Remembrance

A companion piece to Common Interests

By Snapegirlkmf

This story is dedicated to my mother, Mary, who passed away 4 months ago of Parkinsons Disease and also a dear family friend, Dr. Paul Coniglio, who passed three days ago of kidney failure. May angels sing you to your rest and Paul, say hi to Mom, she's waiting to welcome you in heaven.

And now, without further ado, I give you . . . Remembrance.

1

Do I Know You?

Angel's Rest

June 21, 1990:

He came to the graveyard every year on this date, the date of her birth, to remember and to mourn the loss of his mother, Eileen Aurora Prince-Snape. The graveyard was called Angel's Rest, and Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, knew there was at least one angel resting here for all eternity. He knew his mother would have rolled her eyes at referring to her that way, she had never been perfect, and often had a quick tongue, but she had tried her best to instill honor, pride, and integrity into her son. She had also struggled to keep her child safe from her abusive husband, though she failed more often than not. But Severus forgave her, for Tobias Snape was not an easy man to thwart, he was cold and hard, and danced to no one's tune but his own.

Tobias had married Eileen for her beauty and her wealth, he never believed in magic, claimed it was all parlor tricks and fake, maybe once he had even loved her, but whatever affection he felt didn't last the two years it took to run through her trust fund. Tobias was a user, both of people and drugs, and a gambler also. He dealt cards and cocaine, and played with people's lives in a casual nonchalant fashion.

He had hidden that side from Eileen while he dated her, but she discovered the awful truth about six months into her marriage. She was horrified, but sought to try and help her husband. Only problem was, Tobias didn't want any help. To her sorrow, he pushed away all attempts at getting clean and going into rehab.

And Eileen, who loved the irresponsible bounder, and tried so hard to redeem him, struggled against an unstoppable tide, breaking her heart time and again upon Tobias' selfishness and greed.

Severus sighed, and knelt to lay a bouquet of roses and jonquils upon her grave, which was carefully tended by the staff. The headstone was of pure silver Italian marble, Severus had paid for it himself, it had cost him a month's salary, but the cost had been irrelevant. The stone bore a pair of angel wings at the top and beneath the inscription with his mother's years and the message Beloved Mother, Faithful Wife, Devoted Daughter. You were all that was warm and wonderful. May you know Eternal Peace.

There was a small niche in the headstone where a single blue candle burned. Severus had enchanted the candle to burn perpetually, the light that never went out, a beacon of warmth in a world that was colder by her absence.

He put his fingers to his lips, then placed them upon the headstone, in loving benediction.

"Happy birthday, Mum."

He always came here on this date, as well as the holidays, to remember the woman who had given him life, and loved him despite the many mistakes he had made. She had forgiven him everything in the end, even when he could not forgive himself.

It was mild for June, a nice clear day, yet Severus felt a chill run through him. He remained on his knees, out of respect and repentance, his head bowed, eyes fixed upon the headstone.

As always, the memories came, good and bad, flowing inexorably through him . . .

His earliest memory was of loving arms rocking him to and fro, the smell of honey and lemon drifting into his nostrils as he buried his face into the curve of her neck, feeling her voice vibrating through him as she sang softly.

"Sleep, baby, sleep
Your father tends the sheep
Your mother shakes the dreamland tree
And from it fall sweet dreams for thee
Sleep, baby, sleep
Sleep, baby, sleep

Sleep, baby, sleep
Our cottage vale is deep
The little lamb is on the green
With snowy fleece so soft and clean
Sleep, baby, sleep
Sleep, baby, sleep"

He couldn't have been more than a year or two when she sang that to him, but the old tune and the words had never been forgotten. To this day he remembered her familiar sweet soprano and drifting off into slumber, safe and warm.

But no sooner had he acknowledged that memory, another took its place.

A somewhat older and very curious Severus watched Eileen stirring something with a large spoon in a big bowl. "Whatcha makin', Mama?"

Eileen turned and gave her inquisitive son a smile. "It's a cake, Sevvy, for your daddy's birthday." She showed him the thick chocolate batter.

"Can I help?"

Eileen gave him an indulgent grin. "Here. Stir the batter four times." She held the bowl and let him have the spoon.

