Author's Note: I didn't think so many people would be interested in this kind of story. I wrote it mainly for myself and just posted it to see if anyone else might possibly enjoy it and I've been pleasantly surprised. Again, thanks for the reviews. I really enjoy reading them.
And the bit about the names not being English, but the people speaking English, will be explained in further chapters. It's an idea I picked up from a book I've read and decided to use it.
A Memory Found
by: Mystical Dragon
Severus jerked awake, beads of sweat rolling down his face, as he slowly sat up, ignoring his aching muscles screaming in protest.
That last dream hadn't been scary, it had been quite nice actually. But the words his father had spoken left a bitter taste in Severus's mouth. "I'll love you and be proud of you no matter what you become."
Words he had spoken because Severus had been worried about being turned into a frog, like the boy in the story his father had just read to him, and felt his parents wouldn't love him if he was a frog instead of a little boy. But being a Death Eater was a far cry from being a frog and Severus doubted his parents would still love him if they found out what he had become.
Since it was nighttime Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, and Severus slid the left sleeve up of his robe to reveal the Dark Mark. The moon and starlight that filtered in through the windows was barely enough to see it by, but Severus didn't need to be able to see it very clearly to know exactly how it looked. The image of it had been burned into his brain at the same time it had been burned into his skin, at the age of sixteen, only a few months after that Whomping Willow incident. The Dark Lord normally didn't allow kids still at Hogwarts to get the Dark Mark but he had made a exception in Severus's case. Probably because of how much Severus hated Dumbledore for not doing anything to Black, Potter, or Lupin for their attempt to kill him. Though, if Lupin was too be believed, only Black was too blame for that. Severus wondered if that was true.
Severus pulled the covers back and climbed out of bed, putting a hand over the Dark Mark, as if covering it would make it go away. He had to get rid of it. His parents couldn't know he had it. What if they saw it? They wouldn't love him anymore.
Making his way, slowly, but as fast as he could, to a bathroom, Severus turned on the water to the deepest sink and stuck his arm under the scalding water. Grabbing a bar of soap, Severus scrubbed at the Dark Mark, intent on removing the thing. It wasn't working. The Mark stayed the same color as the surrounding skin was rubbed raw.
"Come on!" he muttered, looking around for stronger soap.
He spotted a green bar of soap and grabbed it. That was the strongest soap Hogwarts had. He started working on the Dark Mark carefully when he saw a hand encircle his wrist, the wrist that was attached to the arm with the foul mark on it.
"Stop it," said a soft voice next to him, a little below his shoulder.
Severus glanced down to see Draco, parts of him were still invisible, but face was white, too white. What was scaring Draco?
"I have to get it off," Severus confided in him, figuring Draco wouldn't want to tell him what was scaring him. "My parents can't see it. They won't like me anymore if they see it. Being a frog is okay but not this," Severus said, going back to scrubbing his arm some more.
"You're bleeding," Draco said softly. "You need to stop. That Mark isn't coming off. My father told me that the Dark Mark will never come off once you have it on."
Severus shook his head. "I have to get it off. They can't see it."
"Your parents?" Draco said carefully.
Severus nodded his head. "Yes. They can't know I have it. They won't like it."
"I thought...." Draco started, then swallowed, and then seemed to brace himself, "I thought you were abandoned in Knockturn Alley?"
Severus jerked his wrist out of Draco's hand and stared at him. How had Draco known that? Not even Dumbledore knew that. Severus had never told a single soul that. "NO!" he hissed. "I wasn't. My parents are dead. I'm an orphan. They died but they wanted me. I wasn't abandoned! I have to get this thing off before they see it."
Draco's eyes were strangely filling with tears, though Severus couldn't imagine why Draco would be crying. He never cried. Not even when he had been turned into that ferret and bounced around to everyone's amusement or slashed by that hippogriff. Severus would figure it out later, he had to get rid of his Dark Mark.
Severus stared back at the foul Mark. He had a dissolving potion in his office. That would work. The potion would get rid of it. Turning the water off, Severus hurried out of the bathroom and headed down to his office. Draco was right beside him, brushing at his eyes as they went.
Severus opened his office and rushed to the bottle with the dissolving potion.
"Accio bottle!" Draco barked. "Stupefy!" he roared before Severus could even react.
Draco, shaking, stared at his unconscious Head of House and swore that if he ever saw Karkaroff there wouldn't be anything left for the Dementor's to give the Kiss to.
