Chapter 9- Memories, Memories
He would never be the first to admit that something was off or wrong about him. It was a month and weeks into the school year and Severus had not seemed to fit into his yearly niche in Hogwats. He seemed out of place here, like he was floating above his own body in a daze. Severus wondered if this could have been because his mind was on other things than his profession…like the vex.
How was Dumbledore's request so simple? What was the trickery in asking Severus to do, what he continued to do year after year…teach. Did Dumbledore perhaps think that Severus would want to continue life doing something else?
It was true, as Thena had mentioned the first night upon meeting Severus that he had been in the papers and was being very well known in the wizardry world. He refused to go to Hogstmead every time the students went for the very sake of being recognized and bombarded with questions.
"Why did you decide to sacrifice your life for Potter?" The a member from the crowd that surrounded him asked, during the first trip to Hogstead.
"Do you have any reservations about teaching back at Hogwats, with your new-found fame and recognition?" A reporter from the Daily Prophet followed him as he pushed his way through the crowd. The reporter didn't even so much as miss a beat as he then asked,
"How did you survive the attack from Voldemort's snake?"
He was not use to this attention in the slightest and was so thankful that Hogwats was off limits to any press.
After the first week of gawking and outlandish questions blurted out by students (which he had so diligently shot down), everything seemed to return to normal. The admiration or curiosity they felt about their notorious Professor Snape had vanished as soon as he popped the superhero-persona bubble the media had given them. Now they just groaned in response to his lecture. They groaned in disapproval. They gasped, astonished at the magic he would perform and the remarks he would make. And they didn't approach him anymore about the papers and with side remarks about Harry Potter.
He was just a professor and no more.
On this very day, during breakfast, Severus had heard that Potter would be writing a book or rather a book was being written about Potter. It would be a sort of autobiographical about the magic Potter had become familiar with and used to defeat the Dark Lord. It would pay tribute to those who were slayed in the process which made Severus nervous in his participation in the book.
It was the most peculiar thing, but since being back at Hogwats, he had not thought of the moments before the attack from the snake. Lily Potter did not cross his mind.
Before the war of all that was good and all that was evil, Severus had thought of Lily and her demise almost constantly. Now since the Dark Lord perished, her death felt well justified. But it sickened Severus to admit that she was no longer in his daily thoughts…He felt wrong about it. Guilty.
Only three people knew about what he had felt about Lily, and one, Dumbledore, was no more. Severus hoped the boy wouldn't mention it or him at all, in this book being written.
Harry Potter did not cross Serveus's mind either now. Nor did he know just how he felt about Harry.
He had heard Harry had visited him many times while he was recovering from the attack, which made Severus feel an odd sense of loyalty and pride towards the boy…proud that the events were behind both of them, through the courage that Potter and his peers showed.
But as Severus gain consciousness he had heard Potter had gone on a trip and hadn't heard from him since. But Severus did not mind to not be able to hatch out and rekindle memories with the boy…He seemed to never see eye to eye with the boy until the day that Severus was attacked and Harry knelt by his side.
Even current events that would normally be a huge stress, like Granger taking over Potions- these did not cross his mind either. His mind was on other things…
Then the young woman walked in the door. She was wearing a cream dress of lace, tall black boots, and a red cape with a hood draped across her head.
Did she ever wear something that didn't cause people to stare? Severus wondered.
Both of them had a lot of similarities in background. Both of them were half-bloods, their mothers being the source of magic. Both had a considerable amount of respect and dedication to their professions, even though he could hardly understand and respect her's. She also seemed to be unscathed by his constant berating of her. Just like he, she didn't need other's approval to continue on.
But Severus couldn't seem to get past the differences of their behaviors. This young lady could not hold her emotions balanced, so much that it was almost like a switch. If an emotion overpowered her, she would make it known. Except for recent interactions, those of which he couldn't tell what she was thinking.
And surely she craved attention, by the way she dressed…bright colors, different textures…The way she wore fitted clothes far more than any professional woman Severus had ever seen before. They weren't too revealing…no, she wore things like lace and things draped just above the knee, hanging to her breasts and hips just slightly, to lure one in…He wondered how many men had touched her, how many men must have fallen before her… bedded her even…
To have skin so meek and flawless and to wear such delicate clothes gave the impression of innocence, but he noticed the body the cloth is so attentively wrapped around…He remembered how that body felt in his hands, what she smelled like…that her skin felt tissue thin, that he felt like he could rip her if he continued to do…what he wanted to…
He shook this out of his sick mind as she took a seat and started rubbing her head.
