Author's Note: Sorry this is so late but I've been writing chapters for several weeks and deleting one right after the other until I got one that seemed to fit. This story is very temperamental to begin with and my free time is much less now that I have started college again. Again, sorry.
A Memory Found
by: Mystical Dragon
Severus groggily toppled into his bed. Draco had fallen asleep on the couch and Severus didn't have the heart to wake the young man and send him back to his dorm but Severus didn't think it appropriate to stay in the same room as him. Yawning, Severus rolled over onto his side, his stomach aching from all the chocolate he had consumed that night. It was going to take awhile for Severus to be as comfortable around Draco as he had been when they were kids but it would come and Draco had promised him he would be patient about it, knowing it would take a bit of time.
This night had been an eye-opener. After a lifetime, almost, of hiding who he was, Severus found in disconcerting to have someone know him as well as Draco did. Severus was especially not used to someone being able to read his moods just by looking at him when the only mood he ever allowed himself to show was anger but Draco could see right through it to tell if he was amused, angry, upset, or just thinking too hard. It was a weird feeling having someone know him.
"Where are you?" Draco's voice rang out, worried.
"In my bedroom," Severus called to him.
"Hey, we're related! You can stay in here. I'm not really you're student anymore. Or we used to be related," Draco protested. "Never mind. Good night. See you on Christmas!"
"I think it is Christmas," Severus said. "It's four in the morning."
"Ah, good," Draco called. "You better sleep well, we're going to that Christmas feast tomorrow."
"I don't want to," Severus said. "I'll stay in my rooms."
"Of course you don't want to go," Draco agreed. "And of course you're going. Good night."
"Impudent boy," Severus said, growling.
Draco just laughed and Severus felt his stomach twist. He hated being around people. Couldn't he just hide in his rooms?
Severus looked over at Ivan, who had taken up residence on his desk, a small round dog like cushion under him, and weakly smiled.
"I don't want to go to the feast," Severus informed him, sure Ivan would take his side.
"Jacenty," Ivan said, not looking amused or angry, "the less you are around people the harder being around people will be. But I will not make you go there if you don't feel you are ready."
Relaxing, Severus nodded his head and closed his eyes, hoping to dream of his parents again. He couldn't have them back but at least he could remember them. Severus wondered, like he often did, how better his life would be right now if they were still alive. It was a depressing thought to think he would have turned out normal if it wasn't for Dimitrius. Severus, while he didn't completely blame the man (understanding his reasoning), refused to be around him, though Ivan had mentioned Dimitrius was still here and wanted to see him. It would hurt too much to see him, remind Severus too much that he could have been normal instead of the emotional wreck he was, and Severus wasn't about to put himself through that. Falling asleep, Severus waited for his dreams to begin.
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Severus, as a three year old, walked into his father's paint studio and located the paints, rifling through them. Severus wondered if his father would get angry but considering his little self wasn't trying to be sneaky about it, Severus figured it was allowed, or at least tolerated.
"Red," Severus said, grinning and trotting out of the room, a large paint bag firmly in his hand.
Walking into the playroom, Severus smirked and walked over to a wooden sword and some knocked over figures made of a darker wood. Sitting down, Severus squeezed the paint onto the figures and the sword, muttering something. Wondering what his child self was doing, Severus hoped his parents would show up soon. He wanted to see them.
"Daddy!" Severus yelled, getting up and hefting the sword, a determined look on his face. "Come here!"
Wasting his father's red paint must have been allowed then or Severus would not have called him.
Cezar, after a few seconds, came into the room, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. "Yes?"
Severus stared at his father, eyeing his overly muscular body and wondering how he got to look like that. These people had no weights and since Cezar was a noble he didn't have to do manual labor.
Smiling at his father, wishing he could see the man right now, but also glad he couldn't. Cezar wouldn't be proud of how he turned out. No one was proud of it.
"I murdered them," Severus said, proudly, jabbing his sword at the red stained figures. "They are peasants and I was annoyed with them. I'm Jacenty, The Peasant Destroyer."
Severus felt a chill go through his body, his mind recoiling at what his three years old self had said. He never joked about murdering people. Even in Knockturn Alley he hadn't, well, except for the Marauders but he had no intention of actually doing it, just releasing some pent up feelings through his artwork.
"Good, Jacek," Cezar said, walking up to Severus and putting a large arm around him while he surveyed Severus's handiwork. "But remember the only peasants you can kill are the ones that are annoying the Emperor. You can't kill peasants unless he orders it. And it looks like I'm going to have to get more red paint," he man said, amused.
Severus stared. Cezar was supposed to take him aside and explain to him why murdering was wrong, not compliment him and assure him he was going to get to kill one day. And murdering someone because they were annoying you? That sounded like Black. What was the Emperor, Black in disguise?
"Daddy, when can I start killing peasants?" Severus asked, folding his arms and looking peeved. "I want to do it now. I'm very strong. I will chop their heads off," Severus declared, making a slashing motion with his sword.