Snape wasn't all there yet, Draco knew that. According to the books on the Cruciatus Curse, the ones that his father had and not the stupid ones that Pomfrey and those other fools would be reading, it took people a couple of weeks to start thinking straight all the time after the Curse had been done on them. Snape would have times when he would be perfectly coherent and then there would be times he would be out of it, like tonight.
But still, even with all his knowledge on the Cruciatus Curse, seeing what it did to people left Draco feeling physically ill. How could his father go around boasting about having used the Curse on people? Draco had always liked to hear those stories, never imagining he would get to see the effects of the Cruciatus Curse first hand. And what if Snape never recovered? It was a very real possibility. Draco just hoped Karkaroff hadn't been a very good wizard.
Draco wasn't surprised that Snape was a Death Eater, though. Seeing the Dark Mark on Snape's forearm just confirmed what Draco had always believed. Though Draco didn't know if Snape was still loyal to the Dark Lord or not. He certainly wasn't acting like it, trying to get rid of that Dark Mark and being ashamed of having it. That certainly wasn't what Draco had been taught to feel about the Dark Mark. It was an honor to have the thing branded into your forearm, not something to hide.
And why was Snape talking about having parents when he knew he had been abandoned. Draco guessed that if he had been abandoned he would want to make up a lie about being an orphan too. It was less painful than admitting to someone that your parents hadn't wanted you and left you to die. Which was what had happened to Snape. Draco had heard the whole story from one of the old shopkeepers in Knockturn Alley, the one whose shop Snape would sleep under after he had turned nine and got kicked out of the Knockturn Alley Orphanage to make room for some more kids that got sent there. The man would read books on the Dark Arts out loud to help Snape sleep at night, though Snape had never known that the man knew he was there. The old man had only told Draco that, not Draco's father, because he had heard how much Draco liked Snape. It was something Draco had never told anyone, not even Crabbe or Goyle, feeling that it was much too private.
And why was Snape saying his parents were dead and then worrying about what they would think of his Dark Mark? If they were dead they couldn't care. Draco hoped fervently that it was just a side-effect of the Curse and not because Snape was insane.
Sighing, Draco walked over Snape, bandaged his arm with a conjured shirt of Draco's, and then lifted Snape's head onto his lap and idly started to stroke his hair, ignoring the greasy feel, while he tried to think of what he should do.
Tell someone? If only Pomfrey had that book on the Cruciatus Curse that Draco had stolen from his father she would know how to treat Snape better. Draco bit his lip, looking down at Snape.
He could tear out the page that Draco's father had scribbled his name on and then give it to Pomfrey and hope that she didn't figure out how to trace it back to Draco, which was a real possibility. But helping Snape was more important than staying out of trouble, so Draco didn't really care if they did manage to trace the book back to him.
"You'll be all right, Professor," Draco assured him. "I'll get you back to the hospital wing and wake up Pomfrey to take care of your arm."
Draco conjured a stretcher and gently moved Snape on it, not liking how easy it was. Snape was a grown man and should have weighed much more than he did.
"I'm going to help Gregory and Vincent smuggle you food," Draco decided as he draped his invisibility cloak (a gift his father had given him this summer), over Snape's still form.
With a hand on the stretcher, Draco moved out of the dungeon and headed to the hospital wing. Rounding a corner, Draco froze.
Potter was standing there, with his own invisibility cloak half-on and half-off, with Lupin.
"Where's Professor Snape?" Lupin asked, his face worried. "Do you have any idea?" he asked, not even seeming to notice that Draco wasn't supposed to be wandering around Hogwarts in the middle of the night.
Draco opened his mouth to say something nasty but the words stayed stuck in his throat. As much as he hated these people if Snape didn't recover because Draco refused help that might have made a difference, Draco would never be able to forgive himself and he knew it.
"He's right here," Draco said, moving his invisibility cloak just enough for them to see Snape's black robe. "I followed him into the bathroom where he was trying to get rid of the...." Did they know?
"The Dark Mark?" Potter asked.
They did know. Draco glared at Potter, wondering how he had found out about it.
"Yes. He almost tried a dissolving potion on his arm but I got to him first. I stupefied him first," Draco admitted. "He kept babbling about how he had to get rid of it before his parents saw it. But..." Draco glanced at where the stretcher was. "He's.... I need to talk with Dumbledore," Draco said the name distastefully and winced.
Lupin looked at Potter. "Go get Dumbledore, Harry."
Potter nodded and ran off. Draco sneered at him as he went by and then turned his sneer on Lupin.
"I can take care of my Head of House," Draco said carefully. "Why don't you get Pomfrey?"
