gut. He watched as the boy doubled back, clutching his stomach. It seemed to Harry that his father would back off now. He had clearly gotten his message across, and Snape wasn't in the position to do much now, but he didn't stop. He returned in punching him again and again, cursing and swearing at him as he did. Harry felt his stomach tighten as he watched the younger version of his father beat Snape into the fetal position. The screams from the pensieve grew louder, less faint, as if they were egging him on. Then with a harsh laugh, Harry's father got up and walked away laughing his head off, leaving Snape once again in serious pain.

Harry could watch no more. He got up, and slammed the door behind him, trying to block out the screaming of the pensieve, that swam rapidly around in his head. He exited Snape's chambers, never wanting to go back and wanting to forget he had ever seen that horrid pensieve.

Ron was waiting where Harry left him. "Did you get the stuff?" He asked, in a hushed whisper. Harry held up the jars that he had collected. Ron's smile widened. "This is so great." Then he noticed Harry wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?"

Harry tried to snap himself out of it. "Nothing," He said through clenched teeth. "Let's go get Hermione," He suggested, managing a small smile. The two of them rushed off to the next landing, under Harry's invisibility cloak, to grab Hermione and take her back to Gryffindor Tower.


Harry lay in his bed that night, rethinking, for about the hundredth time that night, the events of that night. After the incident in Snape's chamber, the three of them had made their way back upstairs to their dormitories, effectively hiding the ingredients in Harry's invisibility, at the bottom of his trunk, saved for later use the following day. They had went to grab dinner from the house elves in the kitchen, Harry attempting to act normal, but unable to keep the thought of his father beating the living daylights out of Snape, when he was seemingly unprovoked, was asked about fifty times during the course of their dinner, whether he was alright.

Homework that night proved an impossible task, so giving up, Harry let himself be beaten at chess by Ron, and retired early for the night. Not that he had slept at all. With his curtains drawn around him, he heard the other four boys return to the dormitory and fall asleep without any trouble. By three in the morning, Harry had given up any hope of sleeping that night and was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't understand. From everything he had been told from Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, and not to mention a huge host of other people, Harry had always gotten the impression that his parents were good, seemingly perfect people. He had been told they were Head Boy and Head Girl, they were Aurors, and they fought against Voldemort. Harry couldn't get it in his mind as to why his own 'perfect' father would ever do something like this.

Harry didn't know why, but he knew he needed to find out. The idea of sneaking into Snape's chambers and looking into his pensieve was both terrifying and exciting at the same time. His father couldn't have been like that, Harry kept telling himself. There must have been some reason that he couldn't see. Even though he kept repeating this over and over in his mind, Harry knew it wasn't true. He had seen the whole scene and there was no way he could make an accuse about it, but yet he tried.

Harry decided then and there that he would sneak down to that pensieve as many times as he had to, until he saw that scene again, until he saw what really happened that night.


Well here's my first chapter. Forgive me, but I've never written fanfiction before, but I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, and love my Sevvie baby to death. So I'll try and update this regularly. I have no idea how long this will turn out to be. I think I have a rough idea of what's going to happen, but I'll probably add a bit in as I go. I'm pretty sure this will end up as slash, but you never know. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'm going to try and cater to the reviewers, so if you have an idea tell me and I might incorporate it somehow.