Fic: Memories as a Teacup: Chapter 10
Title: Memories as a Teacup: Chapter 10
Author: wook77
Pairing:: Dean/Seamus (other slash and het pairings contained within)
Rating: PG (Eventual rating: Hard R to NC-17)
100quills prompt: 29. Disease
Warnings: Canon compliant through DH. Pre-Epilogue. Additional Warnings at the beginning of Chapter 1.
Wordcount: Overall: ~70k This part: 4200
Summary: Four years ago, Dean Thomas died in the midst of a raid. Seamus saw it happen right in front of his eyes but seeing isn't believing and reality is in the eye of the beholder.
A/N: Many many thanks to nefernat and elanorofcastilefor the beta job. All remaining mistakes are my own.
All Chapters
Seamus paced outside of Harry and Ron's office. The owl had come while he was authorising the man-power to survey a possible area for the Quidditch World Cup. They'd need to work with the Muggle Liaison Office. They'd also need to see about enlarging the seating capacity in the stadium. If they were going to have the World Cup there, they'd need to possibly double the size and then there were the accommodations. He had no idea how they would fit everyone in the area surrounding the stadium, though there was that field and if they could get someone from… right, he was here to talk to Harry and Ron if they'd ever bloody well open their door.
He banged on the door once more and, of course, there was no answer. He didn't miss being an Auror. At first, righteous ire had fuelled him in a quest for justice as they'd hunted down Death Eaters but with all of them caught, dead or incapacitated, the work wasn't nearly as exciting as it had been. After spending so much time with Quidditch, he realized that being an Auror wasn't his destiny, regardless of whether Dean had lived or died.
Kingsley Shacklebolt turned the corner and grinned when he saw Seamus. "Coming back into our ranks, are you?"
When Shacklebolt held out his hand, Seamus shook it. "No, sir, can't say that I am. Just here to meet with Harry and Ron about something. You seen 'em?"
"They're out in the field. They told me about Thomas. Good to hear, though I'm curious if any of the other disappearances might be related to this. I've asked for the cooperation of the Obliviators. We'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry." Shacklebolt started walking and Seamus strode along beside him. "How's Thomas doing?"
"He's well enough. Can't remember much, but he seems to be coping with it all right." It wasn't a complete lie. "Working with Healer Patil and some French guy from St. Marie's."
"Good to hear. Bad time for the department, losing the two of you the way we did." They reached the lifts.
"Don't think I would've lasted anyway." Seamus pressed the button to go up while Shacklebolt pressed the one to go down.
"Perhaps it's a good thing things happened the way they did, then."
"Aye," Seamus said then went silent. There wasn't much else he could say in response. Thankfully, the lift arrived and when the door opened, Harry and Ron spilled out.
"News to report?" Shacklebolt asked.
"We'll need to clear a visit to Azkaban but we think so. We went back to the house where Dean fell but nothing new. We're going to talk to Lestrange, with your permission, of course," Harry said as they started walking back the way they came. "Seamus? Want to come along? Again, with permission, of course."
The idea was tempting, far too tempting. He wanted to, bad enough that he could taste it. The reports and requests for clearance could wait. Nodding, he smiled with far more teeth than necessary, "Course I do."
"You'd have to be an Auror and you just said you weren't made for it," Kingsley interrupted.
"Sir, with all due respect, I think this is just my sort of thing."
Shacklebolt held out a hand and shook Seamus's. "Welcome back. You three are cleared for Azkaban, let me just write up the authorisation for temporary reinstatement and a pass."
They followed down the hall to Shacklebolt's office and then watched as he signed the form with a flourish. The three nodded and then made their way through the Ministry to the Floo network connections. They had to have the Floo opened to get them to Azkaban but with Shacklebolt's form, they encountered no issues.
A guard greeted them on the other side, hand outstretched for the chit. "Who're you needing?"
"Lestrange, Rodolphus and Yaxley, Lysander." Harry handed over the slip and then they waited while the guard verified the signatures.
"Interrogation Room Twelve's free. I'll have Lestrange escorted there. Can only meet with 'em one at a time. Them's the rules." The guard summoned another guard.
Harry, Ron and Seamus walked through Azkaban until they reached the interrogation room. Chills raced up and down Seamus's spine as he walked through. The place was morbid and depressing enough now that he didn't want to think about what it would've been like to be imprisoned back when the Ministry used Dementors. Those things had starred in many a nightmare through Seamus's Hogwarts years and beyond. They were foul beasts and he was quite pleased that the Ministry had banished them to a remote preserve off in the mountains of Greenland.
Ron opened the door and the three slipped inside. It was a barren room, a depressing sombre grey that did nothing to brighten anyone's mood. Nerves trickled in as they waited and Seamus could barely resist pacing. He'd not been on official business since… he wracked his memory, unable to remember the last capture. It was either Carrow or Jugson. Or was it Selwynn? After he'd gotten Lestrange and Yaxley, they'd blurred as he'd collapsed mentally.
His hands shook as he fingered his wand. He could use a drink, something to steady his nerves. For a moment, he forgot that Dennis was missing and wondered if, perhaps, Dennis would want to meet him. Then he remembered and turned towards the other two in the room, "Either of you hear from Dennis lately?"