He stirred, counting aloud.

"Very good!" she praised. "Now, once I'm done, you can lick the bowl."

Her son beamed proudly up at her. He knew he was a good helper and he loved getting the first taste of the rich batter . . .

Unconsciously, he found himself licking his lips. He could almost taste the chocolate; the cake was still his favorite.

More memories followed.

Eileen showing him how to grind up lavender in a mortar, stirring a potion counterclockwise, then decanting it. "Good job, Sevvy, you're a natural!"

Getting scolded and sent to the corner for trying to brew without waiting for her . . .

Crying into her robes after being knocked down by Tobias and snarled at for acting like a coward crybaby . . .

Running into her bedroom after a particularly scary dream and finding her holding an ice pack to her bruised chin. "Sevvy, what's wrong?"

"I . . . had a scary dream, Mama," he sniffled, crawling into her lap. "What happened to your face?"

"I fell down, baby, but it'll be all right. Want to tell me about your dream?"

He nodded, but even then had known something wasn't right . . .

He had been around six or seven at the time, and hadn't realized what had been going on, but soon he would recognize the signs and bear witness to her misery at the hands of his father . . .

"Tobias, leave him alone! He's a child, he can't control himself, it's accidental magic . . . I've told you before . . ." she argued with his furious father.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Eileen! Now you're teaching him those bloody illusionist tricks . . . I won't have it!"

"You cannot stop it," she returned sharply. "It's natural for a wizard, especially a strong one, to display bursts of power."

"No! If he won't stop, then I'll make him stop . . ." Tobias growled, fists clenching.

Eileen stood her ground. "You'll not hurt him, Tobias! He's a little boy!"

"He's a disrespectful snot!" roared her husband, his hand lifting.

Small Severus huddled in a corner of the kitchen, sobbing. "No, Daddy! Don't hurt Mama! Don't!"

Shuddering, he sent that memory back to sleep with his iron will. She had suffered much for her defiance, and for a time things would be normal again, and Severus could pretend his dad loved him, if only a little, and there would be plenty of food on the table and he wouldn't go to bed hungry. But then Tobias' lucky streak would fade and he would go back to doing lines and become vicious and mean, sneering and giving his son the back of his hand. And so the vicious cycle continued.

Coming home from primary school to find her battered and lying on the couch with a cold cloth over her eyes. "Mama . . . why do you let him do it? Why don't you just hex him to pieces?"

"Oh, Sev, I couldn't do that. I promised . . . there are laws against hexing a Muggle, you know . . ." she murmured wearily. "He . . . doesn't know what he's doing . . .the drugs bring out the worst in him . . ."

"I wish he'd drop dead!"

"Severus, he's your father . . ."

"So what? I hate him, look what he's doing to you!"

"Shhh . . . he's not in his right mind . . . half the time he doesn't even remember what he did until I remind him. He's sick, Sevvy . . ."

"He needs to be locked up like a mad dog!" her son spat. "Why don't you just leave him?"

She shook her head sadly. "He wasn't always this way. He needs me to help him find the way back . . . I need to try harder . . ."

But she had been blinded by hope and love, caught in the endless loop of regret and compassion for a man who no longer deserved such things. She would try and for a time he would comply, until the next big game of chance down at the pub. For a time Severus would hope things could be different, that his father had turned over a new leaf and gotten free of the poison powder, but then Tobias would explode into violence, leaving his family torn apart in mind and body.

Going to Hogwarts had been a blessing at first, a way to get away and be free, to no longer hide his magic, a place where he could be accepted. Only to find that shades of his father lurked there too, and he became a kind of outcast, the target of bullies, his haven become a misery.

"I'm not going back!" he had cried angrily, hiding his face in his pillow the night before his second year.

"Why, Sev? I thought you loved Hogwarts?"

"Not anymore."

"Can you tell me why?" she asked softly, stroking his hair.

"I have no friends, except Lily. Everyone tells me Slytherins can't be friends with Gryffindors."

"Severus, that's not true! I had friends from other houses at school . . ."

"Well, things are different now . . . and then there's these stupid boneheads called the Marauders . . ." He hadn't meant to tell her that, but he had never been able to hide anything from her.

