Harry Potter One Shorts

Remember you

The Eaters find out that Severina is a spy, and they torture her before sending her back to Dumbledore without her memories. Sirius' POV.

It is I who found you six weeks after your disappearance.

I remember it.

I remember you on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, standing stiff and straight, a small stone bowl in your hand and your other hand wrapped in bloody rags and pressed awkwardly to your chest.

"Snape, there you are. Dumbledore is killing himself over you!" I yell at you, but you only look at me without saying anything.

And that's when I notice the strange, vacant, slightly puzzled look in your black eyes. Your hair is moist with sweat and blood, and your mouth is half-opened, letting out shallow, ragged breaths. I can see how your ribcage goes up and down underneath the dirt stained robes you wear.

You walk with me to Hogwarts, agonisingly slow. I can smell more blood on you, and the deliberate carefulness of your movements gives away that something is wrong. But you don't make a sound, you don't say a word, and it's so creepy that even I, who's been surrounded by darkness all his life, feel alarmed.

In Albus's study, he rushes to you and presses you to his chest in a fatherly embrace.

"Severina, my child, you're back," he says as his voice trembles. That's when you speak for the first time, ask in a small, quiet voice, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Are you my father?" You ask hopefully.

And I feel something in me start breaking. Albus looks as though he's been hit, and it takes him a few moments to pull himself together. He sounds pained and tired.

"No, my dear. I'm Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Then," you say quietly and hand him the stone bowl, "it's for you. From my Master."

I take you to the infirmary at Albus's wordless request, as he dives into the Pensieve you brought him.

I wonder if you lost your mind under the Crucio curse. Did Voldemort do something else to you to turn you into this restrained, frail shadow... to make you call him your Master?

Poppy is enraged when we get to the infirmary. After she scans you with her wand. She doesn't need to say much, but I can guess most of it. I hover uncertainly in the doorway, hesitating, in case she might need my help. You're completely subdued and placid as she fusses over you until she tries to make you lie down.

You raise your face then, white as a ghost with bluish lips, and you whisper,

"Don't I need to go back to my Master now?"

Poppy and I look at you horrified at the prospect but explain to you that this is your home.

A few hours later, Albus comes out of his study, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily.

"I thought it was Severina's memories in the Pensieve," he says. "They are not. They are the memories of what was done to her... a present from Voldemort to me."

I look at you as you sleep, sedated by Poppy. Your face is tired and haggard, with huge circles under your eyes. Your right hand, the one with the fingers broken and fingernails torn out, is bandaged tightly and lies quietly on the blanket.

I might've hated you, I might've doubted your loyalties, but I wouldn't wish what happened to you on anyone, not even you. There is too much darkness, both before death and beyond, to wish to multiply it.

So when Albus asks, "Please keep an eye on Severina, I don't want to send her to St. Mungos. I know your animosity towards her, but it will only be temporary, and I'm sure we'll find a way to restore her memories."