"No, can't say that I have," Ron said as he looked up from his contemplations of the cheap metal chairs.
"Tried to owl him after you asked me about him but nothing came back," Harry said as he paced across the back of the room.
"Parvati's worried over him. He's not returning any owls, not in any of his old haunts and his flat's empty." Seamus's hands turned sweaty on his wand as he heard movement outside the door.
"We'll see what we can find when we get back, let you know what's going on." The doors opened and they watched as Rodolphus Lestrange ambled in. Unlike the last time Seamus had seen him, he was particularly haggard looking. His eyes sunk deep into his skull and swum in a sea of bruised flesh. He was painfully skinny but there was still a semblance of pride as he stood straighter after entering.
"I've nothing further to share with any of you." He glared at them while they waited for the guard to leave.
"Close the door. We'll let you know when we're done," Harry ordered and the guard, after a respectful nod, left the room.
"Dean Thomas," Harry said and they waited for a response.
"Yes?" Rodolphus hobbled to one of the chairs. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"Tall, black, Auror. You were at the scene when he was taken." Ron rattled off details and Seamus swore he saw a spark of recognition flit across Lestrange's face.
"Was I? So many Mudbloods, so little time." At Lestrange's flippancy, red rage surged over Seamus and he was out of his chair before he knew it. Gripping Lestrange's prison uniform, he shook the man.
"You'll fucking well keep a respectful tone, y'ken?" Hands touched his shoulders but Seamus shrugged them off.
"You'll need to control your whelp." Lestrange directed his command towards the person behind Seamus.
"He's his own man. I'd recommend you answer the questions rather than continue to bait him."
Seamus pulled him closer and hissed, low and threatening, in his face, "You'll answer the questions or I shan't be held accountable for me actions. Everyone already knows I'm mental. Might as well get something out of it. Now, what the fuck did you do to Dean Thomas?"
Lestrange laughed, tossing his head back while the cruel mirthless sounds rang out and echoed in the room. Seamus shoved him backwards, toppling the chair. Before Lestrange had a moment to absorb his fall, Seamus sat on top of him and started hitting him, over and over, across the face and his ears. He stopped laughing as he was beaten and it was Seamus's turn to start laughing. "You fucking asshole, you've not a clue what you've done. Not a fucking clue at all! I'll fucking well kill you!"
"Seamus, let him go." Seamus barely heard Harry but he felt the hand on his shoulder and he only shrugged it off. "Let him go. We'll come back with Veritaserum. We'll get authorisation and we'll come back with it. Come on, he's not even awake anymore. This isn't going to help Dean."
The hand gripped his shoulder tighter and Seamus came back to himself and saw that Lestrange was bloody and unconscious. His hands hurt almost as much as his heart did. They throbbed with his pulse. Ron tapped the bruised knuckles with his wand and Seamus felt marginally better.
"Let's get out of here, the guards can clean him up," Ron said as he kicked Lestrange's arm as it lay limp. He then went to the door and yelled out, "Oi! We got a clean up in here!"
Ron entered just before the guard tottered in. With a smirk, the man flicked his wand and levitated Lestrange before taking him back towards his cell. No one said a word to any of them as they walked through the prison and then through the Floo.
"I'm really not cut out for this. I've probably just got all of us in trouble." Seamus hung his head. "Heaps of trouble."
"We'll talk to Shacklebolt, we'll work it out, come on." Harry waved his hand towards the lifts.
~~**~~
"It's a highly experimental procedure. It's been attempted one time previously," Healer Guérir launched into his explanation. "The results were highly promising. However, in that case, unlike yours, we knew exactly what caused the damage and we were able to repair it. Without a detailed knowledge of what happened to you, I'm not at all certain that this procedure would assist. In point of fact, I think that the procedure would hinder the possible recovery through other means."
Dean sat in the chair, stunned. He'd had high hopes, even if it were dangerous, that he'd get his memories back just from Parvati's belief in it. "So you're saying that I have to find out who did this to me and how before the procedure could work and even then, it might not work?"
"Exactly. I cannot guarantee details, but we," he gestured towards Parvati, "have high hopes that once we know what happened, we will be able to reverse it."
"What would you do?"
The man steepled his fingers under his chin as he started to explain. "We would use a container similar to a Pensieve, that is, a memory collector. All of your memories would be pulled out and the damaged bits would be repaired through case-specific spells. For example, on an Obliviate, the reversal can possibly be fairly straight forward. More complicated spells, however, require different spells. This could, possibly, take quite some time but hopefully, when your memories are restored to your mind, you would have all of them back and intact."
"You mean, you'd pull out all my memories and then put them back in? How would you do that?" Dean boggled at the mere idea.
"Oh, that's quite right, I'd forgotten that you were Muggle. Let me show you, come along," Healer Guérir said as he stood and then they all walked down the hallway to the room at the end where a Pensieve rested. It was a giant bowl made of stone and the liquid in it shimmered. Dean stopped in his tracks as he watched Healer Guérir put his wand to his head and pull out a silvery, almost translucent, string and then put it into the liquid. "Come and see, my boy. Come and see."