She was exhausted and felt ill. It had to be the Promis potion. Even still, Thena felt optimistic. She had relived one memory from her past, and a significant one at that. She woke up the next morning with an enormous headache, but still in a comfortable bubble from a dream she had, had, but could not remember.
What Thena had started to remember was a little bit of French and a little bit of magic she had learned a while back. The memories of speaking French and being in school to learn these spells, wasn't flooding back.
The most peculiar thing was it was the memory of the two people, the man and the woman, talking about these things that seemed to reassure her brain she knew them, almost like the Placebo Effect.
It was not just flooding back though and Thena was anxious, willing to find out more.
An owl had come to Thena that morning, it's letter read, but a simple message:
"Friday. 9. –Severus Snape"
Thena thought it was peculiar to get mail from someone that was a little ways down the hall. Thena was even convinced she could feel Severus pause at her door or have a notion to talk to her, which, of course, was never proved correct….which, of course, was just a premonition. Nevertheless, she sensed that Severus wanted to continue on too with their exercises. Whether it was for academic and ego gain or that he would never have any reason to be in close proximity with her again, Thena didn't know.
The week carried on, dragging in the beginning of a bitter winter season. The snow was taking an eternity to hit the ground. It was like it was just too cold for winter to take place. The sun was still out, but the never ending cold wind nipped at all that dared to go outside. All the students took longer routes getting to their classes, not willing to brave the freezing whip of air, that threated and teased the shutters on the outside of windows…that made the castle hiss and grown constantly, if all was quiet enough to listen. Friday was a cold day.
Thena felt like skipping all her sessions today and just waiting till the clock chimed nine, to continue to learn about herself. She knew this thought was highly irresponsible, but she could hardly concentrate on what her students were talking to her about while being taken over by this feeling of curiosity about her past.
While Thena was changing into a bit warmer clothing, before leaving for Professor Snape's office (a longer black dress, with red tights, and of course her favorite red winter flock), she was starting to assume information about herself from just the first mind exercise.
Thena knew her mother was French and was the one who processed magic. She knew her mother had died, by the hands of a future Death Eater no less. Thena could remember the exact details of her mother's death, but had seen it in a vision when she was 8 years of age. She just shuddered now to even think about it. Her father, the muggle doctor, rarely spoke of her mother. He had a justified notion to, no doubt, the reason being he lost his beloved wife to the greedy hands of her secret lover, Henry Barloux.
When he did talk about her mother, it was only in the denial that she was part of that world in the first place. Thena gathered very early on that her father blamed his magical inabilities as the cause of the affair, but Thena knew otherwise. Her mother was an impulsive spit-fire, driven only by human emotions. She was irresponsible and could not be tamed. Thena's father was a doctor, who spent a lot of time away from home doing academic studies.
Thena's mother couldn't wait to break free from routine. Thena could recognize this in a mere photograph on the mantel. The woman's smile was supple, her beauty, genuine. Her fair skin, effortless, without sin… But her eyes…rough, harsh, burning…
When Thena was younger she sought this woman as glamorous...She couldn't remember one conversion with this woman, of course, but knew that photo very well. Her clothes in the photo were fitted and tailored…
She knocked on the door. This time it popped open right away.
"Hello Professor." Thena greeted him. He held her eyes from across the room, before glancing back at a cauldron he was standing above.
"Good Evening Madam." He placed a few drops of the liquid into a small flask. "Have you since thought of the memory we have...uncovered."
Thena knew he was speaking of the white room and being ten years old, but a memory of his hands running up and down her body flashed through her suddenly.
"Yes I have. I don't think it's enough to free the magic I do have, but I am starting to put together some French sentences and simple spells I remember."
"What I mean to say is, do you know who those people were?"
"Well I couldn't see very well."
"Yes, I believe they used a form of a stupefying mechanism on you. The woman, I have gathered, is Cassandra Trelawney. She was the great grandmother of a professor we had here that also had visions of Harry Potter, before his birth. The man, I do not recognize. I do believe you were in a facility administered by the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry, just like any organization, has had a…dark past. Even recently, a year ago…However this reasoning does not qualify how…wrongly you were treated. Has any other memories come to mind?"
"No. I don't believe so…"
Severus looked at her almost questioning her response, but silently gave her the small flask. She drank the sharp cold air, the Promis potion and then asked,
"Professor, when you relive these memories with me, do you see them exactly how I do?"
He seemed confused by this question. "Yes…they are your memories. Not mine." He sneered.
