A Memory Found
by: Mystical Dragon
Remus could do nothing but stare at the man as Dimitrius struggled to compose himself.
"You murdered them?" Dumbledore questioned, his voice unbelieving.
Dimitrius opened his eyes, a steely glint in them. "Yes, I murdered them. I had no choice."
"There's always a choice!" Sirius growled, sounding quite like his Animagus dog form.
The man laughed, a grating sound, harsh, and devoid of any amusement. "I'm glad you believe in that fairy tale."
"Why did you have to murder Snape's parents?" Harry asked, his tone incredulous.
Dimitrius looked over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were staring at him with bewildered and shocked faces. Especially Harry, whose own father had been betrayed by a friend of his. McGonagall and Molly had their hands to their mouths, both looked appalled. Remus was struggling with his own expression, not wanting to look too disgusted with the man before he knew the story.
"We lived in a country with a very rigid social structure. A person didn't move out of the class they were born to. The peasants, naturally, were on the bottom and treated like animals, then came the craftsmen, then the nobles, then the high-ranking military men, and the Emperor.
"Cezar Raskov was Emperor Istvan's General. Basically he was the second in command of our country. A more brilliant military mind I have never met nor read about. Cezar, at the age of fifteen, was given command of an army, his father's army, when his father was murdered on the battlefield. The rebels didn't kill Cezar, not thinking that a fifteen year old could do them much damage and besides his father had trained him and Cezar's father wasn't that good of a General. They were sadly mistaken. Cezar earned the nickname 'The Slaughterer' that day."
"What was a fifteen year old doing on a battlefield?" Molly asked.
"Training," Dimitrius said softly. "Cezar had done mock military skirmishes before and his father believed he was ready for the real thing. A General needs field experience and that was what Cezar was given.
"I was raised by a noblewoman but I was not born one. When I was eight there was a famine in our country and the peasants, my people, were the hardest hit, of course. The famine actually wasn't that bad, the entire country could have made it through if the nobles had had brains in their heads. But nobles are famous for being brainless. We were lower than dogs to them and they took our food without even thinking of how we were going to survive. They could do magic and we couldn't so we couldn't even defend ourselves. My little sister died that year, from starvation, and my father went crazy. He tried to find food, food to feed his family with, and he was murdered for it.
"A noblewoman came to our house and asked my mother to give her one of us so she could have a son again. The woman's husband and son had died, from one of the illnesses that often plagued our country. Now when I noble asks a peasant something, the peasant has no choice but to do it or suffer death. I, seeing more than just one opportunity, quickly agreed to do it. I sent home food and clothing for my family and learned magic. I was forbidden to tell anyone that I was a peasant because the noblewoman could get into a quite a bit of trouble for pretending a peasant was a noble but things worked out and no one found out.
"Cezar and I met at school. We both went to Stribog Academy, the country's school, and went into the military house there. I never told him I was born a peasant, but I always remembered it. Cezar was training to become a General for the Emperor, like his father, and I was training to win the peasants freedom."
"Not a good match," Arthur softly whistled.
"You're telling me," Dimitrius said, his voice tired. "We got into an unbelievable amount of arguments over our different beliefs but neither of us could change the other's opinion. Cezar was very loyal. He believed each person was born to their station in life, the class they were born into, for a reason and it was their duty to accept it and make the most of it and he, and no one else, had any business challenging it. I didn't believe it. I firmly believed that people were equal and should be treated as such. And if they weren't, they had the right to fight to gain that equality."
"Sounds like he was just saying that so he could enjoy being a noble," Moody growled.
Dimitrius shook his head. "No. Cezar hated being a General. He hated the training, he hated the theory, he hated everything about his position, he couldn't stand it. His love was painting and drawing and he was a wonderful artist. I still have many of his works."
"Then why did he do it?" Hermione asked. "Why didn't he quit being a General and become an artist?"
"I told you. Cezar believed a person had a duty to fulfill the station they were born to. He was the General's son and it was a hereditary position. It didn't matter than he hated being a General, it was his duty to be a General, and he was the best General he could be. Being an artist was something he did in his spare time. Cezar wasn't a hypocrite, he lived what he believed. And that was why I had to kill him. The older I got the more I realized there was no chance of changing the system through any means but a revolt of the peasants. And Cezar had to go. With him around the revolt wouldn't have stood a chance. As it was, even with him gone, it took twelve years of fighting to gain our freedom. And about ten years more to firmly root it down."