Dean leaned in and immediately, he was sucked in to the memory. In it, Dean sat on a chair within Parvati's office and tapped his hands on his knees. He could see the way that the room looked, saw the artwork and the rug underneath the desk. The oddest bit was watching himself jitter when he hadn't even been aware that he'd been moving. Parvati, Healer Guérir and himself got up and Dean walked along behind until they arrived in the room with the Pensieve. There, the memory ended and Dean was thrown back out.
"Do you see?" Healer Guérir tapped his wand on the liquid and then put the memory back into his mind.
"So this, err, Obliviate, it doesn't get rid of the memories? It just traps them so you can't pull them out?" Dean was completely stunned by the revelation. Just when he thought he'd got on to the magical world, something new happened to completely overwhelm him and prove just how wrong he'd been.
"In theory, you are correct though, when cast improperly, it destroys the memories instead. There is one case where a former professor at Hogwarts completely destroyed all of his memories when his spell backfired on him. Quite a fascinating case study, in all actuality. There are multiple memory spells, however, not just Obliviate. Mnemone Radford was brilliant at developing memory charms and was, in fact, the one who developed many of those that are currently in usage. Absolutely brilliant things, memories. Why, you can - "
"I'm quite sure that Dean doesn't need to hear about all of these other cases, Healer Guérir," Parvati interrupted as she held on to Dean's arm. She had to have sensed the way that he'd slowly been tensing up and worrying over the idea that whatever they'd done to him was permanent.
He'd accepted the permanency while he'd not known a thing about the magical world but now that he was here, he'd been expecting a miracle. That there wasn't one right away disappointed him. There were too many things he'd already discovered about himself that he wanted to know it all. What had he done as an Auror? What sort of cases? What had happened during the War that Seamus still wouldn't talk about it? Why did his mum hate magic so much that she and the family would keep what had happened to him such a secret? What did Seamus taste like and just how drunk had either of them been when they'd kissed the first time?
While he'd been thinking of all the things he wanted to remember, Healer Guérir and Parvati had started walking towards the door. Dean stared at the Pensieve, wondering if, perhaps, someone could pull a memory from his head and he'd know something of his past that he needed to know.
"Thank you, Healer, we'll be in touch about the procedure. The Aurors are looking into what happened to Dean so hopefully we'll have results soon." Parvati walked with the healer into the hallway and then came back, alone.
"I know I said that I'd rather you recover the memories on your own but I have one for you," Parvati held up a hand and then continued, "it's fairly small but I thought you might enjoy it."
The silvery strand pulled away from her head on the tip of her wand and then disappeared into the liquid. When they both leaned in together, Dean found himself sucked in to a large room with multi-coloured hammocks suspended from the ceiling. There were tapestries hanging all over the place while bookcases and brooms filled in the empty spaces. As they watched, Harry entered with Neville, Hermione and Ron. Everyone in the room ran to greet them while babbling excitedly. Dean could see Seamus - bruised and battered though he was, he was still recognisable to Dean - and then he watched as Luna entered the room, followed by Dean himself. Seamus, face joyous, yelled and then ran to embrace the Dean in the memory. They looked so happy, even then, that Dean wondered if perhaps they hadn't been quite as drunk as Seamus had said they were for that first kiss.
When Dean and Seamus joined the rest of the group, Seamus kept reaching out a hand, touching the back of Dean's hand, his arm, his waist, his hair. Dean touched almost as often, reaching out and squeezing Seamus's hand and arm before slinging an arm round Seamus's shoulders. They really had been just as tactile back then as he'd expected. Just as Seamus burst out, "You haven't got a wand"?, the memory ended and Dean was pulled back into the present.
"Thanks," Dean said before hugging Parvati. "Thanks for that."
"Of course, Dean." She held on to him as well, murmuring into his chest, "I just thought you'd like to know that you two really were close."
Dean didn't have any words in response so he nodded and squeezed before letting go. "Bout time I head back. Seamus has got used to my cooking, I think. Thought maybe it'd be nice to surprise him with something good."
"All right, we'll talk again, all right? In the meantime, don't lose hope. With Harry and Ron on the case, I'm sure they'll find out what happened to you."
"Yeah, sounds good."
~~**~~
Seams fidgeted as he stood in front of Shacklebolt, together with Harry and Ron. He'd confessed and now he waited for Shacklebolt to come down on him. The feel of Lestrange's flesh under his fists had felt so good though, that he wasn't at all sorry he'd acted the way he had. He was only sorry that his actions would reflect poorly on Harry and Ron.
"Can't be helped now. We'll send a Healer out. We should be able to get the authorisation to use Veritaserum on him. I'll start the requests and hopefully Finnigan's actions won't impede the request though there's little love lost for anyone in there," he said, obviously meaning Azkaban. "So I don't think it'll hurt. Dismissed."
Seamus walked out of the office, flanked by Harry and Ron.
"You got a couple of good ones in; bet they felt good," Ron remarked as they continued towards the lifts.
"Aye, they did but I'm sorry that it might've hurt finding out about Dean. That's the important part, not administering another beating. I could've killed him."
"You didn't back when you brought him in, doubt you'd do it now that Dean's back." Ron clapped Seamus on the back. "He was a ruddy mess, wasn't he?"
"That's nothing to celebrate," Harry chastised. "Going to head home for the evening. Ginny's waiting dinner on me. It's some bloody anniversary or another."