Upon learning about the bullying, she had gone pale and her eyes had flashed with blue lightning. "I shall be speaking with the Headmaster about this. No son of mine should be treated so. Those boys need a lesson in manners!"

She had done as she had promised, but her efforts were doomed to failure. For a time, the Marauders behaved, leaving him be, but like Tobias, they were soon back to their old ways.

Severus refused to speak of it again, he didn't want Eileen to feel bad, and it did no good anyway. His only solace was brewing and Lily Evans.

Fat snowflakes drifted from the sky, coating everything with a pristine layer of winter white snow, but inside the Snape residence all was warm and toasty as Eileen helped Severus and Lily decorate the Christmas tree. They hung homemade ornaments and ones that Eileen had inherited from her parents and strung cranberries and popcorn along with twinkling lights all over. Fifteen-year-old Severus put the star on top, because he was the only one tall enough to do so without help.

Then they sang Christmas carols and drank cups of spiced eggnog and ate gingerbread. There was laughter and merriment and Eileen's smile lit up the room, it was a rare time of joy and peace.

Severus recalled the wonderful self-stirring cauldron and Advanced Potions text he'd gotten that year. He wondered how on earth Eileen had afforded it, but all she said was that God had provided. It was only years later that he discovered she had pawned her wedding ring.

He had been there the night of the ceremony when Eileen had won the prestigious Best Brewer and Inventor in Britain award.

Severus watched as the Head of the Brewers Association put the golden chasuble around Eileen's neck, the chasuble had an embroidered cauldron and a wand on it, plus a gold pin. There was also a framed certificate and a cash prize of 400 Galleons.

Severus had felt so proud he wanted to burst, and he had stood up and applauded as soon as the award was given. His mother had looked radiant, her hair was woven in a crown of braids, and her smile lit up the room. It matched his own, as he celebrated his brilliant mother, the best brewer in Britain.

But after that triumph came dark days, where Tobias gambled away every penny he made, or spent it on drugs. At year's end, Severus was the victim of a cruel joke by the Marauders, causing him to be humiliated and quarrel with Lily. When he had tried to apologize, she had rejected him, totally devastating him in the process. That summer had been bad, he had been depressed and moody, wishing he had a gun to shoot Tobias, the worthless sod, and then himself. But Eileen had comforted him as best she could. . .

There was little Eileen could do to patch things up between her son and her husband, both were too stubborn and had written the other off long ago. But she could and did offer comfort to her son in regards to his broken heart and friendship with Lily.

"Sev, if you've apologized for your behavior and repented of your temper and your sharp tongue, there is little you can do if she insists on holding to bitterness and anger. It sounds as though she has allowed her housemates to influence her, and no longer wants your friendship. A shame, because you were so good together. I will miss her, Sev, and I know you will. But you mustn't blame yourself. Forgiveness must come from within, and if she cannot forgive you for a moment of anger, that's her loss, not yours."

He had protested, of course, saying he deserved her anger.

"No. You made a mistake and allowed your temper to speak for you, but a true friend forgives, because she knows that one day the same might happen to her, for no one is perfect, and she would wish you to forgive her when that day comes. To err is human, to forgive divine. Perhaps one day she will learn that lesson, and realize what she threw away."

She had hugged him then, and he had found a kind of comfort in her embrace, despite the ache in his heart.

The summer of sorrows continued, culminating in the death of his father from an overdose, Eileen had found him dead in the garage. Eileen had been inconsolable, and Severus feared for her, she blamed herself for not keeping a better watch on Tobias.

The day of the funeral dawned dank and cold, with a misty drizzle that highlighted the mood perfectly.

Severus stood next to Eileen, one arm draped about her shoulder. He could not bring himself to mourn the man who had torn his family to shreds. He felt nothing for his late father but contempt and a cold hatred. What a waste! He thought, hugging Eileen close. Damn you, Dad! Even in death you manage to fuck things up. He hated his father, not only for what he had done to his son, but for what he had done to his wife. He had hurt her while he was alive, and even in death he hurt her still.

