Haunted Memories

-Chapter Seventeen-

Another World

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within J.K Rowling's story.

Severus Snape sighed deeply. He sipped from his cup again and looked over at the two woman staring at him intently. He knew that he had to say something, but how was he able to face the haunted memories of the years past? For one thing, during the battle, he had helped out the Order with warnings of attacks, but that had eventually lead him to be beaten up and scorned by the thousands of Death Eaters when they found him to be a traitor. The fateful night when he had returned the children had been the last night that he had remembered before the Final Battle began. Ever since then, Severus had lived a non-existence life in the muggle world. A patient who had lost all memories of what had happened to him and forced to face the world alone.

"Doctor! Come quickly, there's a man outside that need medical attention immediately!"

The muggle doctor swore as he dropped his glass of hot tea down the front of his shirt in surprise. It was tea time and he had wanted to relax. However, Nurse Pennington had sounded quite urgent. Running out the doors, he followed the young woman and turned towards the entrance of the hospital. There he spied a dark haired man wrapped in black cloth which barely hid his body. There were several dangerous burns which ran along the length of his legs. Long bloody gashes spread across his chest and his face seemed to have been punched several times. The man was lying on the stretcher with his arms in a awkward fashion. Examining the patient, Doctor Merrill swore again. "This patient needs to have surgery immediately. There is internal bleeding and the broken ribs have punctured his lungs."

Immediately the hospital staff flared into action, making sure that the man had all their attention. Never had they come across someone so hurt and still alive. The young nurse watched as Doctor Merrill spoke to the other doctors with urgency but professionally. She sighed as she unconsciously stroked the patient's hand and wiped his face clean of blood. Would this man survive?

The dark haired man sat in the hospital bed and stared around him. He didn't understand what he was doing here, how he came to be hurt and he didn't know why he couldn't remember a thing that had happened. Numerous nurses, doctors and policemen had come up to him to ask him questions. All of them went unanswered. Reports from the neighbouring people came back that he had been found near the railroad tracks leading past the abandoned warehouse. The man had been wearing very little, save for his trousers and a white collar shirt. The rest of his clothing seemed to have been burned away or was in such a state that it was non repairable. Police had found no suspicious looking weapons lying around and had concluded that the man had been hurt at some other location before fleeing for his life.

Now he stared as the doctors administered some sickly looking liquid down his throat and he could not help but gag as he tasted it. It was supposed to be some sort of nutritional supplement they said. It made him feel weak and tired as his stomach begged him to eat something proper. He fingered the loose clothing on his body and scowled at the yellow coloured cloth. How he hated the colour!

Laying back down tiredly, he couldn't stop his eye lids from closing and he sighed as the sleep overtook him.

Severus closed his eyes, remembering the first day that he had been found. Hermione was staring at him openly and he smirked. "Miss Granger, that look does not become you."

Hermione closed her mouth and blinked. Quickly looking off into her empty tea cup, she shook her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Professor...I was just curious as to what you have been doing as well."

Severus layed back against the couch. The coffee coloured cushions were actually doing wonders for his sore back. "I was living in the muggle world, Miss Granger."

Hermione seemed to be set in a stupor as she watched the man. "The muggle world, sir?"

He inwardly chuckled that she still regarded him as her professor. Nodding he watched the Headmistress observe him. "I had lost my memory five years ago. I was found somewhere in London. A small hospital. I suppose I had apparated there for safety, before I fell unconscious. However, by the time I awoke, I had no knowledge of where I was or who I was for that matter."

Hermione leaned forward as he told of his tale. She had wondered what the potions master would be like if he was an ordinary muggle. Would he still be so dominating? As snarky? She tried to imagine how he would react to everything in the muggle world. Having to relearn everything about life was hard for an ordinary muggle, but he had been a wizard! If he had remembered his old life, he would find it extraordinary to be learning these things.

Severus scowled as he watched the young woman before him. She was leaning in closer to him and causing him to feel a bit uncomfortable, though he never showed it. Deep inside, he wondered what she was thinking. How was she reacting to his story.