"Hermione said she'd have something waiting as well."
"Dean's got something, too, I'm sure." When the other two looked at him with astonished expressions, Seamus laughed. "He can cook. One of the new things about him and Christ but he can cook. Made a roast the other night that had the meat fell apart on the bloody fork. Absolutely brilliant at it."
"Yeah? So dinner at your place next time, yeah?" Ron clapped Seamus once more before heading in to his office. "See you tomorrow? Or you still going to push papers?"
"You want them tickets or not?" Seamus pulled a set out of his pocket. "Here, by the way. There's ten in there so it should be enough if you want anyone to join you."
"Harry?" Ron looked hopeful.
"Can't, Ginny's playing, remember?" Ron's expression changed to crestfallen.
"You and Dean want to join me?"
"Aye, we've nothing planned but let me run it past him first." Seamus turned towards the lifts. "I'll get back to you tomorrow on it."
They waved him off and he made his way back to his flat in silent contemplation. The rage that had swept over him had been so intense. He hadn't even realised that he'd been pounding on Lestrange until Harry's hand had touched his shoulder. The thought of it was disturbing and Seamus rubbed at his knuckles and the broken skin there as he walked up the stairs and into the flat.
When he opened the door, the smell of stew drifted out. He breathed in deep and then finished entering and shut the door. "Dean?"
"In the kitchen, where else would I be?" Dean called out and Seamus smiled.
"Glad of it, I am. Dinner smells just about divine. Anything I can do to help?" Seamus asked as he came around the corner and stopped dead at the sight of Dean in the kitchen with an apron on. The grin on his face coupled with the way that the apron clung to his hips made Seamus's mouth go dry.
"Nothing really. I'm using a recipe I found stuffed in your cupboard. I figured you wouldn't mind." Dean gestured towards the bubbling pot. Seamus ambled over to the cooker and sniffed.
"That's me mam's stew." Seamus grabbed the spoon and dipped it in before grabbing some and taking a taste. When Dean whacked him across the back of the head and then grabbed the spoon out of his hand, Seamus laughed. "You had to know I'd do it."
"Go on and get changed, I'll dish it up." Dean shoved him towards the doorway.
Seamus followed the instructions and as he changed, he yelled out towards the kitchen, "I take it your session with Parvati went well?"
"Yeah, that test, though, not really certain about. I'd rather talk without yelling," Dean shouted back.
"That you're subtle way of telling me to hurry up?" Seamus shouted once more before pulling on a pair of denims and then exited the room.
"Too right!" Dean started to shout and then caught himself as Seamus came around the corner. "About time."
"Fuck off," Seamus said as he tossed a rude gesture towards Dean. "I'll only forgive you for that because of the stew."
Dean tossed the same gesture back and then they sat down and started eating. Seamus barely bit back the moans as he ate. This tasted even better than when his mam had made it the last time. "You're a good cook."
"Course I am, got to be good at something."
"Decide about going back to work?" Seamus asked, gesturing with his fork.
"Lavender said that maybe I could get something with her instead. I think I'd like to stay around here instead of going back. Wasn't entirely happy there, anyway." Dean paused and then looked around the kitchen. "That is, if I can stay."
"How many times have I got to tell you that you're more than welcome to stay? You want to look for another flat, we can do that too." Seamus reached out a hand and gripped Dean's wrist. "Going to have to talk to your mum sometime, though."
Dean didn't say anything back so Seamus tried to turn it into a joke, "At least get something else to wear as you're pretty manky."
"Can't help it that you don't have any machines. Not like I can just wave my little stick and make things instantly clean," Dean taunted back.
"It's not little," Seamus leered as he said it.
Dean started to laugh and then Seamus laughed, as well. The previously rising turmoil disappeared. Seamus hated to ruin the moment but he pressed on. "Seriously, though, mate, you're going to have to talk to her eventually."
"In my own time. She didn't talk to me for all those years, I don't think asking for a few more weeks is too much." Dean stopped talking and stared down at his food.
"She did what she thought best. Your whole family did. If you can't talk to your mam, talk to your sisters or your da at the least. They deserve to know that you're still alive." Seamus surprised himself with the lack of bitterness towards Dean's mam.
"Farrah knows. That's enough. She can tell the rest." Dean stabbed at a piece of meat. "Conversation's over."
"It isn't, no," Seamus disagreed. "They love you."
"They lied to me! You'd think that'd piss you off, too! They hid all of this from me!" Dean pushed the bowl towards the centre of the table. "They hid you and our life, why aren't you pissed?"
"I am, Dean, fucking well am, but they're still your family. They helped make you who you are and they kept you safe. I can't blame them for something that I might consider, meself." Seamus reached out a hand and touched Dean's, turning it palm up and gripping around his wrist so their palms pressed together. "You have to forgive them for trying to keep you safe, just like you need to forgive me for letting you go and forgive yourself for going along with it."
Dean looked down to their hands and Seamus's gaze followed. The silence stretched on until Seamus wondered if he'd overstepped his bounds. Slowly, Dean pulled his hand from Seamus's and then walked out of the kitchen, down the hallway and then Seamus heard a door shut.
"Right, that went well. Way to fuck it up, Finnigan, way to fucking well fuck it up," Seamus cursed himself.
