It was New Year's Eve and as always, the Malfoys held a party in their manor to celebrate the Dark side's upcoming victory. However, Francesca Zabini didn't feel to join such merry occasion. Instead, she stayed inside one of the mansion's guest rooms, her dark eyes trailed after the silvery spider that crawled onto the desk.
The week before was supposed to be one of her happiest days yet the misfortune befell her beloved caused their long-awaited wedding to be cancelled. She had taken a break from teaching at Hogwarts to help Severus Snape recover from his amnesia and it pained her that although it was almost a month since he first woke up of his coma, he didn't regain anything about his life. It was as if he was a blank slate, and it troubled her whether he could retrieve his memories or not.
"Miss Zabini?" a voice called and Francesca blinked rapidly to wipe her tears away before turning around, heart clenched at the sight of Severus in his wheelchair near the door. "…You're not joining the party?" he asked, worry evident in his face.
She gulped, "I- No… It will get rowdy soon, and I don't fancy being around drunken crowds."
Severus chuckled and steered his wheelchair into the room. His gaze shifted toward the silver spider and his eyes glinting in curiosity. "It's beautiful," he commented. "What spell is that?"
At that, Francesca blushed. Severus had gotten used to magic since she and Narcissa Black-Malfoy reintroduced it to him, but to show her most intimate feelings at him reminded her of him teaching her the Patronus Charm back in Hogwarts and the beginning of their relationship.
"Um…" she started, lips feeling dry all of sudden. "It's… a Patronus. It's supposed to be one of the hardest spells to use, because… uh, it needs the power of strong, good memories. Your fondness toward a memory, how it affects you… such emotions will empower it. It's useful against the Dementors."
Something flickered in Severus' eyes, "Oh."
Francesca lowered her head. She could tell he was eager to learn it but could an amnesiac cast such spell? Unless…
"Someone… taught me there's another way to do it," she began slowly. "It's not as complicated as the original method, but…"
"But?"
She looked into his glinting eyes.
"T- Think of someone that makes you feel safe. The incantation… is 'Expecto Patronum', which is 'I expect a guardian'. But don't feel too burdened to learn it; it demands lots of sincere emotions to cast. Plenty of people use other methods to protect themselves from the Dementors. And well, those creatures wouldn't have reason to step a foot here. So…" Her voice trailed off.
Severus gave her a thoughtful look. Glancing aside, she saw her Patronus fading and they watched as it turned into wisps of silver before disappearing.
"…You must have such wonderful memories to create it, Miss Zabini," he said with a smile.
Francesca couldn't take it anymore. The man in front of her was a shadow of his former self and it tormented her how different and vulnerable he was. Was his stoic façade a lie? What even was real to her?
"It's you," she muttered.
Severus blinked.
"You taught me that. The other way to cast a Patronus."
He remained silent.
"You saved me multiple times already, and I... I love you."
There it was; her awaited confession of love. Wishing Severus' amnesia was only a terrible nightmare and that they would live together as husband and wife already. But Fate had always been cruel, hadn't it?
"Miss Zabini…" Severus started slowly.
"Francesca," she insisted.
Silence fell inside the room.
Severus looked down to his lap. "…Who am I to you?"
Tears began pooling around Francesca's eyes, "Everything."
"…I don't think I can live up to such reputation anymore," he mumbled, shaking his head.
"Don't say that," she held his face gently, gazing into each other's eyes. "It's just… you mean so much to me and I… I want to return the favor." Her gaze fell onto the glass bracelet around her wrist and she took it off. "You need this more than I do," she said, feeling the familiar faint pulse of life within the item before giving it to him.
A series of knocks startled them and they turned to see the Dark Lord at the door. "I wonder where you've been," he said.
Francesca bowed, "I'm sorry, my Lord."
Lord Voldemort waved his hand before approaching Severus with a weak smile. "You must be tired. We'll go to your home tonight."
"Home…?" she frowned before her eyes widened in realization. "Don't tell me you're bringing Severus to that hovel!" She still remembered the old house Severus had showed her was a terrible place and now he's going to live there?!
The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows, lips curled into a grimace as if knowing what she thought. "No, I don't."
"What home?" Severus asked, looking back and forth between her and the other man.
"Your ancestral home, of course. The others are waiting for you."
Francesca couldn't help feeling curious. If Severus really had other members of his family, why did he stay in Malfoy Manor after he was discharged from the hospital? "May I come along?"
"Not now, Miss Zabini. Perhaps some time later." Lord Voldemort's red eyes flashed and Francesca immediately looked away, wondering the true extent of their relationship as the two men left the room whilst smothering the growing jealousy in her heart.
former self and it tormented her how different and vulnerable he was. Was his stoic façade a lie? What even was real to her?
"It's you," she muttered.
Severus blinked.
"You taught me that. The other way to cast a Patronus."
He remained silent.
"You saved me multiple times already, and I... I love you."
There it was; her awaited confession of love. Wishing Severus' amnesia was only a terrible nightmare and that they would live together as husband and wife already. But Fate had always been cruel, hadn't it?