He glowered down at the open grave, wanting to tell Eileen they were better off without the bloody bastard now, but knowing that was the last thing she wanted to hear. So he said nothing and just held her, letting her cry on his shoulder as she had done for him.

He found his eyes misty with tears, though his sorrow was not for Tobias, for even now he could not bring himself to forgive the man, but for his mother.

Severus drew a hand across his eyes, wiping away the sudden tears. For a year afterwards things had been good for them. Eileen had been so proud when he had garnered the highest OWL scores in potions ever at Hogwarts. She had finally stopped mourning Tobias and what could have been and continued to brew, working independently for St. Mungos and several apothecaries in the area. Her expertise was in high demand and for the first time in a very long time they had extra money in the bank and some to put away for Severus to attend the Academy of Potioneers in Oxford.

Except for Lily still refusing to speak with him, the Marauders nearly killing him with their "little joke", and being proposition to join the pureblood supremacist set, Severus counted it a good year. If only things could have stayed the way they were.

The change came gradually, with little things. At first Severus teased her when they went to the supermarket and Eileen would stand there, pondering what she wanted from the produce aisle. "What's wrong, Mum?"

"You know, Sev, I forgot for a moment what I wanted," she admitted, chuckling. "I'm such a silly goose!"

"Must be getting old, huh?" he teased, smirking.

"Old? I'll show you old, you cheeky brat!" she mock-growled, and cuffed him playfully across the back of the head. She was only thirty-six.

He hadn't thought anything of it, everyone had memory lapses from time to time. And if she happened to oversleep for work, he always reminded her. As a joke, he bought her an alarm clock for her birthday, among other things. She laughed when she opened it.

But gradually her memory started to get worse, she had to keep lists all the time of things she wanted to do around the house or shop for, and she consulted potions texts for brewing as if she were a student again and not the top of her field.

It scared Severus, who begged her to see a Healer and get checked out. A brewer of her caliber couldn't afford to be forgetting things in the middle of a draft.

"It's probably nothing to be concerned about, Sev. Just one of those momentary lapses." She had told him, attempting to be positive.

But it wasn't a simple thing at all. The Healer, after doing various diagnostic tests, diagnosed her with a rare disease that slowly stole away her memory. "Muggles have a similar disease, called Alzheimer's, this is the wizard version of it."

"Can't you use Memory Restoratives?" was Severus' first question.

"Yes, for a time. But it's a progressive disease, eventually she will forget even her own name."

"There's nothing you can do to arrest it?"

"Nothing. I've seen it before. My uncle had it. I'm sorry." The Healer said compassionately.

But Severus refused to accept that. There had to be something to help. And even if there wasn't, he would invent a potion to stop the terrible disease. "How long before . . .?"

"It varies depending on the person. Most last a year or two before the disease makes them forget everything they ever knew. Does your mother live alone?"

"Yes. When I'm in school."

"Might I suggest a house elf to help her if she needs it?"

"My mother lives in a mostly Muggle neighborhood."

"Ivy is very discreet."

Severus spoke with Eileen, saying he thought a house elf might keep her company and assist her while he was gone. She reluctantly agreed and Ivy moved in.

He spent the rest of that summer doing tons of research. Medically there wasn't much on the disease, but he looked into Memory Restoratives and how to make them stronger and last longer. He tried dozens of experiments, some worked and some didn't. He gave her the improved Memory Restorative before leaving on the Hogwart's Express. He hoped it would hold her until he came home for the holidays.

Eileen seemed to be doing fine, but the Healer said it was only a matter of time.

He became seventeen that January, a legal adult in the eyes of the wizarding world. In March, Eileen took a turn for the worse. She went out for a small walk and became confused and lost in the neighborhood, almost being run over by a passing motorist. A kindly neighbor had brought her back home and stayed with her while the unseen Ivy called Severus and told him what had occurred.

Severus got permission to come home and get Eileen settled, assuring the neighbor he would hire a caregiver and thanking her for helping Eileen. Healer Devon suggested a private room in St. Mungos.

Severus had been horrified. Lock up his mother like a crazy animal? "I can't! I can't do that!"

"Son, next time she could wander off and get killed."

"Ivy can watch her closely. After an hour she was all right."