Chapter 11
Author: wook77
Pairing:: Dean/Seamus (other slash and het pairings contained within)
Rating: PG (Eventual rating: Hard R to NC-17)
100quills prompt: 29. Disease
Warnings: Canon compliant through DH. Pre-Epilogue. Additional Warnings at the beginning of Chapter 1.
Wordcount: Overall: ~70k This part: 4200
Summary: Four years ago, Dean Thomas died in the midst of a raid. Seamus saw it happen right in front of his eyes but seeing isn't believing and reality is in the eye of the beholder.
A/N: Many many thanks to nefernat and elanorofcastilefor the beta job. All remaining mistakes are my own.
All Chapters
Seamus paced outside of Harry and Ron's office. The owl had come while he was authorising the man-power to survey a possible area for the Quidditch World Cup. They'd need to work with the Muggle Liaison Office. They'd also need to see about enlarging the seating capacity in the stadium. If they were going to have the World Cup there, they'd need to possibly double the size and then there were the accommodations. He had no idea how they would fit everyone in the area surrounding the stadium, though there was that field and if they could get someone from… right, he was here to talk to Harry and Ron if they'd ever bloody well open their door.
He banged on the door once more and, of course, there was no answer. He didn't miss being an Auror. At first, righteous ire had fuelled him in a quest for justice as they'd hunted down Death Eaters but with all of them caught, dead or incapacitated, the work wasn't nearly as exciting as it had been. After spending so much time with Quidditch, he realized that being an Auror wasn't his destiny, regardless of whether Dean had lived or died.
Kingsley Shacklebolt turned the corner and grinned when he saw Seamus. "Coming back into our ranks, are you?"
When Shacklebolt held out his hand, Seamus shook it. "No, sir, can't say that I am. Just here to meet with Harry and Ron about something. You seen 'em?"
"They're out in the field. They told me about Thomas. Good to hear, though I'm curious if any of the other disappearances might be related to this. I've asked for the cooperation of the Obliviators. We'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry." Shacklebolt started walking and Seamus strode along beside him. "How's Thomas doing?"
"He's well enough. Can't remember much, but he seems to be coping with it all right." It wasn't a complete lie. "Working with Healer Patil and some French guy from St. Marie's."
"Good to hear. Bad time for the department, losing the two of you the way we did." They reached the lifts.
"Don't think I would've lasted anyway." Seamus pressed the button to go up while Shacklebolt pressed the one to go down.
"Perhaps it's a good thing things happened the way they did, then."
"Aye," Seamus said then went silent. There wasn't much else he could say in response. Thankfully, the lift arrived and when the door opened, Harry and Ron spilled out.
"News to report?" Shacklebolt asked.
"We'll need to clear a visit to Azkaban but we think so. We went back to the house where Dean fell but nothing new. We're going to talk to Lestrange, with your permission, of course," Harry said as they started walking back the way they came. "Seamus? Want to come along? Again, with permission, of course."
The idea was tempting, far too tempting. He wanted to, bad enough that he could taste it. The reports and requests for clearance could wait. Nodding, he smiled with far more teeth than necessary, "Course I do."
"You'd have to be an Auror and you just said you weren't made for it," Kingsley interrupted.
"Sir, with all due respect, I think this is just my sort of thing."
Shacklebolt held out a hand and shook Seamus's. "Welcome back. You three are cleared for Azkaban, let me just write up the authorisation for temporary reinstatement and a pass."
They followed down the hall to Shacklebolt's office and then watched as he signed the form with a flourish. The three nodded and then made their way through the Ministry to the Floo network connections. They had to have the Floo opened to get them to Azkaban but with Shacklebolt's form, they encountered no issues.
A guard greeted them on the other side, hand outstretched for the chit. "Who're you needing?"
"Lestrange, Rodolphus and Yaxley, Lysander." Harry handed over the slip and then they waited while the guard verified the signatures.
"Interrogation Room Twelve's free. I'll have Lestrange escorted there. Can only meet with 'em one at a time. Them's the rules." The guard summoned another guard.
Harry, Ron and Seamus walked through Azkaban until they reached the interrogation room. Chills raced up and down Seamus's spine as he walked through. The place was morbid and depressing enough now that he didn't want to think about what it would've been like to be imprisoned back when the Ministry used Dementors. Those things had starred in many a nightmare through Seamus's Hogwarts years and beyond. They were foul beasts and he was quite pleased that the Ministry had banished them to a remote preserve off in the mountains of Greenland.
Ron opened the door and the three slipped inside. It was a barren room, a depressing sombre grey that did nothing to brighten anyone's mood. Nerves trickled in as they waited and Seamus could barely resist pacing. He'd not been on official business since… he wracked his memory, unable to remember the last capture. It was either Carrow or Jugson. Or was it Selwynn? After he'd gotten Lestrange and Yaxley, they'd blurred as he'd collapsed mentally.
His hands shook as he fingered his wand. He could use a drink, something to steady his nerves. For a moment, he forgot that Dennis was missing and wondered if, perhaps, Dennis would want to meet him. Then he remembered and turned towards the other two in the room, "Either of you hear from Dennis lately?"
"No, can't say that I have," Ron said as he looked up from his contemplations of the cheap metal chairs.
