Potter? || Draco Malfoy x Reader

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Turning his head, Snape shook it, seeming like he didn't want to listen to the man's words any further.

"He has her eyes. And she- she'll grow up looking just like her mother."

At that, he picked his head up. He looked right at Dumbledore, desperation in his eyes. It wasn't a pretty sight. And then, he turned his gaze away from him, let it aimlessly wander the room before it seemed like it landed right on me.

I knew he couldn't see me. I knew there wasn't even the slightest possibility for it to be the case. And yet, the hairs on my neck stood up, and my breath hitched.

I never would've imagined I'd see Severus Snape cry. But there he was, a single tear escaping his eyes as he looked right at me- through me.

"If you truly loved her-" His head snapped back over to Dumbledore.

"-No one can know. Swear it!" A short pause followed his words.

"I shall never reveal the best of you."

But he broke that promise. He took it to his grave and then decided to reveal it to me, of all people.

The office dissolved, a whirl of black's and grey's before the next scene became clear before my eyes.

Snape and Dumbledore standing in the entrance hall, keeping a reasonable distance between each other as students in dress-robes and gowns stumbled past them on their way out.

This must've been the night of the Yule ball.

I swiftly remembered how my night went all those years ago, and the way it all went to shit because of my brother but was quickly pulled out of my own memory to witness Dumbledores.

"Well?" The old man murmured, an inquisitorial expression on his face that would seem like they were having a conversation about nothing but the weather from an outsider's perspective.

"Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking. He fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell."

A little stunned by the fact my old headmaster had the mark, I swallowed thickly. Though, remembered quite quickly the kind of person he was, and that it only made sense for him to be one of them.

I kept on listening intently.

Snape turned his head to look at Dumbledore. "He intends to flee if the Mark burns."

"Does he?" He inquired softly, two students running past them, giggling to themselves as they held hands. "And are you tempted to join him?"

"No." Snape's response was immediate and definite. "I am not such a coward."

And Dumbledore agreed with him. "No, you are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff." He stated. "You know, I sometimes think we sort too soon..."

My surroundings changed once more. And I found myself wondering why Dumbledore chose to show me memories that made the very same man who murdered him look better than he ever had before.

I found myself in the Headmaster's office once more, spinning around my own axis to take my surroundings in.

My gaze, flying through the room, got stuck on Dumbledore and Snape once more. The older of the two slumped in his chair as Snape tended to him, muttering incantations before pouring a strange potion down his throat.

"It will contain the curse to your hand, for the time being," Snape explained, his attention now on Dumbledore's hand. It was dark, and burned, no doubt a nasty curse spreading through it.