"This time. But what about next time? The episodes are becoming more and more frequent. You're still in school, you can't be with her twenty-four hours a day. Putting her in St. Mungos would be the kindest thing you could do for her."

"No. I don't have the authority anyhow."

"Yes, you do. You're seventeen, Mr. Snape, and a legal adult. Please, I know it's hard, but just consider it."

He returned to school, after giving strict instructions to Ivy, haunted by the choices before him. He spoke to no one about Eileen's condition, there was nothing anyone could do to help, and he didn't want anybody's pity. He would get through this, just like he had everything else.

But finally the Memory Restoratives stopped working and Eileen slipped further and further away into a shadowy gray world. It broke Severus' heart, but he finally agreed to place Eileen in a private ward in the hospital, where she would have round the clock care from professionals while he finished school. He had considered leaving early, but Eileen in one of her rare lucid periods forbade it.

"You shall finish school, Severus. I will not have you quitting because of me. I am perfectly fine here, Marta and Allison are very kind, and we take walks in the garden on Tuesdays and they help me brew on Wednesdays. I enjoy it and you are going to go back to school and take your NEWTS and make me proud, Severus."

He did as she ordered, but it was hard. Not a day went by that he didn't think of her and worry. He wrote dozens of letters to Healer Devon and her nurses. He sat for his NEWTS and scored very high in potions and Defense. As soon as he had the results, he went to see Eileen to share them with her. Only to find that she had turned another corner.

"Hello, Mum. How are you feeling today? I brought you something. Take a look at this." He walked forward, holding his NEWT scores in his hand.

Eileen was sitting in a chair, dressed in a comfortable pair of green slacks and a matching tunic, wearing her familiar black robes with the chasuble around her neck.

His breath caught at the sight of the chasuble, and his heart contracted remembering her as she had been when she had won that award. Now she was but a shadow of herself.

She gazed up at him, her dark eyes confused and clouded. "Do I know you?" She asked, her voice quavering slightly. "Are you new here? Why didn't Marta introduce you? Have you been here before?"

Severus felt all the air woosh out of his lungs, as if he'd taken a blow to the solar plexus. He struggled to breathe, dread stabbing him like a spear. Could it be that she didn't know him?

"Mum, it's me. Severus. Your son," he said, desperation edging his tone. Surely she couldn't have forgotten him!

She blinked. "I . . . who are you? Do I know you?"

"Of course you do, Mum. It's Severus, your son. Try and remember, Mum. Try real hard." There was a sickening feeling in his gut. He began listing things they liked to do together, hoping something would jog her memory.

Suddenly she sat up straight. "Do you know, I haven't seen my husband at all today? He must be working. Do you know where Tobias is?"

Severus felt as if a giant had stomped him flat. Hearing her say those words hurt worse than a dozen Cruciatus Curses. She remembered Tobias, the bloody bastard, and not her son! How could she remember the bastard who had made her life hell and forget about her son, who loved her more than anything?

He ran to her then, kneeling at the side of her chair, grasping her hand in his. "Please, Mama, please!" he gasped, his chest felt as if it were being squeezed by a giant fist, reverting back to the old form of address. "You have to remember! You can't have forgotten me! It's Severus, Mama. You used to call me Sevvy! Remember Sevvy?"

He stared up into her eyes, desperately searching for some spark of recognition. But there was nothing.

Eileen smiled dreamily. "You're such a nice boy to come visit. I think . . . I knew another boy once . . . long ago . . ."

"Yes! That was me. I came to visit all the time. We would look at potion magazines and eat blueberry scones and drink tea. Do you remember now?"

"I like tea. It tastes good." She patted his cheek. "Such a handsome lad. Like my husband. Do you know where he is?"

Severus felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. "He's dead and gone!" he snapped harshly. "Why do you remember him and not me, Mama? He never loved you like you deserved, but I do! Why can't you remember me?"

"He'll be back soon, won't he?" she continued, oblivious to the way she was tearing him to pieces with every word she spoke.

Frantic to make her remember, he cast Legilimens on her, trying to find a stray memory of himself so he could show her. But her memories were fragmented, incomplete things, bits and pieces and he could not make sense of them and neither could she. He could feel himself start to lose control, to be drawn into the maelstrom of gray and white shadows, and he withdrew with a soft cry of denial.