"Tried to owl him after you asked me about him but nothing came back," Harry said as he paced across the back of the room.
"Parvati's worried over him. He's not returning any owls, not in any of his old haunts and his flat's empty." Seamus's hands turned sweaty on his wand as he heard movement outside the door.
"We'll see what we can find when we get back, let you know what's going on." The doors opened and they watched as Rodolphus Lestrange ambled in. Unlike the last time Seamus had seen him, he was particularly haggard looking. His eyes sunk deep into his skull and swum in a sea of bruised flesh. He was painfully skinny but there was still a semblance of pride as he stood straighter after entering.
"I've nothing further to share with any of you." He glared at them while they waited for the guard to leave.
"Close the door. We'll let you know when we're done," Harry ordered and the guard, after a respectful nod, left the room.
"Dean Thomas," Harry said and they waited for a response.
"Yes?" Rodolphus hobbled to one of the chairs. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"Tall, black, Auror. You were at the scene when he was taken." Ron rattled off details and Seamus swore he saw a spark of recognition flit across Lestrange's face.
"Was I? So many Mudbloods, so little time." At Lestrange's flippancy, red rage surged over Seamus and he was out of his chair before he knew it. Gripping Lestrange's prison uniform, he shook the man.
"You'll fucking well keep a respectful tone, y'ken?" Hands touched his shoulders but Seamus shrugged them off.
"You'll need to control your whelp." Lestrange directed his command towards the person behind Seamus.
"He's his own man. I'd recommend you answer the questions rather than continue to bait him."
Seamus pulled him closer and hissed, low and threatening, in his face, "You'll answer the questions or I shan't be held accountable for me actions. Everyone already knows I'm mental. Might as well get something out of it. Now, what the fuck did you do to Dean Thomas?"
Lestrange laughed, tossing his head back while the cruel mirthless sounds rang out and echoed in the room. Seamus shoved him backwards, toppling the chair. Before Lestrange had a moment to absorb his fall, Seamus sat on top of him and started hitting him, over and over, across the face and his ears. He stopped laughing as he was beaten and it was Seamus's turn to start laughing. "You fucking asshole, you've not a clue what you've done. Not a fucking clue at all! I'll fucking well kill you!"
"Seamus, let him go." Seamus barely heard Harry but he felt the hand on his shoulder and he only shrugged it off. "Let him go. We'll come back with Veritaserum. We'll get authorisation and we'll come back with it. Come on, he's not even awake anymore. This isn't going to help Dean."
The hand gripped his shoulder tighter and Seamus came back to himself and saw that Lestrange was bloody and unconscious. His hands hurt almost as much as his heart did. They throbbed with his pulse. Ron tapped the bruised knuckles with his wand and Seamus felt marginally better.
"Let's get out of here, the guards can clean him up," Ron said as he kicked Lestrange's arm as it lay limp. He then went to the door and yelled out, "Oi! We got a clean up in here!"
Ron entered just before the guard tottered in. With a smirk, the man flicked his wand and levitated Lestrange before taking him back towards his cell. No one said a word to any of them as they walked through the prison and then through the Floo.
"I'm really not cut out for this. I've probably just got all of us in trouble." Seamus hung his head. "Heaps of trouble."
"We'll talk to Shacklebolt, we'll work it out, come on." Harry waved his hand towards the lifts.
~~**~~
"It's a highly experimental procedure. It's been attempted one time previously," Healer Guérir launched into his explanation. "The results were highly promising. However, in that case, unlike yours, we knew exactly what caused the damage and we were able to repair it. Without a detailed knowledge of what happened to you, I'm not at all certain that this procedure would assist. In point of fact, I think that the procedure would hinder the possible recovery through other means."
Dean sat in the chair, stunned. He'd had high hopes, even if it were dangerous, that he'd get his memories back just from Parvati's belief in it. "So you're saying that I have to find out who did this to me and how before the procedure could work and even then, it might not work?"
"Exactly. I cannot guarantee details, but we," he gestured towards Parvati, "have high hopes that once we know what happened, we will be able to reverse it."
"What would you do?"
The man steepled his fingers under his chin as he started to explain. "We would use a container similar to a Pensieve, that is, a memory collector. All of your memories would be pulled out and the damaged bits would be repaired through case-specific spells. For example, on an Obliviate, the reversal can possibly be fairly straight forward. More complicated spells, however, require different spells. This could, possibly, take quite some time but hopefully, when your memories are restored to your mind, you would have all of them back and intact."
"You mean, you'd pull out all my memories and then put them back in? How would you do that?" Dean boggled at the mere idea.
"Oh, that's quite right, I'd forgotten that you were Muggle. Let me show you, come along," Healer Guérir said as he stood and then they all walked down the hallway to the room at the end where a Pensieve rested. It was a giant bowl made of stone and the liquid in it shimmered. Dean stopped in his tracks as he watched Healer Guérir put his wand to his head and pull out a silvery, almost translucent, string and then put it into the liquid. "Come and see, my boy. Come and see."