Lupin didn't protest and hurried off to find Pomfrey while Draco carefully walked the stretcher to the hospital wing, took the invisibility cloak off, lowered Snape onto the bed and then made the stretcher disappear.
Draco checked his arm. Draco's shirt had been white and he was relieved to see only a few dots of blood on the covering. Snape had only managed to rub his arm raw and not do any real damage. But why had he tried to get the Dark Mark off in the first place?
Draco moved his robe sleeve down on his left arm and looked at his unmarked flesh. How often had he stared at that forearm, imagining the Dark Mark gracing it? The Dark Lord didn't give the Dark Mark to kids under seventeen generally (he wanted them out of Hogwarts and away from Dumbledore first) and Draco had pleaded with his father all summer to convince the Dark Lord to make an exception in Draco's case. His father had promised to see what he could do about it. But now, as Draco stared at his arm, and at Snape's arm, he wondered if he wanted the thing. Of course he did, Draco chided himself.
Snape had only tried to get his off because he was half-insane but once he was back to normal he would realize what a stupid thing he had been about to do.
Pomfrey came bursting into the hospital wing, looking agitated and worried. Draco stepped aside and she quickly located a healing potion and correct bandages and wrapped the arm up.
"This is all my fault," Pomfrey muttered. "I shouldn't have left him here alone."
"He wasn't alone," Draco said, "A Slytherin was here with him all night. We took turns."
Pomfrey glanced at up and then at Lupin. "The Slytherins..."
"He's our Head of House," Draco said, cutting her off. "We'll take care of him."
Potter and Dumbledore came into the ward and Draco took a breath, not wanting to betray his Head of House like this but feeling he had no choice. They had to know what kind of delusion Snape was suffering from so they could help him.
"Draco?" Dumbledore said in his insufferable 'I know everything' voice.
"Professor Snape tried to get the Dark Mark off of himself," Draco said softly. "He said that his parents wouldn't approve of it, that they wouldn't like him anymore if they saw it. But he also said they were dead," Draco glanced down at Snape's face. "But you see, Professor Snape was abandoned on the streets of Knockturn Alley when he was three."
Draco forced himself to look back at everyone. Potter's mouth was half-opened, he then closed it, and Draco could see sympathy in every line of his face. Draco clenched his fists. Snape didn't need sympathy from the Boy-Who-Lived. Lupin was staring at Snape with a very sad expression. What right did a werewolf have to feel sorry for anybody? Pomfrey had her face turned away, looking over something but Draco imagined her expression would be like Lupin's. Dumbledore's expression hadn't changed at all.
"Draco," Dumbledore said again, "I'm very pleased that you have chosen to be so cooperative. I know you don't like any of us and I'm very grateful you can put aside your dislike to help Severus out."
Draco flushed a tiny bit, not used to getting praise from anyone but Snape and the other Slytherins. "I just want him to get better."
"So do I," Dumbledore said heavily.
"So Hermione couldn't be right, then?" Potter said. "If Snape was abandoned at the age of three, then he couldn't possibly remember anything that had happened to him so young, even if a memory charm had been lifted during the Cruciatus Curse."
Draco listened to Potter, his mind whirling around. Could Snape have had a memory charm lifted? But, Potter was right, as usual. Draco, at fifteen, didn't remember anything before the age of five. So how would Snape, at thirty-six, possibly remember something before the age of three?
"No," Dumbledore said gently, "I already told Lupin it was impossible but he didn't want to believe me."
Lupin looked away from Snape. "I was hoping," he said, his voice shaking a bit. "I'm going to go to bed," he said abruptly and left, Potter following after him. They both looked upset, which angered Draco.
Pomfrey went in the back room, gathering together some supplies, out of earshot.
"He's a Death Eater," Draco told Dumbledore, feeling almost justified. "Did you know that?"
Dumbledore sat on the bed next to Snape's and watched Snape's chest rise and fall for awhile. "I know. He came to me when he was eighteen about it, hoping I would kill him."
Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"
Dumbledore looked up at Draco. "He was ashamed of what he had become."
Draco glared at Dumbledore but didn't say anything.
Dumbledore seemed to shake himself awake and turned to Draco. "Draco, you must promise me that you won't tell anyone about what I'm about to tell you."
"I won't," Draco said.
Dumbledore's face was hard, radiating a power that Draco flinched at seeing. "I promise," Draco muttered and meant it.
"Severus became a spy for me, Draco," Dumbledore informed him. "And when Voldemort rose again this summer, he became my spy again. That is why Karkaroff tortured him. Karkaroff wanted to give Severus to Voldemort and tell him what Severus had done, to insure his own welcome back into the fold."