"Why were you after Severus?" Dumbledore asked, as Remus tried to digest everything that Dimitrius was saying.
"I was afraid that Cezar's child would turn out to have his military mind. I couldn't afford to take the chance that the child would come and topple us over. We barely managed to win the freedom and it was something that I knew could be taken from us rather easily. We were just very lucky that our country was unplottable, between Hungary, Romania, and the Ukraine, and nearly everyone on this planet has forgotten about us. Having no outsiders joining either side helped quite a bit. But Cezar's child wouldn't be an outsider and I was very worried about him or her gaining allies and coming back to take revenge. That was why we were searching for him or her until it became clear that we didn't have to worry anymore and it wouldn't matter if he or she did come back. We were too strong by that time and the nobles had been about all killed off."
"You didn't know if Cezar had a boy or girl?" Hermione asked softly.
Remus glanced over at the kids. They still looked confused, but thoughtful too.
Dimitrius shook his head. "No. Cezar knew there was an unrest among the peasants. I was teaching them basic magic to help in the revolt and word of that got around. He knew he might be a target and he wanted to keep his child safe so he never told anyone, but Ivan I guess, that he and Vasya had a child. We planned the attack on him very carefully. Our activity slowed down quite a bit for about six months before the attack and we attacked both him and the Emperor on the same night. We killed the Emperor and his entire family and tried to kill Cezar and his entire family. I came into the house and put an iron collar around Ivan that had many spells embedded into it. Spells that prevented him from turning into his real shape, or apparating, and doing any magic and went after Cezar. I slowly went through the house and killed Cezar as he slept. Not very romantic or heroic, I know, but Cezar could beat me in a duel every time and it wasn't a chance I was willing to take. Vasya woke immediately, threw a knife in my leg, the wound has never healed, and ran to get her daught.. her son. I called for help and the others stormed the house. Vasya got away, killing three of us in the process. She must have put an illusion charm on Severus because everyone thought she had a little girl in her arms.
"I don't regret what I did, but I do regret having to do it," Dimitrius said. "My children can learn magic and I don't have to worry about them starving to death while some noble lets food rot in their pantry. I saved more people than I murdered."
"Wasn't there some other way..." Arthur said softly.
Dimitrius shook his head. "No. Either the nobles had Cezar's opinion on the matter or they were too consumed with the lust of power to ever want to change. It's not just the power hungry you have to watch out for in a corrupt system, it's those that support it."
"Would Snape have been raised to be a General?" Ron asked.
Dimitrius nodded his head. "Yes."
Dumbledore shook himself. "I'm going to have to think about all that you have to told me. But I asked you here to find Severus. He's with the Death Eaters, the Lestranges, and is there anyway to find him?"
"Only if Ivan will let you," Dimitrius said. "And he is not happy. I didn't dare take that iron collar off him that night but he somehow found a way to get it off. He nearly killed me when he came back but he relented. He understands why I did what I did and he can't fault me for it. But now I understand why he was so upset. He was worried about Severus. I know he's been wandering around the world since that time. I just didn't realize he was trying to find someone."
"Severus mentioned something about calling to him?"
Dimitrius nodded his head. "To call a Dark Elf, you say their name and then you say come here. Ivan, come here, is how you would call Ivan. But he's only going to show if wants to."
Remus rubbed his neck, feeling his head tighten. This was a mess.
"We have got to find Severus," Dumbledore said heavily. "Can Emerald locate Ivan?"
Emerald shook her head. "Don't worry. Ivan will take good care of Jacenty. Jacenty is his, not yours."
Dumbledore jerked back, as if slapped. "What?"
Emerald looked patiently at him. "I know you care for Jacenty, I can tell, but Cezar and Vasya gave Jacenty to Ivan. Ivan," she said, turning to Dimitrius, "told me so. He told me about his Jacenty and how he had to find him. I've been helping Ivan try to find him for years. Jacenty is Ivan's responsibility, not yours. He is where he needs to be know, in Ivan's hands. None of you need to worry about him."
"I can't trust him to Dark Elf!" Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "He's my..."