Dean leaned in and immediately, he was sucked in to the memory. In it, Dean sat on a chair within Parvati's office and tapped his hands on his knees. He could see the way that the room looked, saw the artwork and the rug underneath the desk. The oddest bit was watching himself jitter when he hadn't even been aware that he'd been moving. Parvati, Healer Guérir and himself got up and Dean walked along behind until they arrived in the room with the Pensieve. There, the memory ended and Dean was thrown back out.
"Do you see?" Healer Guérir tapped his wand on the liquid and then put the memory back into his mind.
"So this, err, Obliviate, it doesn't get rid of the memories? It just traps them so you can't pull them out?" Dean was completely stunned by the revelation. Just when he thought he'd got on to the magical world, something new happened to completely overwhelm him and prove just how wrong he'd been.
"In theory, you are correct though, when cast improperly, it destroys the memories instead. There is one case where a former professor at Hogwarts completely destroyed all of his memories when his spell backfired on him. Quite a fascinating case study, in all actuality. There are multiple memory spells, however, not just Obliviate. Mnemone Radford was brilliant at developing memory charms and was, in fact, the one who developed many of those that are currently in usage. Absolutely brilliant things, memories. Why, you can - "
"I'm quite sure that Dean doesn't need to hear about all of these other cases, Healer Guérir," Parvati interrupted as she held on to Dean's arm. She had to have sensed the way that he'd slowly been tensing up and worrying over the idea that whatever they'd done to him was permanent.
He'd accepted the permanency while he'd not known a thing about the magical world but now that he was here, he'd been expecting a miracle. That there wasn't one right away disappointed him. There were too many things he'd already discovered about himself that he wanted to know it all. What had he done as an Auror? What sort of cases? What had happened during the War that Seamus still wouldn't talk about it? Why did his mum hate magic so much that she and the family would keep what had happened to him such a secret? What did Seamus taste like and just how drunk had either of them been when they'd kissed the first time?
While he'd been thinking of all the things he wanted to remember, Healer Guérir and Parvati had started walking towards the door. Dean stared at the Pensieve, wondering if, perhaps, someone could pull a memory from his head and he'd know something of his past that he needed to know.
"Thank you, Healer, we'll be in touch about the procedure. The Aurors are looking into what happened to Dean so hopefully we'll have results soon." Parvati walked with the healer into the hallway and then came back, alone.
"I know I said that I'd rather you recover the memories on your own but I have one for you," Parvati held up a hand and then continued, "it's fairly small but I thought you might enjoy it."
The silvery strand pulled away from her head on the tip of her wand and then disappeared into the liquid. When they both leaned in together, Dean found himself sucked in to a large room with multi-coloured hammocks suspended from the ceiling. There were tapestries hanging all over the place while bookcases and brooms filled in the empty spaces. As they watched, Harry entered with Neville, Hermione and Ron. Everyone in the room ran to greet them while babbling excitedly. Dean could see Seamus - bruised and battered though he was, he was still recognisable to Dean - and then he watched as Luna entered the room, followed by Dean himself. Seamus, face joyous, yelled and then ran to embrace the Dean in the memory. They looked so happy, even then, that Dean wondered if perhaps they hadn't been quite as drunk as Seamus had said they were for that first kiss.
When Dean and Seamus joined the rest of the group, Seamus kept reaching out a hand, touching the back of Dean's hand, his arm, his waist, his hair. Dean touched almost as often, reaching out and squeezing Seamus's hand and arm before slinging an arm round Seamus's shoulders. They really had been just as tactile back then as he'd expected. Just as Seamus burst out, "You haven't got a wand"?, the memory ended and Dean was pulled back into the present.
"Thanks," Dean said before hugging Parvati. "Thanks for that."
"Of course, Dean." She held on to him as well, murmuring into his chest, "I just thought you'd like to know that you two really were close."
Dean didn't have any words in response so he nodded and squeezed before letting go. "Bout time I head back. Seamus has got used to my cooking, I think. Thought maybe it'd be nice to surprise him with something good."
"All right, we'll talk again, all right? In the meantime, don't lose hope. With Harry and Ron on the case, I'm sure they'll find out what happened to you."
"Yeah, sounds good."
~~**~~
Seams fidgeted as he stood in front of Shacklebolt, together with Harry and Ron. He'd confessed and now he waited for Shacklebolt to come down on him. The feel of Lestrange's flesh under his fists had felt so good though, that he wasn't at all sorry he'd acted the way he had. He was only sorry that his actions would reflect poorly on Harry and Ron.
"Can't be helped now. We'll send a Healer out. We should be able to get the authorisation to use Veritaserum on him. I'll start the requests and hopefully Finnigan's actions won't impede the request though there's little love lost for anyone in there," he said, obviously meaning Azkaban. "So I don't think it'll hurt. Dismissed."
Seamus walked out of the office, flanked by Harry and Ron.
"You got a couple of good ones in; bet they felt good," Ron remarked as they continued towards the lifts.
"Aye, they did but I'm sorry that it might've hurt finding out about Dean. That's the important part, not administering another beating. I could've killed him."
"You didn't back when you brought him in, doubt you'd do it now that Dean's back." Ron clapped Seamus on the back. "He was a ruddy mess, wasn't he?"
"That's nothing to celebrate," Harry chastised. "Going to head home for the evening. Ginny's waiting dinner on me. It's some bloody anniversary or another."
"Hermione said she'd have something waiting as well."