"You're a child, boy," Cezar said, laughing. "But don't worry, you'll get your chance soon enough."
"How old were you when you killed your first peasant?" Severus asked, impishly. "Maybe you were really little like me."
"I was twelve," Cezar said, "now go play, Peasant Destroyer."
Severus giggled and stood the figures up again, only to knock them down again with his sword while his father watched, grinning.
Severus stared at his father, his stomach churning. He had known Cezar was the Emperor's General but for some reason Severus hadn't thought much about it and he had forgotten that he would be trained to be the next General, who seemed to be nothing more than the Emperor's henchman. This was the life Severus would have had if Dimitrius hadn't killed his parents, a life of murdering peasants at the Emperor's sick whim.
"Daddy?" Severus's three year old self asked, turning to his father, while Severus cringed. What other ghastly things was he going to start talking about. "When am I going to get a real sword?"
"When I feel you're ready to handle a real one," Cezar said, winking. "And then you'll practice hitting objects made to look like peasants."
How nice, Severus thought sarcastically.
Severus jumped up and landed in a squat, his fake sword in a firm grip before him. "Chop the arms off and then heads!"
Oh, he was a real sweet kid, Severus decided, shuddering. How could he be joking about this? Murdering was wrong. No one deserved to be murdered. And wasn't his father saying something!
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Jerking awake, Severus barely managed to get to the bathroom in time before his stomach rebelled at his dream. Turning on the water to rinse his mouth out, Severus felt himself shaking. Three years old and plotting murders already! And his father was encouraging it! Trembling, Severus slid down onto the floor, his back to the stone wall.
He wanted his parents back, wanted to be raised by them, but Severus, as much as it pained him, realized it was a good thing that he hadn't been. He would have turned out to be a murdering psychopath who didn't even realize murdering was wrong. Just like Sebastian Wilkes, the Dark Lord, and countless other Death Eaters.
"Jacenty?" Ivan asked, opening the door from his bedroom and coming in. "What's wrong?"
Severus stared at him, blanching at the name. Jacenty, Peasant Destroyer. "Would I have became the Emperor's General and killed peasants if I had stayed with my parents?"
Ivan shrugged his small shoulders, putting a hand on Severus's knee. "We will never know. But Cezar was training you to think of the Peasants as less than human and you did enjoy pretending to kill them."
"Oh," Severus breathed, shuddering. "How could I have done that?"
Ivan squeezed his knee. "You never lost anyone before, Jacenty, and you had never seen anyone killed, death meant nothing to you. You thought it was a game, a big joke and you were only three when you played those games. Many three year olds play games where they kill people though they would never do it for real. We will never know if you would have accepted your parent's morals or gone against them."
Hugging his knees to his chest, Severus shook his head. "I always imagined that I would have turned out so much better if I had loving parents as a child. It never occurred to me that I might have turned out worse."
A rather sobering thought. And Severus really didn't know if he would have rejected his parent's morals. Sebastian Wilkes had never gone against his parents, partly because Sebastian's parents were very loving and they had a very close knit family. Just like Severus would have had.
Ivan placed a hand on Severus's shoulder. "You turned out fine."
Severus swallowed. "Barely," he whispered. But barely was better than what the alternative had been. Knockturn Alley, despite the cruelty and harshness, was looking better by the second. He had managed to turn out okay. His life had been harsh growing up but maybe if it hadn't been Severus wouldn't have turned out to be a person he would have liked. He loved his father but Severus didn't want to become like him.
"But you did turn out okay," Ivan asserted. "Jacenty, instead of dwelling on the past, dwell on the future. You have a very bright one now."
Severus looked at the Dark Elf and slowly found himself realizing it. He had people who cared for him and he while he still had to teach, Severus had enough free time to devote to other pursuits, to find out what he wanted to do if he decided to quit teaching.
The images of him murdering those wooden figures wouldn't leave his mind, though. He had enjoyed it, as a child, and done it as play. How many of his Slytherins had played 'kill mudbloods and Muggles' as children? Taught to believe it was the right thing by their parents. Severus didn't want to lose students like that, students that, if taught the right way, could turn their lives around. Severus had managed to leave the Lestranges because of Draco, because he had someone to hold onto when he made that choice, and Severus realized he was going to have to give his Slytherins more than he had been. Favoring them wasn't enough. Severus was going to have to teach them right from wrong, ignoring the consequences of how many students that were actually evil he would lose in the process, and make sure the ones who realized the truth knew Severus would take care of them if their parents kicked them out of the house for their choices. And he was going to have to deal with the Dark Lord knowing, from his students that wrote home, that Severus was no longer loyal to him.
"Ivan," Severus said, "can you protect me if some of my students to kill me?"
Ivan nodded his head. "I'll try."