"Miss Zabini…" Severus started slowly.
"Francesca," she insisted.
Silence fell inside the room.
Severus looked down to his lap. "…Who am I to you?"
Tears began pooling around Francesca's eyes, "Everything."
"…I don't think I can live up to such reputation anymore," he mumbled, shaking his head.
"Don't say that," she held his face gently, gazing into each other's eyes. "It's just… you mean so much to me and I… I want to return the favor." Her gaze fell onto the glass bracelet around her wrist and she took it off. "You need this more than I do," she said, feeling the familiar faint pulse of life within the item before giving it to him.
A series of knocks startled them and they turned to see the Dark Lord at the door. "I wonder where you've been," he said.
Francesca bowed, "I'm sorry, my Lord."
Lord Voldemort waved his hand before approaching Severus with a weak smile. "You must be tired. We'll go to your home tonight."
"Home…?" she frowned before her eyes widened in realization. "Don't tell me you're bringing Severus to that hovel!" She still remembered the old house Severus had showed her was a terrible place and now he's going to live there?!
The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows, lips curled into a grimace as if knowing what she thought. "No, I don't."
"What home?" Severus asked, looking back and forth between her and the other man.
"Your ancestral home, of course. The others are waiting for you."
Francesca couldn't help feeling curious. If Severus really had other members of his family, why did he stay in Malfoy Manor after he was discharged from the hospital? "May I come along?"
"Not now, Miss Zabini. Perhaps some time later." Lord Voldemort's red eyes flashed and Francesca immediately looked away, wondering the true extent of their relationship as the two men left the room whilst smothering the growing jealousy in her heart.
Severus didn't know what to expect when the man named Marvolo brought him to a manor that was not as grandiose as Malfoy Manor, but just as homely with its location nearby a forest and other settlements.
"Do I really live here?" he couldn't help asking.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you bring me here right after-?"
Marvolo took a deep breath, "I want you to know who can be trusted. There are bad people out there, who had hurt you in the past. Those you meet in Malfoy Manor are my close associates. They will look after you if I'm not around."
"So is my family connected to you too?" Severus asked to which the man only smiled before pushing his wheelchair to the entrance doors that swung open.
Two house-elves immediately bowed down and uttered, "Welcome home, Masters Severus and Marvolo."
"You are acquainted with house-elves, yes, Severus?" Marvolo queried.
Severus only nodded. Dobby, the elf working at Malfoy Manor was quite chipper so he wondered if all house-elves were the same. "Um… I hope you enjoy staying here," he said with an awkward grin.
The smaller elf bowed. "Minty and Libby are happy to serve the Princes, Master Severus."
Marvolo pushed the wheelchair into the mansion and Severus looked around in awe at the numerous moving portraits who greeted him with smiles and kind words. But there was one that caught his attention.
"Is that me?" he asked, pondering on why the image looked so… regal and mysterious. The Severus in the portrait had steely red-orange eyes that gazed ahead in determination, as if there was an important goal he wanted to achieve.
"Yes."
Looking upward, he saw a woman's painting whose facial features resembling his portrait but unlike him, she looked sullen and her eyes were either dark brown or black. Though what puzzled him was her image didn't move like other portraits.
"What happened to her? Who is she-?"
Marvolo sighed. "…Your mother. She had passed away, Severus."
"Oh." There was a gnawing feeling in Severus' heart. Why was that every time he felt hopeful, something bound to happen and disappoint him? "Suppose my father is not around too, huh?" he sneered bitterly.
The other portraits made a sharp gasp and Marvolo grimaced. "We won't talk about that man, ever," he hissed before hastily pushing the wheelchair to the dining room.
Now Severus was puzzled. "I was only joking," he said, frantic over his guardian's sudden change in demeanor. "Was he-?"
"He had hurt you, yes," the man spat. "But he's dead already. And good riddance on that if you ask me."
Dinner was tense and Severus' mind whirled with the new information. Both his parents had died. His father was apparently a terrible man, so much so that Marvolo was angered by it. But weren't parents the ones who remember their child's life the most? How was he suppose to regain his memories if they weren't alive anymore?
When Marvolo brought him to a room nearby the library and helped him to the bed, Severus felt like crying.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away from the man. "It's just… I really want to remember who I am."
He heard Marvolo held out a long breath. "I know you for six years, when you're… seventeen. Petunia Dursley is your childhood… acquaintance. Your friends; Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Michael Avery and Alaric Mulciber know you from school. Francesca Zabini is… your beloved. They are not your parents, but can help you reminisce those different times and memories, even if you have no recollections about them. Don't force yourself to remember. We won't hold it against you."
"…But do you know my parents?" This time, Severus turned to the man whose eyes were downcast.
"Not enough," Marvolo said. "Your mother was a witch, about four or five years below me in Hogwarts. She married your Muggle father out of defiance to her family, and well… it didn't work out as she hoped." Then he gave Severus a sour look. "Don't ask about your father."
"I… Alright."
"Sleep well."
