Chapter 1
Harry raised his wand, his heart hammering in his chest. "Protego!" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation as he attempted to block his professor’s unrelenting Legilimency attacks.
But the shield was too weak. His mind buckled under the weight of Severus Snape’s intrusion.
Memories, none of them his own, surged through Harry like a tidal wave. A young boy with long, black hair and tattered robes was at the center of every vision.
In one memory, the boy stood in a sunlit meadow, a stark silhouette against the vibrant greens and yellows. Beside him, a girl with fiery red hair twirled in delight, her laughter filling the air. Her radiance contrasted sharply with the boy’s dark, worn clothing and solemn expression.
The scene shifted abruptly. Now the children stood on Platform 9 ¾, the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts students all around them. The girl chatted animatedly, her excitement evident in every gesture, while the boy—Severus—remained stoic, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of anticipation.
Another vision came. This time, the setting was more chaotic. Severus was surrounded by a group of boys, his wand raised defensively. The Marauders. Hexes and insults flew back and forth like arrows, and the hallway seemed less like a school and more like a battlefield. The relentless pranks, cruel laughter, and unspoken tension painted a vivid picture of Severus’ strained life at Hogwarts.
The memories blurred again, and Harry found himself in a clearing near the Whomping Willow. The full moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow on a battered Severus slumped against a tree. His robes were torn, his breathing labored.
“What the hell were you thinking, Sirius?” a voice demanded, sharp with anger. It echoed in Harry’s mind, distant and unclear.
“I—I don’t know! I have no idea what just happened!” Sirius sounded frantic, desperate.
“Why would you tell him to go to the Shrieking Shack on a full moon?” James’ voice cut through the haze, growing clearer. “Moony could’ve killed him! And if that had happened, they’d have come after Remus! It’s a bloody miracle I got to him in time!”
“What? I’d never do that!” Sirius turned to James, his voice raw with fear and confusion. “I swear, I’d never risk—Is Moony okay?”
“You should’ve thought of that before you exposed his secret to this git!” James snapped, his tone filled with fury.
Severus’ vision blurred, and he slumped unconscious against the tree.
Harry gasped as he snapped back into reality, stumbling against the desk in Snape’s office. His professor loomed over him, his black eyes blazing with fury.
“Mister Potter!” Snape’s voice was as sharp as a blade. “How dare you invade my mind—my memories—in such a way?”
“I’m sorry!” Harry stammered, his thoughts spinning. “I—I don’t know what happened!”
“Leave,” Snape ordered, his voice icy and controlled.
“But I—”
“Leave at once, Mister Potter!” Snape’s tone left no room for argument.
Harry scrambled to his feet and fled the office, his heart pounding as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. His mind raced with the fragments of memories he had seen. What happened that night at the Shrieking Shack?