"He is not your responsibility," Emerald stopped him. "He is Ivan's."
"That's not fair," McGonagall interrupted. "Severus needs to be here, where he belongs."
"He is where he needs to be," Emerald insisted. "With Ivan. Jacenty has no parents now, no relatives either, Dimitrius killed them all, he only has Ivan."
"He has us," Dumbledore said.
"But he doesn't trust us," Remus said, his voice tired. "You've been working with him since he was eighteen and haven't gotten anywhere, maybe Ivan can succeed where we couldn't."
Dumbledore opened his mouth when Hermione spoke up.
"Where's Draco?"
Remus looked over there. Draco was gone and the door, Draco had been sitting the closest to it, was slightly opened.
"Get the map," Sirius said as Arthur got up and closed the door.
Dumbledore conjured the Marauder's Map and slumped in his chair, throwing the map on the table. "He's not on it."
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Draco threw himself into the nearest bathroom, and after making sure that no one was in it, started to do something he had never done before, beg.
"Please, Ivan, come here! I need to talk with you! Please Ivan, come here!" Draco begged, nearly crying.
A blue elf, like Emerald but with purple eyes, appeared on the sink in front of him. "Yes, Draco?" the creature said, his voice silky.
"Bring Snape back," Draco said.
Ivan shook his head. "No, but you could go to him."
Draco narrowed his eyes. Being a Slytherin, and around Slytherins, had trained him to detect when people were trying to set up a deal.
"What do you want?" Draco asked.
Ivan grinned, showing his sharp little teeth. "To turn you, only physically, into a child. A child of seven."
"What?" Draco said softly. "Why?"
"Jacenty likes you and you like Jacenty. Your ages, in the human world, prevents you from being very close, but this way you could be very close. You would both be seven, both have the same parents, both live in the same house."
"You want me to be his brother?" Draco suddenly realized. "The Lestranges would never go for it."
Ivan shrugged. "They will if I tell them too."
Draco bit his lower lip, thinking. It would only be for eight days. Eight years would go by where he was but only eight days in the real world. And Draco had always wanted a brother, and a friend, and he had, more than once, wished that Snape was going to school with him so they could be friends. Vincent and Gregory were nice but they were best friends with each other and Draco, more often than not, felt like a third wheel and neither Vincent or Gregory liked to have conversations that meant anything. They preferred wrestling, eating, and making silly jokes.
"Okay," Draco said.
Ivan grinned and Draco found himself in a bedroom, a child's bedroom. "Your bedroom," Ivan said, handing him a steaming goblet that had suddenly appeared in his hand.
Before he could lose his nerve, Draco drained it. A tickling sensation went up from his toes to his head and then he hiccuped. Ivan pointed a finger at him and Draco looked down to see his robes shrinking to fit his smaller frame.
"I will tell Florence and Nathan, you wait here," Ivan said and left with a crack.
Swallowing, Draco went to sit at the child sized table and looked around. Bookcases, cabinets, a puppet show, a bed, and a large rug to play on. Normal kid things.
"Dumbledore's going to kill me when I get back," Draco muttered as he stared at the table top. The alphabet was around the perimeter of it. "Not to mention my father."
But Potter always got away with everything so Draco didn't see why, this time, he shouldn't get away with something. And besides Draco was in his element. The Lestranges were Death Eaters, his parents were Death Eaters, and Draco had always wanted to be a Death Eater. But not anymore and Draco was going to make sure that no one turned Snape into a Death Eater.
Draco stood up when the door opened and Mr. Lestrange came in, shutting the door behind him and looking at Draco, his expression unreadable.
"So, you're Malfoy's brat, eh?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "No, I'm your brat."
The man's face broke into a grin. "So I've just been informed. Normally I would have killed you but Lucius mentioned quite often how fond you were of Severus. And Ivan won't let me. I guess it can't hurt if Severus gets a brother. He likes the idea, actually. Very excited," his face hardened. "You be nice to him, do you understand me?" he said, his voice harsh.
"I will be," Draco promised.
The man didn't like the idea, Draco could tell, but apparently he knew better than to cross Ivan and he reluctantly opened the door to let Draco out.
"Severus is in the living room with his mum, waiting. He's shy so don't overwhelm him."
