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 Where the Apple
Falls The thoughts swirling in the pensieve were considerably more organized than they had been while still in Snape's mind. Harry remembered Dumbledore's explanation of the tool, and realized that this was perhaps most useful in finding connections and solving puzzles. All Harry had to do was stir the silver substance with his wand while concentrating on what he wanted to see. He did so, and when he saw a memory featuring his father in flight, he dove in. He tumbled onto the Quidditch pitch, surprised that he had not hurt himself from the fall. Looking briefly up at the action over his head, he started toward the familiar red and gold stands of his own house. Unseen by anyone, he still moved to sit near the people who would one day be his friends. A younger, happier Remus Lupin sat in the front row cheering. Harry sat beside him. Everything that people had told him was true. His father was incredible on a broom. Yet, Harry noticed that many of the acrobatics he performed were unnecessary. They seemed only for the benefit of the cheering audience. He was only rarely dodging bludgers or helping his teammates. In fact, his stunts seemed to be focused on impressing one person. Each time James did something noteworthy, he looked over at a familiar girl. His mother. Lily did not seem terribly impressed. Tired of watching his father show off, he turned his attention toward the rest of the players. The opposing team was in Slytherin green. Their seeker was concentrating on the game, inky black hair pulled back and tied away from his face. He circled the pitch, eyes darting about in search of the snitch. When he came closer, Harry took a moment to examine Snape's younger face. Instead of the perpetual sneer, the younger Snape wore an amused smirk. That smirk turned into a laugh as he watched one of his teammates best Sirius. The hooked nose was still there, but Harry thought that in this face, it didn't seem too bad. A happy Snape, Harry noticed, was a beautiful Snape. Gryffindor was ahead, and doing well. Slytherin had only managed to score a few goals. Yet, none of that mattered once the snitch was spotted. Harry noticed it fluttering near the Hufflepuff stands. At nearly the same moment, Snape flattened himself to his broom, headed for the snitch like a green torpedo. Snape just as skilled a flyer as James, and he had the advantage of being alert. Too late, James noticed Snape's movement and attempted to follow. He was blocked by one of the Slytherin chasers. Snape held up the snitch, and Harry noticed an expression of astonished glee on the boy's face. Invisible to all around him, Harry headed down to the pitch where both teams were gathering. "You queer little prat! You cheated!" Sirius was yelling, being held back by most of the team. James appeared rather eager for Snape's blood as well, but wasn't getting violent. Not in front of the professors, anyway. Snape just glared at the boy struggling to break free. This glare was not as potent as it would eventually become with practice, but it was powerful nonetheless. "How do you suppose that I cheated, Black? I broke no rules." "Jamie always caught the snitch before! He's never lost a game. You had to cheat." "Perhaps," Snape drawled, "if your wonder boy had actually paid attention to the game instead of that little mudblood, he would have won this time as well." He turned abruptly and left the field, the Slytherins in his wake. Harry was pulled along behind. Since this was Snape's memory, he could not be where Snape was not. He followed obediently behind as the team walked into the Slytherin locker rooms. Most of the boys just changed into their regular robes and left for the celebratory party. Those who took showers took short ones, except for one. Harry heard the laughter in the hallway before Snape did, but then Harry saw Snape's wand flying through the air towards the showers just before James and Sirius came in. He watched them walk toward the showers before following rather reluctantly. He had avoided looking at Snape once the boy had removed his robes, and really didn't want to see him now. His father and godfather approached the last shower stall with wands raised. Sirius, however, snarled and lunged at the boy within. He pinned him to the wall as James brandished his wand. Snape, however, was too fast. He pulled out his wand (from where, Harry couldn't figure out) and muttered a couple of curses. Both boys were struck unconscious. Sirius was growing tentacles. Snape levitated them out of the stall and continued to bathe; completely unaware that one of his future students was gawking at him from only a few feet away. Harry felt a momentary pang of concern for James and Sirius, but it was not enough to tear his eyes away from Snape. When Snape had forced him into using his anger the last year to summon his wand, he had felt for the first time the reason that dark magic could be addictive. In front of him, Snape was bearing the physical proof that such magic affected him in exactly the same way that it had affected Harry. Harry's mouth went dry as he watched the future potions master grip his erection, pumping it slowly. The young Snape was lean and toned, his pale skin still unmarked. He had braced himself against the wall with one hand. His eyes were closed and his wet hair was sticking to his face in chunks, but he paid it no attention. Gradually, the hand increased its speed and Snape moaned. When he came, he whispered "Lucius." Harry found himself rather jealous of the elder Malfoy. In another memory, another moment in Snape's life, Harry found himself following the boy down the hallway. Snape seemed to be in a hurry, paying no heed to the other students in the hallway. "Severus," a voice whispered, "in here." Snape ducked into the classroom with Harry not far behind. Lily was seated on the edge of a large desk in the middle of the room, her arms crossed. "What do you want, mudblood?" Snape asked. "We're alone, Severus. There's no need to keep that up here." "You haven't answered my question, Evans," Snape