Eileen was slowly losing herself and there was nothing he could do.

"Come back to me!" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please come back!"

Eileen looked at him, puzzled. "But I'm right here, dear. I haven't gone anywhere."

"Yes, you have. You've gone where I cannot follow," he murmured. Then he put his head down on her lap and cried.

He felt her hand stroking his head. "There, there, poor boy! Don't cry. Are you lost?"

The words were sincere, but he knew she didn't know him, they were the kind of words one speaks to a stranger. He sobbed wretchedly, for he had lost the one person that mattered, and he knew she would never come back to him.

Severus drew in a deep breath and dashed the tears from his face. He hated remembering that horrible moment, but he couldn't stop recalling it either, no matter how much it hurt.

After that, he visited every week, and every week he would hope she remembered him, but her nurses shook their heads and said there was no change. She was forgetting even them now, though they were with her everyday.

It was torture watching her slowly deteriorate, but Severus never stopped coming. Even when she kept treating him like a stranger he came and talked to her, telling her about his exams and how Lily had stupidly started dating James Potter. Talking to her gave him a small measure of peace.

She lasted long enough for him to finish school and come to show her his diploma and final marks. He had applied to the Academy and been accepted early due to his outstanding NEWTS.

"How wonderful, my dear! Your mama must be so proud!"

"Yes. She is," he said sadly.

She had developed a cough, and her breathing was heavy, it didn't seem to be responding to any conventional potions. She grew weaker and weaker, despite all the Healers tried to do. Severus remained by her side constantly. He took over trying to feed her and bathing her face and neck to try and bring down her fever. He spooned cordials into her as best he could, stroking her throat until she swallowed, for she had almost forgotten that as well.

Then he talked to her, reminding her of all the things she had loved and the good times they had shared. He talked more to her then than he had in all of his seventeen years of life, as if he were making up for lost time.

Half the time she was silent, studying him, or lost in some fragmented memory. But occasionally she would smile or chuckle, as if he'd said something funny. Once or twice she cried and a few times she would glare at him and scold sharply, "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, never keep the fire too hot, the potion will burn!" or "Next time squish the sopophorus bean, it'll get more juice out. Do you think I don't know how to brew this draft?"

Whatever she said, he agreed with, he even apologized for brewing the nameless potion wrong. He tried to keep her calm, for when she grew agitated, so did her cough.

Finally, she grew too weak to talk and just lay there, looking at him.

He held her hand, knowing the end was coming soon.

A part of him railed at the unfairness of it all, that she should be robbed of her life when she just had the chance to truly live. But another part knew that she deserved peace, that she would not want to live out her days a mindless ragdoll of a person.

"I love you, Mum," he whispered then, and gently kissed her dry cheek.

When he pulled back to look into her eyes, he saw a sudden clarity in them that had not been there for months. His breath caught.

Slowly her hand closed about his, her grip delicate as a dove perching. "I remember you. I love you, Severus."

His heart began beating crazily. Maybe there was a chance she might get well.

But an instant later, the clarity was gone. Her eyes shut and she slipped into a coma.

He knew then she had come back just to say goodbye.

She never regained consciousness. He remained holding her hand, listening to her breath raggedly, until the raspy hush ceased, filling the room with silence.

Severus blinked, coming back to himself. He still remembered the dual feelings of sorrow and relief he had felt, sorrow because he had lost her forever, and relief that her suffering was ended. He was glad she had not lived to see him give into despair and walk a ways down the dark path before coming back to his senses. It would have grieved her greatly.

He smiled sadly and told her of his new familiar, the raven Skullduggery, whom he was sure would have made her laugh with his sarcastic wit. "You would have liked him. And now I am no longer alone."

He stood, stretching. "Well, it's another year. I need to be going; another old friend is waiting for me to pay my respects. Rest in peace."

Turning, he made his way out of the row and up several more, until he came to the grave of his old mentor from the Academy.

A/N: Hope I didn't make anyone cry too much, but something was nagging me to write this. In the next part you'll meet Severus' mentor. Please review and let me know how you liked this.