That was all Severus could ask for. "No more eating and drinking things that have been lying around long enough for someone to have slipped something into them," Severus said, rubbing his forehead. "Openly telling my students that the Dark Lord is evil is not going to be safe."
Ivan shook his head. "Then don't."
"They have to know," Severus protested. "I don't want to lose my students to the Dark Lord like I was lost."
Ivan pointed toward the door that lead to the living area. "Draco can help. The children can't know your position. Those who have been thinking about joining Voldemort will feel self-conscious if they know you are against him and won't come to you. Don't tell them. Just guide them as much as you can."
"I'm going to lose so many of them," Severus said, having an entire year of his Dark Mark growing steadily darker to remind him, daily, of the fact. It was a no wonder he had been so grouchy last year.
Ivan put a firm hand on Severus's arm. "You can't prevent that. The children will make their own decisions but at least you won't lose any of them they could have been saved. And don't just concentrate on the Slytherins."
Severus looked at Ivan. He had always favored the Slytherins and ignored the other Houses and yet Severus had hated McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick for not helping him as a student and expecting his Head of House to do it but his Head of House had been too busy with the obvious evil children to notice the ones sitting on the sideline, like him, neither good or evil, yet.
"I can't do Slytherin House and everyone else too," Severus said, shaking his head. "It's impossible."
Ivan patted his arm and started to pace in front of Severus, his hands behind his back. Severus slightly smiled at the sight.
"I can help and so can Draco. Draco will concentrate on the Slytherins, giving the two of us time to concentrate on all the houses. Children from the other houses, having been taught that only Slytherins turn bad, will feel they have no where to turn if they do falter in their choices, and it's foolish to think that some won't. Those students need to know there is someone they can talk to about it. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout are nice people but they have never been tempted to turn and will not understand how kids from their Houses could be."
Severus nodded his head. "Okay. How do we do it?"
Ivan shrugged his small shoulders. "We'll just have to try various things and see what works. In the mean time, you should concentrate on getting the courage to show someone your artwork," Ivan said, completely changing the subject.
"Dumbledore's seen some of it," Severus said, blanching. He didn't want anyone seeing his artwork, did he? That was private.
Ivan's ears twitched. "He didn't know which were yours!"
Severus took a breath. "Draco's seen some."
"He's only seen the artwork you did as a child," Ivan said, not persuaded. "Show Dumbledore the painting you did of him."
Quickly shaking his head, Severus held up a hand. "No, Ivan."
"Why not?" Ivan asked, his voice soft.
Severus glared at the Dark Elf. "I don't want him to see that."
"I like the picture," Ivan said. "Show him."
Severus rolled his eyes and Ivan laughed. "You used to roll your eyes at me all the time when you still lived with your parents. I missed that."
Severus felt a chill at the mention of his parents. "Would you have stayed with me all my life? Even if I had turned out like my father?"
Ivan shook his head, his ears flapping. "I would have stayed only as long as you needed a friend. But when you turned twelve your parents were going to send you to Stribog Academy under a different name. You would not have needed me then."
Stribog Academy, where Severus would have been taught to be a murderer. What a glorious future he would have had, Severus thought bitterly. Severus looked around his bathroom. He much preferred this future. Teaching, as much as he hated it, was better than murdering.
Ivan smiled at him. "I love you, Jacenty," Severus still didn't know how Ivan could be so open with his feelings, "but I don't think I would have liked you if your parents had raised you. They were wonderful people but their ideas were... not right."
"I'll say," Severus said, sighing.
"Let's go back to bed," Ivan said, helping Severus up. "And let Dumbledore see that picture tomorrow."
Tomorrow was not going to be a pleasant day. Christmas Day was supposed to fun, enjoyable, not filled with things he had to do which were less pleasant than getting stung by a bunch of bees.
"How's my farm?" Severus asked, stopping by the desk as Ivan climbed back onto his cushion.
"Isadora wanted to use the sphere for the Orphanage," Ivan said. "To give the children lots of open space to play in and a farm to take care of. She and a few other Dark Elves and freed House-Elves will take care of it until the orphans can They could have made another one but I didn't think you would have time to take care of it."
Severus nodded his head, realizing Ivan was right, and got into his bed, wondering if he could wrangle a greenhouse out of Professor Sprout's clutches. Or maybe he could just make his own. Draco would probably enjoy helping him with that.
His stomach still hurt, thinking about tomorrow, and Severus closed his eyes.
"Ivan?" Severus asked, opening his eyes again. "Can I talk with Nathan tomorrow? I'd like to thank him."
Ivan lifted his head and smiled, nodding. "Of, course, Jacenty."
Jacenty? Did Severus want Ivan to use that name anymore, considering what he would have become? "Ivan? If it is okay, use Severus."
Ivan, instead of being displeased, just shrugged. "Whatever you want, Severus."
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Author's Note: This chapter is shorter than the others and I'm hoping I'll be able to update more often if I keep them that way.