He stared at the room in front of him. He was to answer more questions. The nurses tell him that there have been no missing person reports filed in that matched his description. He cringed. Does that mean no one cared for him? No one cared if he disappeared from their lives? He felt like lying back down on the bed and not moving again. There would be no one who cared for him enough to tell him to get up. But here he was in the room. Many people came and went. Others stayed to chat for a while before he scared them off. He had overheard the police saying that there was no one from certain criminal groups that matched his description. So surely that meant the injuries that he had sustained was because of a random act of violence? Someone hated him that much to try to kill him? He did not want to think about this anymore. It was a month since his recovery and he still didn't remember his own name. How would he live in this world? How would he make a living when there's no information on him? Could he dwell in this place any longer? Living his existence as a shadow of what he was?

A shiver ran through him as he thought about it. His dreams told him lies. Different stories of another life. He had not told a soul of his dreams. For they filled him with dread. There was killing to be done in his dreams and he had killed a few man himself. One which haunted him more than ever was the face of an old man. An ancient man. One that he felt an attachment to, but in his dreams, he had killed him. How he did not know, but when the green light subsided, he knew that the man had died.

If he had told anyone, he would be put in jail! He couldn't live a life in jail. It was horrible as it was living here in the hospital. Though he was given room and board, he was to help out the nurses. It was a small town and small towns don't usually have people showing up with no memories of their previous lives. They didn't know what to do with him.

Severus poured some more tea for the two woman as he sat to catch his breath. The whole experience in the muggle world had been enlightening. He had never enjoyed embracing his muggle background as his father had been a man of ferocious anger. Severus never wanted to end up like him, however as ironic as it was, he knew that he had failed miserably. His temper would flare at the slightest when Longbottom did something stupid near his potion.

"John! How nice of you to come. Thank you so much for offering your services. We need as many people as we can."

The dark haired man nodded slightly and stood off in the corner waiting for everyone to take their positions before choosing a setting for himself. He observed the other students and smiled inwardly as they fumbled for the right chemicals. He knew instinctively that they didn't read the necessary instructions on the bottom of the page. A sandy haired elderly man stood in front of the class and motioned for them to start. John set about his chemicals and ingredients and stared at the bunsen burner. It wasn't at the right temperature. He moved his hand over the gas valve and opened it slightly wider, allowing more gas to burn. Taking some vials from the small rack in front of him, he set about measuring the different chemicals needed for the reaction. Taking out a ball point pen, he set about recording the time that the chemicals needed to react fully. Finally, when all his ingredients had reacted as he had predicted, he set off cleaning the apparatus and bringing the samples up to the professor.

"Thank you John. I knew you would be the first one done."

John smirked proudly and waited as the professor ran through the results. "As expected, absolutely wonderful. Now we shall see how the others do and if our predicted reaction came through expected. Thank you again, for coming in John. I know you didn't have to do this. Not when you are as advanced as you are."

John stood silently for a moment before bowing slightly. "May I be excused, Professor?"

The professor smiled brightly and waved his hand. "The rest of the class is yours to do as you wish. Please reconsider my proposal. You would be a great assistant to my classes. I'm sure you'll do fine teaching the young minds."

For some reason, a smirk tugged at the corners of John's lips and he forced himself from outwardly laughing. "Thank you Professor. I shall consider it."

Stepping out, he took off the lab coat and goggles and made for his quarters. There was so much to do. He had hoped that he would be able to finish his essay tonight. There would be an exam tomorrow. Staring into the mirror in the washroom, he scowled at the greasy hair which covered his head. Everytime he had finished toiling with the chemicals, he found himself with unattractive hair. John wondered if he should keep his hair that way. It would make it much easier to deal with than to keep washing his hair every five hours of the day. Sighing, he ran a finger along the length of his nose and looked into the reflection of his dark eyes. They held something there, a knowledge that he couldn't uncover. It had been three years since he had left the hospital. They had given him a name...a place to stay and a job. Now if only the dreams would stop plaguing him.