"Dean's got something, too, I'm sure." When the other two looked at him with astonished expressions, Seamus laughed. "He can cook. One of the new things about him and Christ but he can cook. Made a roast the other night that had the meat fell apart on the bloody fork. Absolutely brilliant at it."
"Yeah? So dinner at your place next time, yeah?" Ron clapped Seamus once more before heading in to his office. "See you tomorrow? Or you still going to push papers?"
"You want them tickets or not?" Seamus pulled a set out of his pocket. "Here, by the way. There's ten in there so it should be enough if you want anyone to join you."
"Harry?" Ron looked hopeful.
"Can't, Ginny's playing, remember?" Ron's expression changed to crestfallen.
"You and Dean want to join me?"
"Aye, we've nothing planned but let me run it past him first." Seamus turned towards the lifts. "I'll get back to you tomorrow on it."
They waved him off and he made his way back to his flat in silent contemplation. The rage that had swept over him had been so intense. He hadn't even realised that he'd been pounding on Lestrange until Harry's hand had touched his shoulder. The thought of it was disturbing and Seamus rubbed at his knuckles and the broken skin there as he walked up the stairs and into the flat.
When he opened the door, the smell of stew drifted out. He breathed in deep and then finished entering and shut the door. "Dean?"
"In the kitchen, where else would I be?" Dean called out and Seamus smiled.
"Glad of it, I am. Dinner smells just about divine. Anything I can do to help?" Seamus asked as he came around the corner and stopped dead at the sight of Dean in the kitchen with an apron on. The grin on his face coupled with the way that the apron clung to his hips made Seamus's mouth go dry.
"Nothing really. I'm using a recipe I found stuffed in your cupboard. I figured you wouldn't mind." Dean gestured towards the bubbling pot. Seamus ambled over to the cooker and sniffed.
"That's me mam's stew." Seamus grabbed the spoon and dipped it in before grabbing some and taking a taste. When Dean whacked him across the back of the head and then grabbed the spoon out of his hand, Seamus laughed. "You had to know I'd do it."
"Go on and get changed, I'll dish it up." Dean shoved him towards the doorway.
Seamus followed the instructions and as he changed, he yelled out towards the kitchen, "I take it your session with Parvati went well?"
"Yeah, that test, though, not really certain about. I'd rather talk without yelling," Dean shouted back.
"That you're subtle way of telling me to hurry up?" Seamus shouted once more before pulling on a pair of denims and then exited the room.
"Too right!" Dean started to shout and then caught himself as Seamus came around the corner. "About time."
"Fuck off," Seamus said as he tossed a rude gesture towards Dean. "I'll only forgive you for that because of the stew."
Dean tossed the same gesture back and then they sat down and started eating. Seamus barely bit back the moans as he ate. This tasted even better than when his mam had made it the last time. "You're a good cook."
"Course I am, got to be good at something."
"Decide about going back to work?" Seamus asked, gesturing with his fork.
"Lavender said that maybe I could get something with her instead. I think I'd like to stay around here instead of going back. Wasn't entirely happy there, anyway." Dean paused and then looked around the kitchen. "That is, if I can stay."
"How many times have I got to tell you that you're more than welcome to stay? You want to look for another flat, we can do that too." Seamus reached out a hand and gripped Dean's wrist. "Going to have to talk to your mum sometime, though."
Dean didn't say anything back so Seamus tried to turn it into a joke, "At least get something else to wear as you're pretty manky."
"Can't help it that you don't have any machines. Not like I can just wave my little stick and make things instantly clean," Dean taunted back.
"It's not little," Seamus leered as he said it.
Dean started to laugh and then Seamus laughed, as well. The previously rising turmoil disappeared. Seamus hated to ruin the moment but he pressed on. "Seriously, though, mate, you're going to have to talk to her eventually."
"In my own time. She didn't talk to me for all those years, I don't think asking for a few more weeks is too much." Dean stopped talking and stared down at his food.
"She did what she thought best. Your whole family did. If you can't talk to your mam, talk to your sisters or your da at the least. They deserve to know that you're still alive." Seamus surprised himself with the lack of bitterness towards Dean's mam.
"Farrah knows. That's enough. She can tell the rest." Dean stabbed at a piece of meat. "Conversation's over."
"It isn't, no," Seamus disagreed. "They love you."
"They lied to me! You'd think that'd piss you off, too! They hid all of this from me!" Dean pushed the bowl towards the centre of the table. "They hid you and our life, why aren't you pissed?"
"I am, Dean, fucking well am, but they're still your family. They helped make you who you are and they kept you safe. I can't blame them for something that I might consider, meself." Seamus reached out a hand and touched Dean's, turning it palm up and gripping around his wrist so their palms pressed together. "You have to forgive them for trying to keep you safe, just like you need to forgive me for letting you go and forgive yourself for going along with it."
Dean looked down to their hands and Seamus's gaze followed. The silence stretched on until Seamus wondered if he'd overstepped his bounds. Slowly, Dean pulled his hand from Seamus's and then walked out of the kitchen, down the hallway and then Seamus heard a door shut.
"Right, that went well. Way to fuck it up, Finnigan, way to fucking well fuck it up," Seamus cursed himself.
Chapter 11