said, but his tone lacked bite. "Don't rise to their bait, Sev. It's not worth it," Lily smiled. "I really don't understand what you see in that fool, Lily. All you do is fight." "He's James. I don't think that I have much of a choice in the matter," Lily smiled. "You don't always get to choose who you fall in love with, you know." "I know," Snape frowned. "Ugh. Speaking of bad choices, what exactly do you see in Lucius?" Lily's grimace was a clear indicator of how she saw the blonde. "Well, I am a Slytherin. Surely you can answer that yourself." Lily counted off on her fingers. "Money, power, knowledge, and family. But surely you see that he's using you, Sev. You're so much younger than him." "Who's to say I'm not using him?" Lily gave Snape a Look that reminded Harry of Hermione. Snape sighed. "Well, I'm using you. Are you too angry to help me with Charms?" "We're using each other, remember? I need your help in Potions." Lily stood up and headed to the door before turning back. "But really, Severus, you need to get some new underwear." For the first time in his life, Harry saw Severus Snape blush. Harry tumbled into another memory only to find that he was once again following Snape as he rushed down the hallways, this time at top speed. Snape clutched a piece of paper in his hand. Eventually, he came to a stop just out of reach of the Whomping Willow. Harry knew instantly what this memory was. He was rather tempted to just leave the pensieve. He watched Snape check the paper, then pick up a loose branch to push at the knob. He followed him down into the passage between the roots. Even while still in the passage, Harry could hear the sounds of someone moaning. Remus's transformation sounded painful. Snape, not knowing for certain the cause of the noise, started running. Emerging from the tunnel, Harry saw the three animagi and the werewolf. Sirius's familiar form caused a momentary pang of grief for Harry, but he quickly shook it off upon noticing the action around him. Snape was pointing a shaking wand at Remus, and he appeared utterly terrified. The wolf, sensing a human nearby, lunged toward him. He was snarling, his mouth foaming with that cursed saliva. James, the largest and fastest of the animagi, thrust himself between the wolf and the man. Tossing his antlers, he attempted to force the wolf off. When that didn't work, he kicked backwards. Snape fell, and Prongs pulled him by his robes to the tunnel's exit. Harry saw the stag throw an accusing glance at the black dog that had been no help at all. Harry understood. The wolf was not Remus. Remus had no control in that form. Had he harmed Snape, he would never have forgiven himself. Sirius's prank had been a betrayal of Lupin's trust. He had betrayed all of the Marauders who had come together for the benefit of that one friend. Yet, Sirius had died without understanding what he had done wrong that night. To Snape, the prank had been planned by all of the Marauders, and they were therefore all guilty. Snape thought that this was proof of their potential to commit murder. Harry knew that nothing he said would ever prove that wrong. Harry wandered through Snape's memories of school: successes and failures, fights and friendships. He watched as Snape's friendship with his mother became more and more strained, as she grew closer to James. He watched memories that had nothing to do with either of his parents. He saw Snape graduate, saw him receive the title of Potions Master. He watched as, one-by-one, what few friends Snape had drifted away. He watched Lucius insinuate himself more firmly in Snape's life, gradually taking control. He watched Malfoy convince the younger man that his path was the correct one, his side the winning side. He saw Snape take the Mark. He saw the man's disgust at the savagery of the people he followed. He saw Malfoy break Snape’s heart by marrying merely for the sake of producing an heir. He watched Snape weep at the feet of Dumbledore, trading one form of enslavement for another. Then, he saw Snape's final memory of Lily and James Potter. Harry found himself standing outside his own home. The small group of Death Eaters around him was enough to make him shiver, though he was in no danger from a mere memory. Harry knew that the man in front was Voldemort, although he looked little like the serpentine monster that he had encountered before. He was no longer Tom Riddle, but he still had at least the appearance of being human. Harry watched the man unlock the door. One masked Death Eater held back, reluctant to enter the house, but was pushed forward by another. Harry followed them inside, knowing what it was he was about to see. He watched as his father, standing between the men and his small family, fell in a flash of green light. He watched his mother, unable to escape, shielded him with her own body. He watched her lips moving in a silent prayer as Voldemort moved toward her. He saw the flash and heard his mother's scream. He watched Voldemort move on to him, and saw the Dark Lord disintegrate as his spirit was forced from his body. The Death Eaters fled, leaving the baby crying in his dead mother's arms, head bleeding. Someone moved past Harry's shadow as he watched his younger self lie helpless. Someone removed his mask and tossed it aside carelessly. Someone bent over to place a kiss on his mother's forehead and close her eyes. Someone picked him up and placed him safely in a crib. "I couldn't stop it, Lily," Snape said, staring blankly at the baby in front of him. "I couldn't stop Him. I failed." Aurors swarmed the place. They had been warned, but they were too late. The Death Eaters had escaped. All but one. Snape put up no resistance when they arrested him. In fact, he did not acknowledge their presence at all. He didn't even appear to notice when Hagrid jostled him in his rush to get to the baby. Snape just continued to stare blankly ahead as they pushed him out of the door. Harry looked back at the house one last time before he pulled himself out of the pensieve completely.
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