the_debt_of_time

The truth was, Sirius was not certain what he and Harry were going to find in
Snape's memories, and if the greasy git had included certain ones, it was dangerous
for Harry to see them, let alone Hermione. Sirius was only accompanying Harry in order to
preserve the past—or future, as it were.
"Password?" the stone gargoyle asked as they approached.
"Dumbledore," Sirius muttered, and Harry turned around to look at his godfather
with wide eyes. "I know. Twisted."
Harry glanced hopelessly up at Dumbledore's deserted frame, which hung directly
behind the headmaster's chair, then turned his back on it. The stone Pensieve was in a
cabinet, and Harry seemed to know exactly how to access it. He heaved it onto the desk
and poured the memories into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge. One
right after the other, they descended into Snape's memories, feeling overly anxious about
what they were about to witness.
They fell headlong into sunlight, their feet landing on the warm ground. When Sirius
straightened up, he saw that he was in a nearly deserted playground, a single huge chimney
dominating the distant skyline.
Two girls swung back and forward, and a skinny boy watched them from behind a clump of bushes.
His black hair was long and his clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: too-short jeans, a
shabby, overly large coat that might have belonged to a grown man, an odd smock-like shirt.
"Snape?" Harry cocked a brow.
Sirius inclined his head, staring at the familiar face from his past. It was hard to hate
the man in that moment, looking at him as a child. Sirius, too, had only been a child when
their rivalry began. He felt little remorse thinking back on his actions—save for a few that
he certainly deserved to be guilty about—but looking at the child Snape with Sirius's adult
eyes, he could not but help to feel pity for the boy.
Harry moved closer to Snape.
There was undisguised greed on the boy's thin face as he watched the younger of the two girls
swinging higher and higher than her sister.
"Mum," Harry whispered, and Sirius frowned, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Lily, don't do it!" the elder of the two girls shrieked.
But Lily let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flew into the air, quite literally flew,
launching herself skyward with a great shout of laughter that brought tears to Sirius's eyes. Instead of