"I mean, how much of it can you actually observe? Do you hear my current thoughts? Or rather even… emotions?"
"I cannot hear how you are reacting…currently. However I am to have the memory with you and whatever physical effects your…body remembers." He glanced at her dress, but it was like he saw right through her. It wasn't lust or really any human emotion…it was like Severus Snape was a ghost of a man.
"Very well." She finally decided to respond and sat at the same armchair by the flicking fire, withdrawing her coat.
"Anousse cabera, aloon tava."
And then to her right side:
"Anousse cabera, aloon tava."
Thena didn't even feel Severus come in front of her, nor did she hear him utter the spell a third time before she was spiraling in darkness…then blankness…
There was screaming… A woman screaming and wailing in pain…
"Stup! S'il vous…Je t'aime…S'il vous pait!
"Stop! Will you…I love you. Please!"
Thena's mind translated the French quickly.
A woman came to view, her hair clinging to her face, wet. Thena could feel her own face was wet with tears.
The woman was crawling on the floor a way from a very big man with a brown beard. The man quickly grabbed hold of her wrist, while she let out another scream and dragged her into a room with a big window.
"You always leave." He said, in a quiet, harsh whisper.
"She needs me…they both need me."
"You cannot leave." He said. He shoved her down in front of the window and pointed a wand at her.
"No!" The woman wailed, "Henry! No!"
Thena gasped and could feel her own screams shout out, "Mama!"
"Avada Kedavr!" The man bellowed. A green steak of light went through the end of his wand and into her mother's chest. The force threw her through the big window. And she fell, dead, to the ground underneath.
Thena was spiraling again as she found her way back at home, at her Father's house.
"Thena, my little girl, where are you?" A woman called.
"Mama?" She could hear herself respond. It was not her voice, but a voice that was much smaller. She greeted the woman and was compelled to hug her, smelling her expensive perfume, feeling her curly blonde hair tickle her nose.
"Hello." A familiar voice bellowed. It was the man with the coarse, brown beard. Instantly, she fell to her knees in shock and started wailing while in tears.
"What is wrong my Love?" Her mother knelt in front of her, her face filled with concerned. "Did you miss me so?" She held out her hands to give Thena another hug.
Thena received this hug willingly and riffled through the woman's right pocket.
"Are you looking for your present?"
"No Mama." Thena drew out a wand from the pocket and pointed it towards the man.
"What is going on?" Her mother seemed surprised.
"What is the meaning of this?" The man looked to her mother. The woman shrugged her shoulders, apologetically. As her mother looked back at Thena, Thena saw her lifeless dead corpse spread out on the ground far below the room with the big window.
"Thena, this is my friend, Henry." The woman ushered towards her to retrieve the wand. Thena felt herself back up and continue to point the wand at the man.
"Avada Kedavra!" She could hear herself scream.
The room spiraled again to black and then to blankness. This time the blankness did not disappear. Images flashed before Thena's eyes. A fire, a court yard with tall trees, a cobble stone path, Severus…Severus was walking towards her now until he stood in front of her. She felt bare and glanced down to see she had no clothes on. Severus looked at her body, not furious with her, but stared at her blankly, looking past her.
She was waiting for something. He walked towards her carefully, like she was going to harm him. He then so gentle grabbed her face and kissed her, intently…fully. It was not mistaken between the two that he wanted her and wanted to show her how much…
She grabbed at his clothes, ready and willing to see what they had started… A crimson color surrounded them.
"tava stamos!" She started spirally again and quickly opened her eyes to Severus Snape.
"What.." She began to question.
"How are you seeing that without magic?" He cut her off. Severus clutched the arms to the chair she was sitting in, his face leaning into her's.
"I did not hear you even so much as mutter a spell." Severus snared.
His face had gone pain. She could feel his breath on her, his eyes blazing into her's.
"I…But that didn't happen. I have no idea…That was not a memory of mine."
He stared at her still, as if to test her honesty…Then he quickly rose and opened the door.
"Let me remind you, Madam that we are here to retrieve your memory... Not to indulge in trickery…My time is valuable…it will not be used to play a game."
Thena was frozen in her chair.
"I have no idea what any of this… is about Professor!"
Severus, seeming deep in thought stared at the floor boards near him. She stood up and walked to the door, suddenly enraged.
She stopped to look at him. Thena waited till his eyes reached her's.
"I appreciate your time, Professor…but please know I do not have any idea what that was about, nor did I evoke it."
He said nothing.
"Good night, Professor."
