Hi everyone! So along with my drabbles, I am also writing this story. In all honesty, it started out as a drabble but I found it would be too long to post. I've been writing like mad for the past week or so, and am working on Ch 15. A few of these chapters are really short, and others are really long, so bare with me!
I love feedback and critisism and predictions, so please let me know! Love, Inspired

Discovered Memories
"We do not remember the days, we remember the moments" ~Cesare Pavese, The Burning Brand

"Mr. Potter," Snape said coldly as he stormed into the empty classroom. There sat Harry, waiting for detention.

"Snape," Harry replied with the same tone.

"Professor Snape or sir," Snape said as he sat down behind his desk. "Now, I want you to clean the cauldrons and wipe up the beetle eye juice from the floor."

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Yes, sir." Snape corrected.

"There's no need to call me sir, Professor," Harry said cheekily.

"Watch it Mr. Potter or you may find yourself with a year's worth detention," Snape threatened.

Harry glared at Snape as he started to clean up the beetle eye juice. Minutes seemed reluctant to pass; it seemed as though a slug on a treadmill was moving faster than the grains of sand through the hour glass. At 7 o'clock, Snape promptly left the room. "I expect to see everything still in its proper place when I return. Do not touch anything if you wish to play Quidditch again." Snape said as he left the room.

Harry rolled his eyes; he didn't plan on touching anything. There was only one reason he would need to touch Boomslang skin, and he didn't need Polyjuice Potion just yet. He continued to scrub at the red stain on the Dungeon floor, the hitting of the sand in the hour glass matching his scrubbing pattern. Half an hour had passed before Harry had come to a realization.

Why can't I just use magic? Snape will never know. Harry mentally hit himself on the head.

"Evansceo," Harry whispered.

"What was that Mr. Potter?" Snape asked as he breezed into the classroom.

"Nothing Professor," Harry answered innocently.

After a dark glare from Snape, Harry now started to clean the cauldrons. The worn cloth was torn and discoloured and the water was icy to his hands.

Snape now made his way to the back of the classroom opened up a cupboard. A Pensieve sat there in the cupboard, and Snape took it out hastily. Closing his eyes, he touched his wand to his head and pulled out three memories from his mind and placed them in the Pensieve. He quickly swirled his wand and stuck his face in the Pensieve.

Harry looked on with curiosity. What did those memories contain? How important were they? What was Snape keeping from him?

Snape lifted his face from the Pensieve and looked darkly at Harry. The pitch black eyes were cold and empty, his face pale, and hands slightly shaking.

"Get back to work Potter," he spat. But his voice didn't have the usual hatred. No, it held something different. Could it be despair?

A yell in the hallway made Snape walked quickly out of the room and into the corridor. Without thinking, Harry got up and put his face in the Pensieve.

Harry fell and landed in what looked like Dumbledore's office. Stepping to the side of room, Harry watched Dumbledore greet Snape at the door.

"Good evening Severus," Dumbledore greeted.

"Headmaster," Severus answered with a nod.

Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and motioned for Snape to sit in the chair in front of him.

"I expect you know why I brought you here?" Dumbledore asked.

"Your hand," Snape confirmed, grasping the blackened hand and reciting incantations. "Headmaster, I can only contain the curse in your hand for a while."

"How long do I have, Severus?" Dumbledore asked with a tone that was airy and conversational.

"Maybe a year. What possessed you to touch the accursed ring?" Snape asked.

"It is curiosity which lies in everyone, but only the unknown will create it," Dumbledore answered in his usual cryptic messages.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Severus, my hand is not the only reason I have summoned you here this evening. I have a, request," Dumbledore said carefully. "Voldemort is rising, and he will not continue to hide for long. Draco was ordered to kill me, yes. But Severus, you must be the one to kill me."

Snape looked surprised. "Why me?"

"Because Draco's soul is whole and well," Dumbledore answered simply.

"And my soul?" Snape answered sarcastically.

Harry walked around the desk to get a closer look at the two men facing each other. One looked sure, and the other wore an expression of blankness.

"That is all, I think Mr. Potter will be wondering where you wandered to," Dumbledore said, ending further discussion.

The memory now changed to a younger looking Snape standing outside of a door in Hogshead Inn. Harry stood quietly beside him, wondering what could possibly be so important here.

" …born the those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" a haunting voice spoke.

Snape's eyes were wide as he pressed his ear closer to the door, his black cloak moving silently around his feet.

"Oi! What do yeh think yer doing? Ge' ou'!" A burly man ordered.

Snape quickly fled the area and disapparated.

Now in a rich manor, Snape repeated what he had heard. Voldemort looked furious at the news of a strong enemy.

"You have done well, spy. The prophecy speaks of the Potters or the Longbottoms. Though where either are located is yet unknown," Voldemort said carefully, a plan already forming in his mind.

"My Lord! Please!" Snape protested. "If it is the Potters, save Lily."

Snape instantly regretted what he had said as Voldemort let out a high laugh. "Save the girl? The filthy Mudblood! You have been useful; if the girl does not fight, she will be spared."

A twist of colours and now Snape stood holding Lily Potter's body, his own body shaking with overflowing emotion, and a baby crying in the background.

A hand grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pulled him up.

Snape's face was white with fear and his lips trembled.

"Get. Out," He spoke in a threatening undertone.

"But Professor! Professor!" Harry protested as he was shoved out of the classroom.

He loved my mum, Harry thought as he walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room. I've got to help him.

Without watching where he was going, Harry bumped into Hermione and Ron. He wasn't going to tell them anything…not yet.