Days passed, and Septimus Prince could only observe from afar as the heir of the Prince family trying to discern any clues about his past by examining the various items and trinkets within the old manor. How he wished to greet the young man too, but was afraid his ghostly appearance would frighten Severus.
However, as the house-elves showed Severus his previous achievements, Septimus noted the young man's minor worried expression grew at every information and wondered why.
He got his answer the night before Severus' 22nd birthday.
The ghost left his haunting place – the Princes' gardens – to ask the portraits about Severus' wellbeing when he saw the lights in the library were on. Now he knew he should go with his original plan, but he was curious about Severus' mysterious condition… and how he wished to have inflicted amnesia onto himself before that fateful day centuries ago.
Septimus phased through the walls and saw Severus was at the desk with his own portrait in hand. Using his wand, the young man tapped onto the canvas and watched the changes within the item, documenting his facial features.
"People seem to praise you," Severus began, eyes fixed at the painting when it returned to its original look. "You defied all the odds to get to where you were. Then they look at me. I don't… I can't do what you did. They all have expectations on me but what if I can't make them? They want you back, thinking I didn't know… I want to remember, but… I don't think I can ever."
The young man sniffled and Septimus felt inclined to comfort him. Forgetting how he was not supposed to appear in front of Severus, he took a handkerchief and held it to the young man. "Don't cry," he said.
Time halted to a stop when Severus' eyes widened at him.
"A ghost!" he exclaimed in fright, subconsciously steering his wheelchair away from him.
Septimus winced and mentally slapped himself for his blunder. "I- …Yes. Uh, don't be afraid of me, please. I'm not a vengeful spirit or anything… oh, forget that. I'm Septimus Prince, the resident ghost of this manor. I, um… usually haunt the gardens."
Severus blinked. "How long have you been here?" he asked.
The ghost paused. "If you mean by me being in this manor… over centuries or so."
Septimus was startled by how quick Severus' mood changed. "Really?" the young man queried with bright eyes, "Then you must-"
"Uh, no," Septimus said quickly, "You only came to this mansion when you're sixteen."
"…Oh." There was it again, the imminent disappointment.
"Eileen – your mother – was, dare I say… ashamed of her decision and decided to not return here. You had asked her several times but she never budged. Quite stubborn, she was," Septimus closed his eyes.
"Then… how was I back then?"
Septimus smiled, "You are inventive, yes, but what really… inspires me was that you are resilient. You've had terrible fates no one could ever endure, but you went through them. You want to live well, in spite of the hardships you faced." He then laughed somberly. "If only you are around with me centuries ago… I won't be roaming this world as a lost spirit; won't be wallowing over my mistakes for years to come. Watching how the others passed to the afterlife in peace except for me."
He turned to see Severus giving him a thoughtful look. "I want to forget, Severus," he went on. "Don't they all say ignorance is bliss? The Princes… we have a loyalty bond with our beloved, but mine betrayed me. I tried, and tried to remove my memories of her. Nothing worked. I thought… in death I will be free from such torment but I have doubts mere moments of killing myself. My uncle, aunt and cousin… what would they think of me? Was I a coward to end it all? But it was too late already. Just a misstep, and…" His fingers grazed lightly against the rope marks around his neck.
"Don't be saddened over the lost of your memories, Severus. Sometimes it was for the best. Live the life that you will look back at it proudly, not of shame and guilt like me. Even if it's just a normal life."
The bell from the nearby church rang and Septimus looked at the calendar hung inside the library. He might be a ghost, but he never forgot what day it was.
"Happy birthday, Severus," he said.
The young man only smiled in return.
The cold wintery wind blew by, and Albus Dumbledore stood in waiting for his partner to begin their arduous task. The wizened wizard knew what he asked to the man was dangerous and could even be fatal, but couldn't find any others who wished to help him especially with the Ministry of Magic still hunting for him.
The familiar crack of Apparation entered the air and he saw a bespectacled man adjusting his glasses before approaching him.
"James," Albus greeted warmly. "How are you today?"
The young man shrugged. "Not that great. Lily's mad at me for the whole prophecy debacle and leaving her alone in the house. Won't be surprised if she will ask for a divorce, especially after losing Harry."
"Anyone will do mistakes," Albus said. The young Potter's death was truly unexpected but perhaps there will be someone else born at the end of the seventh month. If so, he couldn't afford playing ignorant any longer. The Longbottoms' loss too was enough. He would protect whoever it was to the end of his life, even as the Dark Lord and his mysterious Rogue Prince came to play.
"Did you tell her what we will do today?" Albus queried. He wanted to set things right for his godson by reclaiming his authority within the wizarding world. Just imagine, the praises from people when they found out the lurking Dark Lord Voldemort had a weakness… he was bound to be famous and respected for generations to come!
"I tried to, but she was having none of it. Saying you're a bad influence to me," James gave a weak laugh and Albus could only smile. Oh, if only the world knew he was saving them… Don't they all know the path of the greater good lies with dubious intentions?
The two men then approached the cliff overseeing the misty sea, unaware of the dangers waiting ahead.