"Why was Professor Snape a spy?" Draco asked, confused.
"Because he realized that Voldemort was evil, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly. "Severus never had anyone tell him what was wrong and what was right. He had to figure it out for himself and he made plenty of mistakes along the way. He's still making mistakes but he's trying. Kind of like you."
Draco snapped his head around. "What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Your father has told you Voldemort is a hero, Draco, and you have believed him. You haven't yet begun to think for yourself but I'm hoping you will soon. Quit following your parents blindly, Draco. Open up your eyes and see what Voldemort is all about. Your following Voldemort can be excused thus far because you, like most children, believe what your parents tell you is correct but it is time you started to think for yourself and question what they have told you. Talk to Severus.... when he's better... about it. He'll understand how difficult it is to figure out what is wrong and what is right when you have to ignore the examples of those around you and search for it on your own."
Draco slowly sank onto the Snape's bed, feeling slightly sick. He had begun questioning, already, hadn't he? Ever since he had seen what the Cruciatus Curse had done to Snape.
"Why did Professor Snape say he has parents? He got very angry when I told him he had been abandoned."
Dumbledore glanced back at Snape. "Severus has always been very ashamed of being abandoned, Draco. I knew, simply because when he came to me when he was eighteen, I found out as much as I could about him but he has never told me so himself. He feels he must have done something to deserve it. Severus has spent much of his life trying to become famous for something so people will respect him and notice him."
Draco stared at Dumbledore, wondering why the old man looked so sad. "You don't think that will work? But people respect famous people."
Dumbledore sighed tiredly. "Draco, Severus just wants someone to love him. He may believe he wants to become famous but he doesn't. He just wants someone, it would only take one person I'm sure, to notice him, to love him, to want him."
"What about you?" Draco asked. "Couldn't you be his father or something?"
Dumbledore glanced away, his eyes wet. "He doesn't trust me, Draco. Nor does he believe I care for him. He just thinks I'm using him. Severus has been hurt so many times that he's not willing to trust anyone, anymore. I'm afraid, Draco, it's too late. Maybe if someone had just noticed him when he was younger things would be different but no one did and now he's too full of anger and hate to let anyone in. I failed him," he choked out.
Dumbledore got up and made his way out of the ward, leaving Draco to sit there and think.
"Even if no one else does, I like you," he told the unconscious man. "And so do some of the other Slytherins. Vincent and Gregory really like you, though they think you are too skinny. Pansy likes you quite a bit too. Blaise even sort of likes you but you know Blaise. He's so obsessed with outdoing Newt Scamander so he can be the world's foremost authority on magical creatures that he doesn't have time to like or dislike anyone. And I won't tell father you're a spy or anything like that."
Draco got up and touched Snape's cheek with the back of his hand. It was cold. Grabbing an extra blanket off another bed, Draco tucked it around Snape's form, and then settled on a chair and started to read a book, out loud, Draco had brought on potions and elixirs.
Gregory came to relieve Draco but Draco wouldn't go and neither would Gregory.
Severus laid there, listening, as his heart pounded in his chest. He had woken up about the time Draco had told Dumbledore he was a Death Eater and had listened to their conversation that followed. Severus had never really thought that Dumbledore might feel guilty about anything but he had sounded so... upset. And Draco. Draco had promised not to tell his father about Severus being a spy, even though Draco would be handsomely rewarded for information like that. And how had Draco found out about it anyway? Severus didn't remember ever telling him that.
And now Draco and Gregory were fighting because neither one of them wanted to leave him. Had he been wrong about no one caring about him?
Severus swallowed, as he slipped back into sleep and his dreams.
"Of course I will love you," his father said as Severus pointed at the frog in the storybook.
"But what if I can only croak?" Severus asked, upset.
His father laughed, and wrapping his arms around Severus, closed the book. "Jacenty, I will love you no matter what happens to you."
"What if I turn into a fly and try to eat all your food?" Severus asked him, craning his neck to be able to see his father's face.
The man stared at him, his face crinkled in amusement. "That's the problem with reading you stories," he said, touching the tip of Severus's nose, "you take them too seriously. I'll love you even if you turn into fly and eat all my food. Take this book away, Vasya. Jacenty is convinced I won't love him if he becomes a frog."
Vasya came into sight, wearing a very heavy looking dark green robe with gold thread making leaf patterns on it, and smiled. "Jacek, are you worried about becoming a frog?"
Severus nodded his head. "Yes," he said, seriously. "You don't like frogs."