Draco absently nodded his head as he made his way down the hallway. Catching sight of a woman, Draco hurried his step and entered the living room, spotting Snape. He was sitting, half hidden in Mrs. Lestrange's robes, on the couch. Draco carefully walked over and sat near him on the couch. Mr. Lestrange took the cushioned rocking chair. Ivan was standing near the kitchen, a grin on his face at seeing Draco.
"Hello, Draco," Mrs. Lestrange said, rather pleasantly, he was sure for Snape's benefit and not Draco's. "We were just about to eat supper. Ivan, can you get potatoes and chili?"
"And pickles," came a shy voice from the hidden figure.
"And the pickles," Mrs. Lestrange smiled. "We'll eat in here tonight."
Draco studied Snape's clothing. Unlike the Lestranges, Snape wasn't wearing robes. He was wearing black slippers, black slacks, and a purple jacket top. All three had silver dragons embroidered on them.
"I like dragons," Draco said, matter-of-factly, "my name means Dragon."
"Did you hear that Mommy?" came Snape's whispering voice. "He likes dragons too!"
The food appeared on the table in front of them and Draco helped himself, keeping an eye out so he could see Snape's face. He even snagged a pickle since Snape seemed to like them so much.
Settling back against the couch, Draco watched as Snape did his best to stay hidden in his Mrs. Lestrange's robes while she got them both a plate of food.
"Draco took a pickle," she murmured.
"He likes pickles?" Snape asked, turning his head a little so he could see Draco's plate.
Draco kept his eyes on his potato, watching Snape out of the corner of them. Snape's nose was small, normal sized now, his hair was clean and short, and he was wearing glasses! Why was Snape wearing glasses? And how did his nose shrink? And he looked rather cute.
"He took a big pickle," Snape informed Mrs. Lestrange as he settled back against her and the couch with his food on his lap.
Draco got up to add another dollop of chili on his potato and sat closer to Snape. Mr. Lestrange turned on a box and after a second a black and white picture showed up.
"So, you like dragons?" Draco asked, turning to Snape with a gentle grin.
Mrs. Lestrange slipped off the couch to sit on the floor, putting Snape's leg over her shoulder. Snape turned to Draco and shyly nodded his head, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"Yes. I have dragons on my bedding too. And my towels and bathrobe," he added, giggling nervously. "You are lucky to have a name that means dragon," Snape added.
Draco had never felt lucky about it, quite the opposite. He was always getting teased for it.
"Thanks," Draco said, finishing his potato and starting on the pickle.
"Want to see my room?" Snape asked, holding his own pickle in a napkin and looking sideways at Draco.
"If you see mine afterwards," Draco said, trying to remember how to act seven.
Draco noticed Ivan pop away as he and Snape got off the couch and headed down the hallway. Had the others called him? Was Ivan going to send him back?
A picture of a blue dragon adorned Snape's bedroom door. "That is a water dragon," Snape informed him. "They don't exist but Muggles think they do and I like Muggle mythical creatures better than real magical creatures! They are funner!"
He sounded like Blaise Zabini. Blaise was convinced that many of the creatures that Muggles had been spotting over the centuries actually existed and it was unfair of Wizard and Witches to dismiss their findings just because they were seen by Muggles and not them.
Snape opened the door and Draco walked in, nearly tripping in shock. The walls had dragons, elves, fairies (Muggle kind), unicorns, griffins, and such painted on them. The bed was like Snape's clothes, black with silver dragons on it. All the furniture was in bright colors to match the bright wall art and there was even a loft in one corner, and one corner was curtained off with a bright green curtain.
"I read in there," Snape said, pointing to the loft. "Me and Ivan. I can't read yet though. I'm learning though. And on top is my Star Wars toys! Come on!" Snape said, throwing his napkin in a wastepaper bin.
Draco followed Snape up the ladder and knelt down on the carpeted surface as Snape pulled a plastic box to him. He opened the box and started to show Draco all the little plastic figures that were inside.
"This is Vader," he said, waving a black figure, "and this is Luke, and this is Yoda, and this is Artoo Detoo..." and on he went with more excitement that Draco had ever seen his Professor have about anything.
Draco quit listening to Snape and just watched him. Snape was happy, content, and obviously the Lestranges were not hurting him. He was rather shy but considering how Snape had hid behind his hair, Draco had rather expected that.