Vasya quit smiling and knelt down next to Severus. "Jacek, there is nothing you can do, or become, that will make me or your father quit loving you. We may not always be happy with your choices, or with what you have become, be it a frog or anything else, but we will still love you."
"Promise?" Severus asked.
"Promise," Vasya said and kissed him on the forehead.
Severus jerked awake again. Would his parents still love him if they knew he had become a Death Eater? But there was no chance of them knowing. They were both dead. But still, it bothered Severus. He had never had anyone to disappoint with his actions before and felt ashamed that he might have done it. Severus shook his head. His parents were dead. They couldn't be ashamed of him.
"Are you hungry?" came a voice to his right.
Severus looked over there. Gregory Goyle was standing next to him, smiling, while Draco was sleeping on the bed next to Severus's.
"He's been here all night," Gregory said, glancing over at Draco too. "Me, Vincent, Millicent, Pansy, Thayer, Duncan, and Olivia were taking turns watching you. Draco was supposed to only take one turn but he apparently didn't like that idea."
Severus smiled as he stared at Gregory's open face. He hoped dearly that nothing happened to Gregory or Vincent in the upcoming struggle with Voldemort. Their parents had managed to survive Voldemort's first ascent to power so maybe their kids would survive his second. Severus hoped so.
"Are you hungry?" Gregory asked again. "I could smuggle you in some food," he said softly, making sure Pomfrey wasn't around.
"I'd like that," Severus said, feeling his stomach rumble a tiny bit.
Gregory looked very pleased. "Good. I'll be right back."
Severus then looked back at Draco. He was still asleep, his normally slicked back hair falling all over his pale and pointed face.
"Draco?" Severus called softly.
Draco bolted out of bed and landed on the floor with a soft thud. "You okay?" he asked, his eyes wide opened and his hair a mess.
"I'm fine," Severus said. "What happened last night? Why did Dumbledore tell you I was a... Death Eater?"
Draco ran a hand through his hair, to tame it. "You don't remember?" he said carefully, too carefully.
"No," Severus said slowly. "What did I do?"
Draco grinned. "Just went into the girl's bathroom, is all. Good thing it was at night."
Severus's face turned slightly red. "I did?"
"Oh, don't worry," Draco said, trying to get a tangle out with his fingers, "I rescued you. Then you went into your office. I had to stupefy you then. I was afraid you would hurt yourself in your half-awake state and make some sort of crazy potion that ate fingernails."
"Is that all?" Severus asked, looking at Draco intently.
But Draco was concentrating on smoothing out his robes. "Yes," he said idly.
Severus was slightly relieved. Either Draco was a very good actor or nothing had happened last night.
"But why did Dumbledore tell you I was a Death Eater?" Severus asked. "Or, why did you tell him?"
Draco shrugged. "In your office you broke a bottle of beetle eyes and you hurt your arm on the broken glass. I lifted your sleeve up and saw the Dark Mark. I'm sorry."
"That's okay," Severus mumbled.
"Dumbledore was here this morning," Draco said softly. "He wants you to see Trelawney this afternoon for a..... for a counseling session."
Severus's eyes snapped back to Draco. "What?"
Draco shrugged. "That's what he said. He'll be by about three to take you there himself. I wanted to take you but Dumbledore feels I should practice Quidditch today instead. Slytherin versus Gryffindor is tomorrow, you know."
Severus had forgotten about that. "I'll watch," Severus said quietly, wondering why Trelawney of all people would be giving him a counseling session.
She was the Divination Professor not a counseling witch.
Gregory came back with Vincent and between the two of them they had managed to carry in a ton of food. They divided this up between the four of them and they all started to eat.
"Longbottoms worried about you," Vincent said, chewing on a large roll. "He asked me if you were any better today. Wondered if you were remembering people yet. Are you?"
Severus ate some thick soup, wondering what to do about Longbottom. The boy's parents had been tortured to insanity by some of the people Severus had hung out with at school and Severus couldn't look at the boy without feeling stabbing feelings of guilt wash over him. He guessed that was one reason why he was so mean to him. Trying to cover up his feelings. But there was nothing he could have done. He hadn't known, for sure, that the Lestranges were Death Eaters. Vague suspicions that he had dutifully reported to Dumbledore but that was it. He hated the Dark Lord.
"Yeah," Severus replied distracted, "I recognize people."
Should he see Longbottom so Longbottom would know he was okay?
After the food was cleared away, Severus turned to Gregory.
"Can you ask Longbottom to see me for a second?"
Gregory nodded his head and left with Vincent.