"I draw," Snape suddenly said, as he put the figures back in their box. "Want to see?"
"Sure," Draco said.
He followed Snape down and Snape drew back the curtain to reveal a little art studio, complete with an easel and a slanting desk top. Different kinds of paper rested in cubbyholes and there were paints, brushes, oil pastels, charcoals, pencils, erasers and colored pencils in clearly labeled boxes. Snape sat at a flat table and tapped the book on top of it.
"I made this," he admitted with shy pride. "It is a Little Wizard Owen story."
Draco had read those as a child. The series had come out then and he had adored them. His parents, in their determination that he turn into a young adult, and gotten rid of them when he turned eleven.
"Can I see it?" he asked.
Snape blushed but nodded his head. "Sure. Mommy wrote the story for me. I told her what to write and she wrote it."
Draco sat next to him and flipped through the book. The story was cute, about a mushroom that Little Wizard Owen had found that housed a Smurf. What a Smurf was, Draco wasn't sure, but it was blue. The Smurf and his house had somehow gotten away from the other Smurfs and Owen had to find the other Smurfs. He did so and the Smurfs were together again.
The illustrations were gorgeous. It looked like someone much older had drawn the pictures. Snape had an obvious talent. Draco narrowed his eyes, wondering about that painting in Snape's room. Had he painted that thing?
"The drawings are great!" Draco said, smiling at Snape.
Snape grinned and pushed his glasses up again.
"Why do you wear glasses?" Draco asked.
"I get headaches if I don't wear them," Snape said, shrugging. "I can see okay but it strains my eyes because I have to concentrate. I didn't even know I needed glasses until Mommy said I might. She noticed I got headaches worse after we had read a lot during the day."
Sounded about right. Draco knew Snape had been drinking potions to cure headaches every day since he had been at school. Snape must have never realized what his problem was.
"You look really nice with them," Draco said.
Snape hid his face and giggled. "Thank you," he muttered. "Are you older or younger than me?" Snape asked, his nose crinkled as he parted his hands.
"Older," Draco decided. That would make things easier. Brothers paid more attention to their older brothers than their younger ones.
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Remus couldn't believe it. Ivan wouldn't listen to them. Not only wouldn't he listen to them but he had kidnapped Draco! Remus was beginning to see why Dark Elves had been banished.
"Bring Draco back!" Dumbledore thundered at him, power radiating from his frame.
Ivan stared at him, not cowed in the least. "No," he said, his voice flat and slightly angry. "You had your chance. Jacenty was with you for seven years and you failed him. I don't trust you. Vasya and Cezar gave him to me. And Draco made his own choice. He wanted to come, he agreed to it."
"He's only fifteen," Remus reasoned. "You can't expect a fifteen year old to make their own decisions."
"You let Harry Potter make his own decisions," the elf said softly. "You let him fight Voldemort. Why don't you let Draco make his own decisions?"
"Draco has parents," Dumbledore said. "Harry does not."
The elf wasn't swayed.
"Ivan, do what you wish," Dimitrius broke in. "Go on back to Jacenty and Draco. It is just for eight days, though, right?"
Ivan nodded his head. "Just eight more days. Eight days is all."
"Don't let Voldemort get them," Remus threw in.
Ivan grinned. "Voldemort won't."
And with that he was gone.
"I guess we have no choice but to wait," Sirius muttered.
"Why did you do that," Dumbledore asked Dimitrius. "We could have convinced him."
Dimitrius shook his head. "No you couldn't. Ivan his hurting, Dumbledore, he wasn't there for Jacenty when Jacenty most needed him. He's trying to make up for that. And it is only for eight days. Frankly, I don't see the problem. Jacenty, Severus, is safer where he is then he would be here."
"But what about the Dark Arts?" Harry questioned. "If the Lestranges teach him the Dark Arts then Snape will become a Dark Wizard!"
Dimitrius looked around at all of them and shook his head. "Ivan won't let that happen. Trust him."
And that was what it all come down to. They had to trust a Dark Elf, two known Death Eaters, and a boy who had grown up wanting to become a Death Eater to raise Severus, who had always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, in such a way that he didn't become a Dark Wizard. Remus closed his eyes. It didn't look good.